Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

“But that is the point, isn’t it, Dr. Masters?” Evyn stood, zipped her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. “You aren’t just any doctor anymore, you are the First Doctor. Your training isn’t going to prepare you for what you need to do, because you are not going to deal with mass casualties as long as you are the First Doctor. You’re going to deal with one patient. No matter what else happens, you only have one patient.”

Wes swallowed back a snarl. Cool reason was the only way to get through a head as hard as Evyn’s. “Let’s just say, theoretically, that my primary patient sustains a superficial wound to the shoulder. He could easily be transported safely to a level one trauma center and receive simple field care en route. All of you are trained in CPR and emergency medical management, right?”

Evyn nodded. “That’s true. But what happens if on the way, he develops a drug reaction, or a second wound is discovered, a more serious one. That happened with Reagan after Hinckley’s assassination attempt. What if he crashes and you aren’t there?”

“You’d rather I let one of you die despite how unlikely the worst-case scenario is?”

“Bingo.” Evyn pointed a finger at her. “That’s it in a nutshell. We have to assume the worst-case scenario every time and act accordingly. And if you don’t believe that, then you don’t belong in your job.”

“I guess you’re going to decide that, aren’t you?”

“Not all by myself,” Evyn said, her voice losing its faintly teasing edge. “You admitted yourself, you’re an academic—and it isn’t a classroom out there.”

“That’s what this is really all about.” Wes took a slow breath. “You don’t think I should have this job, do you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Peter Chang would be your choice.”

Evyn colored. “Not my call. That doesn’t figure in the equation and never did.”

“If the medical team feels the same way, it’s a problem. I can’t allow such a vital unit to be destabilized due to politics and personal loyalties.”

“Look, those people are all military. They’ll follow orders.” Evyn sighed. “We’re on the same side here, Wes. I just need to know you have a clear idea of what the game looks like before you get to play.”

“Fair enough.” Wes couldn’t argue against being prepared. Evyn held all the cards, and for the most part, she agreed with Evyn’s call. “What’s in store for the next inning?”

Evyn just smiled and shook her head.

*

Evyn shrugged into her windbreaker, grabbed her go bag, and headed out. She thought about stopping by Wes’s office but vetoed the idea immediately. Her job was to see Wes got a crash course in the way PPD operated, and she wasn’t about to apologize for the way she did it. If Wes was pissed about the way the sim had gone down—well, she’d just have to stay pissed. Not like they had to be best friends or anything.

“Evyn!”

Evyn spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. Speaking of friends. “Hey, Pete! You’re back!”

“Yep.” Pete wore a bulky down parka, and his straight black hair was covered by a dark watch cap. He pulled off his cap and ran slender fingers through his hair. “I picked a good time to take a few days’ leave.”

“Yeah—you missed the worst of the storm. You working tonight?”

He nodded. “Anything happening?”

“No, it’s been quiet. Emily is shift leader tonight. She’ll fill you in, but he’s not scheduled for anything.”

“Good. I could use a little time to catch up on paperwork.” He looked around and moved closer. “How’s the new chief settling in?”

Evyn thought about Wes leaning against the lockers while she dressed, and the way Wes’s gaze occasionally glided over her body. She liked the direct way Wes had looked at her, as if she’d appreciated what she saw and wasn’t going to hide the fact. There’d been nothing flirtatious or suggestive in Wes’s behavior, but Wes had noticed her, and remembering the flicker of heat in Wes’s eyes made Evyn’s nipples harden. Glad to be wearing a coat, she said casually, “A little soon to tell. She’s got the creds for the job.”

“I know,” Pete said. “I met her briefly at the wedding. She seems nice enough.”

Nice. That wasn’t exactly the word she would use to describe Wes Masters. Intense, focused, honest, uncompromising. She supposed those things made Wes nice, but they also made her incredibly attractive. And if that wasn’t enough, she was gorgeous. The morning’s fantasy popped back into her head. Okay—kill that picture right now. “How do you feel about her getting the job?”

Pete shrugged. “I don’t mind not having to deal with the politics.”

“That’s very political of you.” Evyn nudged his shoulder with hers.

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just see how it works out.”

“Yeah. I guess we will.” Evyn waved good-bye and pushed out into the flat gray afternoon. As much as she liked Pete, she didn’t want to see Wes fail. Right now, what she really wanted was to see Wes again. When she was around her, she felt electrified. All of her senses were so charged, she thought she might start humming. She hadn’t been this keyed up during the night she’d spent with Louise. That had her worried. Whatever the strange effect Wes had on her, it was something she’d never experienced before. Reason enough to keep a safe distance. Fantasies, though, were harmless.

Chapter Fifteen

Lucinda dropped her pen on her desk as the door from the Oval Office opened and Andrew walked in, a little after eight a.m.

She stood. “Mr. President. I—”

Andrew closed the door. “I’m alone, Luce. Don’t get up.”

Lucinda came around the front of her desk and gestured to the chairs on her way to the coffee credenza. “I thought you were in a budget meeting.”

“I was, but we’re not going to move on anything at this point. Richard wants to wait until after the Iowa caucuses. He thinks we may have more support than the numbers are showing right now.”

“Well, Richard is the campaign manager and he knows numbers,” Lucinda said, pouring them each a cup of coffee. She handed one to Andrew. “I think as soon as Russo starts showing his true colors, we’ll see a huge swing from the independents in our direction.”

“That would be the best-case scenario,” Andrew said, accepting the cup as he leaned back in the chair, balancing the saucer on his knee. “Blair called this morning.”

“Ah,” Lucinda said, sitting beside him. “I briefed Cameron on the situation.”

“Mmm, I gathered. Blair was a bit peeved she hadn’t been read in.”

Lucinda smiled and sipped the coffee. “Just a little bit peeved? She is mellowing.”

Andrew laughed. “I don’t think I’d use that word, but she’s beginning to accept some of the politics.”

“Do you think that’s age, or is she just bowing to the inevitable?”

“Blair?” Andrew smiled, his voice warming. “You’ve known her all her life. Do you think she’ll ever bow to anything?”

Lucinda pictured the wild teenager, and the angry young woman of just a few years ago, and the incredible, strong, focused adult Blair had become. “No, she will always take things by the throat. It’s one of the things I love about her.”

“Me too,” Andrew said softly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Lucinda set her coffee cup on the edge of her desk and turned to face him fully. He was still as handsome as he had been when she’d joined him during his race for the governor’s mansion almost two decades before. Clear-eyed and strong, with an inner kindness that had not been blunted by politics. “What’s worrying you?”