Oath of Honor Read online

  • 103 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Wes closed the FAT kit. “All set.” She hefted it, winced, and

  shifted it to her other hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing. Jammed my shoulder a bit. It’s noth—”

  Evyn climbed into the rig and pointed to the narrow stretcher

  against the wall. “Sit.”

  “I’m fine.” Wes laughed. “I’m the doctor, remem—”

  “And I’m team leader. Sit.”

  Wes shut it and sat. No point getting into a pissing contest over

  who was in charge just yet. She kept quiet as Evyn helped her ease her

  jacket off and unclipped her radio.

  “Can you unbutton your shirt?” Evyn asked, her gaze fixed

  somewhere past Wes’s left shoulder.

  “Sure.” Wes loosened the top half of her shirt one-handed and

  tugged it free from her pants. She wore a tight silk tank beneath it and

  was suddenly aware of her nipples tightening. Great. “It’s a bit cold in

  here—can we do this fast?”

  “Where does it hurt?” Evyn ordered herself not to look down. The

  aisle was narrow, and she was practically kneeling between Wes’s legs.

  If she leaned forward another inch their breasts would touch.

  “Left shoulder joint. It’s just stiff—nothing—”

  “We’re going to do this, so you can just suck it up,” Evyn said.

  “Fine.”

  Ever so carefully, Evyn drew the collar of Wes’s shirt aside with

  two fingers, careful not to touch skin, until she could see her shoulder.

  “Big bruise.”

  “Feels like it.”

  Evyn rocked back on her heels as far as space would allow. “I’m

  going to range it. Tell me if it hurts.”

  “Go ahead.” Wes watched Evyn’s face while Evyn gently cupped

  her elbow and manipulated her shoulder. Evyn’s eyes were storm-cloud

  blue, but her touch was sure and steady. A streak of dirt over her cheek

  made her look unexpectedly vulnerable, and Wes brushed it away

  before she had time to stop herself. Evyn flinched and Wes dropped her

  hand. “Shoulder’s okay. Sore, but no worse than at rest.”

  “You’ll need to ice it,” Evyn said.

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Evyn looked away. “You’re welcome.”

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  “That was a pretty impressive sim.”

  “You didn’t seem too bothered by it.” Evyn pushed to her feet and

  moved back to give Wes room to dress. She resisted the urge to ask her

  if she needed help. She didn’t want to touch her again. Not at all.

  Wes looked up at her. “Did you expect me to be?”

  “Well, seeing as how you’re a paper pusher and all.” Evyn grinned,

  realized she was falling into the habit of bantering with Wes, and skidded

  away from the friendly exchange. Relaxing her guard around Wes was

  just too easy, and she couldn’t afford to get familiar with her. Even if

  she wasn’t supposed to be training her, there was the little matter of

  Wes probably being on Lucinda Washburn’s private security payroll

  just now. Hell, for all she knew, Wes was evaluating her. And didn’t

  that just throw cold water on her libido. “I’ll meet you at the cars. We’re

  done for today.”

  v

  They didn’t speak on the trip back to the House, and Evyn

  disappeared as soon as they disembarked. Wes couldn’t figure out what

  had put that cold distance in Evyn’s eyes after the warmth that had been

  there just minutes before, and the more she thought about it, the more

  frustrated she became. She shouldn’t care—didn’t want to care. Since

  the idea of sitting around her hotel room until the next day waiting for

  her next exercise held no appeal, she went back to her office and spent

  the rest of the afternoon setting up a schedule to review various protocols

  with the team members. When she’d gotten everything organized to her

  satisfaction, she turned to the last detail on her list and made a call.

  “This is Captain Masters,” she said when a young man answered.

  “Is Ms. Washburn available?”

  “One moment, Captain,” he said pleasantly and put her on hold.

  Lucinda answered. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

  “I wanted to follow up on my request to schedule the president for

  a baseline physical examination.”

  “Yes, I have that on my list. Can you hold for a moment?”

  “Of course.”

  A minute passed, and Lucinda returned. “Are you free right

  now?”“Certainly.”

  • 105 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “Five minutes in the clinic?” Lucinda said.

  “I’ll be waiting.” Wes hurried to the clinic and commandeered

  the PA, a man she knew by name but hadn’t formally met yet, to assist.

  “Hernandez, you’ve got the duty. Set up a room for a complete physical,

  will you? The president is on his way.”

  Hernandez, a navy corpsman, snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am.

  And welcome aboard, ma’am.”

  “Thanks.”

  Three minutes later, the president arrived, followed by a military

  aide carrying nuclear codes in a secure briefcase. Wes saluted.

  “Thank you for interrupting your schedule, sir.”

  The president returned her salute and extended his hand. “Good to

  meet you, Doctor.”

  She indicated an exam room. “Right in here, sir. This shouldn’t

  take very long.”

