Oath of Honor Read online

  behind the president’s back to check for any wounds she couldn’t see.

  Nothing else. The leg wound was the only injury, but in that area, if he

  didn’t bleed out, he could lose his leg. She found an intravenous pack

  in the kit and tossed it to another agent. “Hold this up.”

  “Got it.”

  She quickly connected intravenous tubing to the bag, opened the

  line and let the fluid run down, and clamped it off. With scissors, she cut

  the president’s coat and shirt sleeve up to the level of his shoulder and

  wrapped a tourniquet around his arm. As she unwrapped a large-bore

  intravenous catheter, an agent gripped her wrist.

  “I think you can hold up there, Doc.” He grinned. “Dave here is

  afraid of needles and we wouldn’t want him to faint on us.”

  Thompson removed the O2 mask, and the agent playing the

  president grinned at her. He could pass for Andrew Powell at a distance,

  but this close, she could see he was younger and a little heavier. “How

  are you feeling, Mr. President?”

  “I’m doing great, Doc. So are you.” The presidential double pushed

  up on the seat and swatted at the man holding the compression dressing

  on his groin. “Let up there, will you? My toes are falling asleep.”

  The agent holding the gauze laughed, said something into his

  microphone, and the vehicle slowed. “Nice work, Doc. We’d be arriving

  at the trauma center about now with the president stabilized.”

  “What about the two we left behind?” Wes asked, thinking of

  Evyn and the blood running down her throat. Everything in her rebelled

  against leaving a dying patient in the field.

  His grin faded. “They’re not your concern.”

  “Understood.” Methodically, Wes packed up her kit, the image of

  Evyn bleeding to death on the sidewalk burning in her mind. The next

  time she had to leave her behind might not be an exercise. She wasn’t

  sure how to square that with her conscience, or her ethics, or her heart.

  v

  “Nice job, Doc.” Vince, the agent who had assisted Wes during

  the resuscitation of the “president,” veered off toward the ready room,

  leaving Wes alone.

  • 112 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  “Thanks,” Wes called after him. She headed for the locker room

  to store her gear. After the exercise had ended, their SUV had turned

  around and followed the limo back to DC. She hadn’t seen Evyn since

  she’d left her on the sidewalk, but if Evyn wanted her for anything else,

  she’d no doubt find her.

  The locker room was empty, except for a navy blue polo shirt and

  khakis folded neatly on a bench in the center of the room. The shower

  ran in the adjoining room. Those clothes were most likely Evyn’s. She’d

  seen a few other female agents in the halls, and they’d all been dressed

  the way Evyn usually was—in jackets and pants. She wanted Evyn’s

  take on the morning’s scenario, and she didn’t want to spend the rest of

  the day with the mental image of Evyn bleeding out on the street. She

  knew it was all a fabrication, but on some instinctual, primitive level,

  she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she’d let her die.

  Wes leaned against the lockers and reran the incident again.

  She’d been doing that all the way back in the SUV while the agents

  relaxed, cracked jokes, and gossiped. Someone had speculated on

  where Evyn had spent the night of the storm, noting she’d turned up for

  work wearing her emergency change of clothes and they hadn’t had an

  emergency. Wes tried to tune out the good-natured griping about some

  people having all the luck. If Evyn had spent the night with someone,

  it was no business of hers. She blocked the chatter the way she did the

  constant hum of voices during a trauma alert and concentrated on what

  she had done earlier, and why. She still wasn’t happy with the choice

  she’d made, despite knowing she’d made the only choice open to her.

  And would make it again.

  “You planning on taking a shower?” Evyn walked in with a white

  towel wrapped around her torso, covering her to mid-thigh. She pointed

  to a closet. “In there.”

  “No, I’m fine. I wasn’t out there long enough to work up a

  sweat.”

  “I wish I had.” Evyn opened a locker across from the pile of

  clothes on the bench and stowed a bath kit on the top shelf. “I froze my

  ass off lying on that sidewalk, and it was wet.”

  “And of course, there was the blood.”

  “Since it wasn’t real, it wasn’t even warm.” Evyn glanced at Wes

  over her bare shoulder, loosened the towel, and let it drop to the floor.

  “You sound a little pissed.”

  • 113 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Wes jerked her gaze up to Evyn’s face, but not before she’d taken

  in the entire naked panorama of Evyn’s back and backside. Smooth

  skin, toned muscles, all blending into inviting tanned curves. “Not

  exactly pissed. Just not sure of the point.”

  “I thought the point was obvious—GSW is still the most likely

  form of assault on POTUS.” Evyn slid black panties from an open

  nylon bag inside the locker and pulled them on. They were cut high on

  the sides, accentuating the expanse of honed thigh from hip to knee.

  “And do you really think if I’d been briefed beforehand, I

  would have reacted any differently?” Wes shook her head. “I’m sure

  you practice that scenario regularly—knowing what is coming—and

  without the benefit of simulated blood.”

  “You’re right—we do. Dozens of times, for months, before we

  ever ride in a vehicle on PPD.” Evyn grasped the khakis, pulled them

  on, and slipped the polo shirt over her naked chest. “You haven’t.”

  Wes watched. Evyn didn’t seem to mind, and pretending she

  wasn’t watching would only make her interest even more apparent.

  Evyn was beautiful and looking at a beautiful woman came naturally.

  Pretending she didn’t want to would be unnatural, and she wasn’t any

  good at pretending. That’s what bothered her about the morning. She

  had done the right thing and her instincts screamed otherwise. “Had it

  been real, you would have died out there.”

  “This is where I say something like, ‘That’s my job. You shouldn’t

  worry about it.’” Evyn regarded her across the small room. “Do you

  believe that?”

  “Yes, and I respect your bravery.”

  Evyn waved her off with a snort and tucked her shirt into her

  pants. She zipped and buttoned and sat down to fish socks and shoes

  out of her locker. “It’s not a matter of bravery, it’s a matter of training.

  When you’ve done it enough times, you don’t think about it. Isn’t that

  the way it is for you?”

  Wes moved down the row of lockers, wanting to see Evyn’s face as

  they talked. “Yes, that’s exactly how it is for me. Only my training says

  I don’t leave a seriously injured patient in the field when my attention

  could make the difference between life and death.”

  “You see,” Evyn said lightly, “that’s the whole point. Your training

  might get
in the way, and we can’t let that happen, can we?”

  “You’re purposely being obtuse.”

  • 114 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  Evyn grinned. “Is that painful? It sounds painful.”

  Wes smothered a laugh. Evyn was very, very good at deflecting the

  conversation from topics that touched on the personal. “Any emergency

  physician could have handled that situation this morning. And any ER

  doc—”

  “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

  • 115 •

  RADCLY fFE

  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.

  v

  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,

  • 116 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  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.

  • 117 •

  RADCLY fFE

  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 showin
g 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?”

  • 118 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  “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?”

  “I tried to talk her out of coming along.”

  “I thought you might. I take it she disagreed?”

  “Vociferously.” Andrew sighed and loosened his tie. “I couldn’t

  deny that her presence has always made a difference in my election

  campaigns. The public loves her, and she grabs the attention of the

  younger voters. They rally around her because she’s so smart and strong

  and doesn’t care who knows how she feels.”

  “She’s her father’s daughter in that.”

  “No small amount of that comes from you.”

  “And her mother,” Lucinda said softly.

  “Yes. And her mother.”

  “Blair won’t run from danger, and unless we change our plans

  to bring Cameron inside, there’s no way we’ll convince Blair to stay

  home.”

  “We could do this without Cam,” Andrew said. “I’m not happy