Radclyffe - Price of Honor

“I saw a special on television about the K9 division. As soon as I saw the dogs, I knew that’s what I wanted to do.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“And you never considered anything else?”

“Never.”

“No regrets?”

“How could there be? I’ve got the best dog in the world, and the best job.”

Viv laughed. “They knew what they were doing when they picked you for the interview.”

“Maybe. But I think I’m the one that got lucky.”

Viv drew a quick breath. “Now who’s flirting?”

Dusty smiled, pleased. “I guess that would be me.”

“I guess it’s my turn to tell you something else,” Viv said.

“No.” Dusty leaned back as the waitress placed the sushi boat on the table. “That was free.”

“Rain check, then?”

“Yes.” Dusty brushed her fingers down Viv’s arm. “We’re leaving at midnight so the dogs can clear the landing site. I don’t know when—”

“I’ll be covering the breakfast speech. After?”

“Yes,” Dusty said instantly. “I’ll look for you.”

“I’ll look for you too.”

*

Jane stretched out on the single bed in the Motel 6, her fifth cheap, nondescript room in as many days, and turned on the local news. The story about the camp was winding down, with only a twenty-second spot that added nothing to what she already knew. Of course, none of the news was accurate, but at least she knew the intense law-enforcement presence would be dying down.

Her father had taught her how to hide in plain sight, and no one gave her a second look when she walked to the diner down the road or stopped at a nearby gas station to fill her Jeep and the extra gas cans she kept in the back. Her father had planned well in case they’d need to disappear, and after she’d hiked down the mountain carrying her weapons and the money, she’d collected the vehicle and the IDs from the cache he’d left behind. She had his IDs with her, even though he wouldn’t need them. She had ones for Robbie and Jennifer too, and when the time came for them to disappear again, she’d take care of it. It wouldn’t be long now.

When the news ended, she called Robbie.

“Everything all right?” he said instantly.

“Yes. With you?”

“No change. We’re set to leave here at four tomorrow, arriving in Chicago around six thirty. He’s got a breakfast conference downtown and then a big ceremony to launch the train.”

“You have the route?”

“Yes. I’ll scan it and send it to your phone.”

“I’ll be heading out in the morning,” Jane said. “Just one matter of business to finish up here.”

“Don’t take any chances. I don’t want to lose you too.”

“You won’t lose anyone, I promise.”

“I know, I know.”

His anxiety was palpable. He wasn’t a warrior, not like her and Jennifer. He’d always been the one who’d rather stay inside with a book than crawl through the obstacle course her father set up in the woods behind the house, carrying a .22 and shooting at human-shaped targets. He could handle a weapon adequately, but he’d been the obvious choice to infiltrate the communications network. His natural talent for journalism had been a bonus. She trusted him, but he’d never been in the midst of an action before.

“I’ll text twice a day, twelve-hour intervals. Don’t worry,” Jane said. “You’ll do fine.”

“You’ve always been most like him, you know.” Robbie sounded both wistful and apologetic.

Jane blinked at the unexpected moisture blurring her vision for an instant. “Then trust me. We’ll all be fine.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not. Keep me updated on any changes in the itinerary.”

“See you soon,” Robbie said.

Jane disconnected and two minutes later the phone buzzed. An instant message appeared with a map showing a blue line connecting Chicago to Flagstaff. Red dots along the way denoted towns where the president would stop. She calculated three days driving eighteen hours a day, and she’d intercept at just the right place. All she needed now was the right weapon.

Chapter Eight

Blair said good-bye to her father at the elevator to the second floor of the residence and walked out the west entrance toward the street to catch a cab.

“Blair!” Cam caught up with her on the sidewalk. “Want some company?”

“Your kind.” Blair kissed Cam quickly on the cheek, slipped her arm through Cam’s, and snuggled close, looking for warmth in the biting wind but mostly just wanting the pleasure of her hard body up close. “Is this a happy accident?”

“Ah…not exactly.”

“Stark called you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I suppose Dad is in trouble now too?”

Cam laughed. “You do know it stresses the shift when Eagle goes off the record, right? And both of you…”

Blair chuckled. “It was only a burger.”

“Right. A burger that required a motorcade, half a dozen agents tear-assing across town to clear the place before he got there, press corps piling into SUVs and creating havoc in the streets, and probably a dozen more gray hairs on Tom Turner’s head.”

“Tom doesn’t have any gray.”

“He will if you keep encouraging your father to go AWOL.”

“You know he loves it.”

“I know,” Cam said. “Just promise you won’t do a burger run when we’re out on the campaign trail.”

“You always said that impromptu public appearances are the safest because no one expects him. It’s not like anyone was waiting at Five Guys for the president to walk in.”

“That’s true, but you can never be sure that somebody who just happens to be there won’t take it upon themselves to make a move. The only way to be safe is to predict and plan for—”

“Any contingency.” Blair sighed. “I know. I know you’re right. But I know what it’s like to be caged in. And it’s got to be a lot worse for him.”

“His choice,” Cam pointed out, not unkindly. “And it’s not about just him. It’s about the office and the—”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Cam slid her arm around Blair’s waist and pulled her under her arm. “I know it wasn’t your doing. Besides, Andrew knows better. But it would be good sometimes if you could talk him out of it. He’s too much of a public president as it is.”

“It’s important to him, to his image. And it’s really important now. I hate to say it, but I agree with Adam. Part of Dad’s problem has always been his background. He’s an intellectual, he comes from money, he’s seen as part of the elite. He’s not like that at all, but he has to work to appeal to a certain spectrum of the population. A big spectrum.”

“Agreed. But nothing is worth risking his safety.” Cam kissed Blair’s temple. “Or yours.”

“All right. I’ll be the grown-up this trip.”

“Thank you. And I know Tom won’t say anything, but he’ll secretly thank you too.”

“Are you done for the night, then?”

“Yes. Wheels up at five. We’ll have to leave for Andrews around four.”

“Did you eat?”

“A sandwich in the canteen.”

“Cam, that’s not food. What about takeout?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“Guilty. Two burgers and fries.”

“I think I might hate you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Really?” Cam stepped off the curb and flagged a cab. As it careened across the lane of traffic toward them she stepped back onto the curb, putting herself between Blair and the road. “How?”

“I’ll leave that for you to think about.”

Cam opened the cab door as two black SUVs pulled into line behind the cab. She couldn’t see through the smoked glass but she knew the position of the occupants. Stark rode on the passenger side. Mac Phillips drove. The shift was in the follow car. She’d been aware of them following her and Blair as they’d walked from the White House. Giving in to Blair’s need for a little bit of freedom had meant putting up with cab rides. The shifts didn’t like it, but they liked Blair evading them even less. This way at least they knew where she was, and cabs were another unlikely source of problems. When Stark had called her to tell her Blair insisted on walking partway and catching a cab, Cam had waited for her at the White House so she could walk with her. Stark felt better about that. So did she.