  The military aide took a post just outside the door, his expression

  neutral. Hernandez had laid out equipment on the counter next to the

  exam table and had draped an ironed white gown on the end of the

  chair. He stood at attention to the left of the door.

  “I’ll leave you to change,” Wes said and stepped out to wait until

  Hernandez signaled the president was ready. Two minutes later he called

  her in, and she quickly worked her way through the exam, checking

  vital signs, listening to heart and lungs, testing reflexes. Everything was

  fine, which she had anticipated.

  “All set, sir,” she said when she’d finished. She stepped out while

  Hernandez assisted the president, and returned when Hernandez called

  her. “What’s your verdict, Doctor?” the president asked as he knotted

  his tie.“We’ll want routine bloods again in four months and an EKG in

  six. But you’re cleared for duty.”

  Andrew Powell smiled. “Glad to hear it. How are you finding the

  post so far?”

  “I’m honored, sir.”

  “I promise it’s not always this quiet.”

  She laughed. “In medicine, sir, quiet is not bad.”

  “True about my job too. What are you doing for the holidays?”

  “I have the duty, sir.”

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  The president opened the exam-room door and paused. “Well, be

  sure and make the staff Christmas party.”

  “I will. Thank you, sir.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. Happy holidays, sir.”

  “Happy holidays, Captain Masters.”

  Wes stayed in the hall until he disappeared. Today she’d been part

  of a simulated rocket attack
aimed at destroying this man and what he

  symbolized to the nation and the world. The idea that someone close

  to him might be a traitor made the urgency of her job even more acute.

  She understood—at least rationally—a little bit better why Evyn didn’t

  yet trust her, and as much as she resisted the idea, she couldn’t totally

  trust Evyn either.

  • 107 •

  RADCLY fFE

  chapter fOurteen

  Evyn woke with Ricochet draped on her left ear. “Get off.”

  Ricochet stretched, shifted, and settled around her forehead

  like a fur hat. His belly reminded her of feathers dancing on her skin.

  Feathers. Fingertips. Wes’s thumb tracing over her cheek. A shot of

  adrenaline spiking her pulse, her clit instantly hard. Her eyes jolted

  open. “Hell.”

  She stared at the ceiling. Flat gray light. The weatherman had said

  more snow was coming. More freezing cold. She wasn’t cold now. She

  kicked the covers off. Ricochet complained and stalked haughtily to

  the bottom of the bed. Evyn touched her cheek and her clit did that

  twitching thing it had done yesterday when Wes had touched her. Wes

  made her so freaking hot—didn’t mean a thing, though. Just good old

  reflexes. Never mind the way Wes had looked at her when she’d been

  moving her shoulder around—so serious, so right there. Wes looked at

  her—looked into her, and okay, that freaked her out too. She’d grown

  up in a houseful of men she wanted to be just like—tough, competitive

  men who taught her to win. And any fear or uncertainty—and, God

  forbid, tears—that cropped up along the way, she hid. And eventually

  she didn’t need to hide those things because she didn’t feel them any

  longer.

  Except when Wes touched her, she felt the doors opening and light

  leaking into the closed rooms where she kept her secrets. Not good.

  Didn’t matter, though. She had a handle on it. She slid her hand down

  her belly. Had a hand on it too. She was hard all right, and wet, and

  damn if she couldn’t get Wes’s scent out of her head. So she closed

  her eyes and let the green of Wes’s gaze and the piercing winter-bright

  scent of her fill her mind as she came.

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  v

  “Morning,” Wes said when she found Evyn in the ready room at

  0730. A box, empty save for a lone white powdered doughnut, sat in

  the middle of the round table. Evyn was dressed for fieldwork again—

  khakis and a blue polo shirt with the USSS logo on the chest.

  “Hi,” Evyn said, rising abruptly and dumping the remains of her

  coffee in the sink. “Ready?”

  “Another sim? Sure.”

  “Nope. Today we go live.” Evyn raised her left wrist and said,

  “Team One, ready to move out.”

  Wes followed her out into the hall, waiting for Evyn to fill her

  in on what was happening. They’d reached the south exit before she

  finally asked, “Isn’t it customary to brief me?”

  “There is no customary.” Evyn reached the door first and held

  it open. “The only thing you can count on in this detail is that plans

  always change. Today’s already have.”

  “Am I the only medic?”

  “You’ll have the usual backup in the follow car.”

  Wes caught the door and followed Evyn outside. A limo idled with

  the three black SUVs on the circular drive. Gary waited by the open

  rear door of the first vehicle, sunglasses on, earbud just visible behind

  his left ear. He nodded briefly to Evyn, and Wes thought she saw his

  eyebrow quirk before his stony expression returned. Several other men

  and a woman stood waiting by the other vehicles, and the profiles of

  additional agents were visible inside each one. She hadn’t expected

  so many people to be involved in a training scenario but said nothing.

  Evyn obviously wasn’t planning to answer any of her questions.

  “We’ll be in the first follow car,” Evyn said. “Eagle is on his

  way.”Wes hesitated. “I thought this was a training scenario.”

  Evyn met her gaze, no trace of humor in her eyes. “Did I give you

  that impression? This is as real as it gets.”

  Wes adjusted her expectations and reassessed the situation. “Then

  shouldn’t I ride with the president?”

  Evyn opened the rear door of the SUV directly behind the limo and

  gestured for Wes to climb in. “Under most circumstances, no. You’re

  • 109 •

  RADCLY fFE

  part of the secure package now—we need you out of the kill zone. You

  can’t treat Eagle if you’re dead.”

  “Makes sense,” Wes muttered. She accepted the reasoning behind

  safeguarding the first responder, but in light of the sim the day before,

  she didn’t like it. If the vehicles were separated or the president’s

  vehicle took a direct hit, she wanted to be closer than she would be in

  a follow car.

  Evyn must have read her displeasure, because she said, “If a threat

  arises, we’ll do our jobs and you’ll stay out of the way until needed.”

  “I know the protocol, Agent Daniels.”

  “Then we’re all happy.” Evyn pulled out her handheld and started

  flicking through screens. Conversation over.

  Wes settled onto the black leather bench seat and watched out

  the window as a group emerged from the White House. She caught a

  fleeting glimpse of President Powell, flanked by four agents, striding

  briskly toward the limo. Seconds later, they pulled away and exited

  the South Grounds onto E Street. The streets had been plowed and

  snowbanks lined the curbs. Somewhere in front of them, motorcycle

  engines rumbled, probably a police escort clearing the way. Across

  from her, Evyn texted.

  Wes wondered what would happen next, and when. The thrum of

  anxiety in her belly was probably something she was going to live with

  indefinitely. Every trip the president took outside the White House was

  akin to a military engagement. Danger was always imminent. Stress

  and uncertainty didn’t bother her, as long as she knew she was prepared.

  And she planned to be.

  Forty minutes later, the motorcade pulled off the highway onto

  a wide drive and stopped in front of a row of large stone buildings.

  Car doors slammed, and Wes saw the group from the first car moving

  inside. Evyn opened the door and said, “You’ll stay here with one of the

  military aides. If you’re needed, he’ll inform you. I hope you brought

  something to read.”

  “It never occurred to me I’d need it.”

  Evyn laughed. “Oh, you’ll have plenty of time to kill on this

  assignment. I recommend an e-reader. Travels easily and holds up

  well.”“I’ll make a note of that.”

  Evyn closed the door and disappeared inside along with several

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  other agents. Wes settled back to wait, watching out the window. No foot

  traffic. An occasional car passed along the drive. She wasn’t sure where

  they were. The uncertainty heightened all her senses. Her pulse was a

  little faster than usual, and tension in the back of her
neck indicated her

  blood pressure was probably slightly higher than normal too—nothing

  to worry about as long as the tension didn’t escalate into anxiety, which

  blunted response time. A certain degree of stress augmented essential

  reflexes. She felt on edge but sharp. The way she needed to be.

  An hour passed before the main doors of the building opened and

  Evyn walked out, followed by the president and a phalanx of agents.

  A blur of motion cut across Wes’s field of vision, shouts erupted, the

  loud crack of gunfire shattered the quiet. Evyn crumpled, the president

  staggered, and Wes grabbed her FAT kit and bolted from the SUV

  along with a sea of agents from the other cars. Agents converged on the

  president, others swarmed a young man holding a pistol and dragged

  him to the ground. Wes raced up the sidewalk, scanning the injured,

  automatically triaging. Only those who would die without immediate

  attention could be treated. Those who would die despite emergency

  care and those who would survive without it were passed over.

  Evyn lay on her back, eyes closed, the collar of her shirt soaked

  in blood. Neck or chest wound—likely fatal without urgent treatment.

  Another agent, a man she didn’t recognize, curled on his side, clutching

  his abdomen. A second potential fatality. The agents with the president

  pushed past her toward the vehicle she’d just vacated. The president

  seemed to be moving under his own power—injury status unknown.

  Without medical treatment, Evyn and the other agent would likely die.

  Wes stared at Evyn—she was still breathing, but for how long?

  Ignoring her instincts, ignoring all her training, she ran for the SUV

  with the president inside and jumped into the back. The doors slammed

  shut, tires screeched, and they jolted forward. The president was supine

  on the rear seat, and the duty nurse already had an oxygen mask on his

  face. Bracing one arm against the side of the speeding vehicle, Wes

  dragged the FAT kit closer. “Status?”

  “GSW to the leg,” Thompson, the nurse, replied.

  “You,” Wes said to the closest agent, pulling gauze from the field

  trauma kit, “hold this over the wound, press hard.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  • 111 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “Get us to the nearest trauma center.” She didn’t wait for an

  answer. After grabbing a stethoscope, she pushed closer and slid a hand