Price of Honor Read online

  The sound of vehicles approaching drew her back to the window. Her heart lifted as the convoy of SUVs came up the snowy drive and parked in a ring in front of the cabin. Doors opened, a flood of armed agents emerged, and she raced to the cabin door.

  Cam reached her when she was halfway across the porch. Blair didn’t care who was watching. She threw her arms around Cam’s neck and kissed her hard. Cam’s arms circled her waist, holding her tight.

  “It’s over?” Blair asked.

  Cam brushed her cheek with a bare hand. “Yes. Are you all right?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Blair said softly. “You?”

  Cam nodded. “Never better.”

  “The train?”

  “Everyone is fine.” Cam let her go. “I’ll have to see your father now.”

  “I know. Can I come?”

  “Of course.”

  “I love you, you know.”

  Cam grinned. “I’m counting on it. Every minute of every day.”

  *

  “She withdrew the drones?” Andrew Powell said.

  “Yes,” Cam said, “forty-five minutes after our last communication they lifted off and flew to the coordinates you’d provided. The bomb containment unit is on it now.”

  “She couldn’t sacrifice her brother,” Blair said.

  “No,” Cam said. “She couldn’t.”

  “What about her?” the president asked.

  “We’ve got teams out on foot, in the air, and on the roads.”

  Andrew gave Cam a penetrating stare. “What are the chances of finding her?”

  “Fifty-fifty.” Cam sighed. “She has a head start, she’s undoubtedly a trained survivalist, and she likely had an exit plan already in place. It’s rough territory out there and the storm’s not helping.”

  Blair said, “What’s the chance she’ll try again?”

  “Tom and I agree,” Cam said, “the chance of another up-close attack on the president is small. At this point, she represents the same threat level as any other UNSUB, and we’re well prepared for that.”

  “So you’re not going to cancel the rest of the tour?” Blair asked.

  “We can’t,” Lucinda said. “There’s far too much advance press and investment in the scheduled appearances. We’d never be able to give a plausible explanation for cutting things short.”

  “The train is already en route to the next stop,” Cam said. “The press secretary gave a statement to the press corps about the president’s unscheduled departure from the train. We’re using the old national security excuse for not briefing them any further. We’ll all meet up again in Trinidad and carry on.”

  “Vivian knows about Gary Williams,” Blair pointed out. “And she knows what happened out there.”

  “This time the national security card is a legitimate one,” Lucinda said. “I’ve already talked to her by phone. She understands the situation.”

  Blair nodded. Vivian was someone she could trust.

  The president asked, “Did Gary Williams give you anything?”

  Cam shook her head. “He didn’t put up a struggle when we went to pick him up, but that was the extent of his cooperation. I don’t think he’ll talk.”

  “Like his sister Jennifer.” Blair sighed. “I wish this trip was over.”

  “I might as well add to the misery,” Lucinda said. “Franklin Russo has decided to capitalize on all the press around the president’s trip. He’s staging an appearance opposite the president’s in Flagstaff. So, of course, you and Cam will have to be there onstage to power up our finale.”

  “Political maneuvering,” Blair said. “It never ends.”

  Lucinda smiled. “That’s the name of the game, after all.”

  “When do we head out for the train?” Cam asked.

  “Later this afternoon.” Lucinda glanced at the president. “I think everyone has earned a few hours’ rest.”

  Blair stood. “I’d rather a few days, but I’ll take it.”

  Out in the hall, Cam grasped Blair’s hand. “Hey. Care to join me for a shower and a nap?”

  Blair leaned against her. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

  In the room they’d been assigned, Blair closed the blinds and pulled back the covers on the bed. They showered quickly and crawled naked under the sheets. She curled up next to Cam and put her head on her shoulder. “How are you doing?”

  Cam sighed. “I’m tired. But I’m okay.”

  “Do you really think she’s going to quit?”

  “She’s tried twice now and failed. She’s a good strategist—she has to know she’s beaten.”

  “How did you know she wouldn’t destroy the train with him on it?”

  “Because everything she’s done has been motivated by love for her family,” Cam said. “She’s been raised from the time she was a child to place loyalty to cause and family before herself. Her father’s dead, her sister’s incarcerated. Her brother is all she has left, and I couldn’t see her trading him for her sister.”

  “Now you have her brother and she has nothing,” Blair said. “Won’t that make her even more dangerous?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe seeing her whole family fail will be enough to make her reconsider what she’s really doing.” Cam kissed Blair’s temple. “I hope so.”

  “You sound a little sorry for her,” Blair said.

  “I’m not, not really.” Cam stroked Blair’s hair, staring at the tiny shafts of sunlight dancing across the ceiling. “She made her choices. She might have been molded, maybe even warped, as a child, but she knows the difference between right and wrong. She knows what they were doing was treason and an act of terrorism. But part of me wonders what choices she would’ve made if she hadn’t been raised the way she was.”

  “What will you do if you have a chance to capture her?”

  “Bring her in and leave her to the justice system.” Cam kissed Blair. “Because that’s how this country is supposed to work.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too. More than anything.”

  “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you or our life,” Blair murmured, feeling sleep dragging her down. She could sleep safely, because Cam was here and Cam was hers.

  “Neither would I,” Cam said softly. “Go to sleep now, baby. I’m here.”

  Epilogue

  Flagstaff, Arizona: the end of the line

  “Pull over here,” Jane said.

  Hooker turned into a roadside lookout that would be crowded with tourists in a few hours. At an hour before dawn, no one was around. Flagstaff lay three miles away in a basin in the Ponderosa pine forest, the sprawling city marked by the lights of the Northern Arizona University campus, the downtown area, and the sporadic headlights of cars speeding along Route 66.

  “Plenty of spots up here for me to lay low for a while,” Hooker said. “You might need a ride out of this place a little later.”

  “No, I won’t.” Jane handed him a slip of paper. “You’ll need this to pick up the package at FedEx in Sedona. It should be there already.”

  He looked at it, his jaw working. “The money’s been there all along?”

  She smiled. “Most of the time.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me in on this op either?”

  “No need for you to know.”

  He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “You know, you can’t really change things by taking out one man. Just because he’s got the title doesn’t mean he’s really in command of anything. The kinds of things you want to change—there’s usually a lot of people wielding power behind the scenes, people who won’t necessarily stop even if you take out the figurehead.”

  “Sometimes a big statement is the only thing that makes an impression,” Jane said, having heard the refrain repeated thousands of times by her father and his friends. She still believed it, mostly, but it didn’t much matter anymore. Jennifer and Robbie were looking at life in prison. The chance that she would ever
see them again was zero. Her father was gone, and along with him, the organization he had built. She’d told Robbie they could find another militia to join, but when she tried to imagine putting her faith in someone the way she had her father, she couldn’t picture it.

  “I’ve gotta get going,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Hooker said. “Me too.”

  “Russo,” she said. “You’re a liability to him, you know that, right?”

  Hooker laughed, the sound like gravel crunching under tires. “Oh yeah, I’ve always known that. Always knew I’d have to get out before he decided I wasn’t any use anymore. Since I haven’t been returning any of his boy Derek’s calls, I think that time is now.”

  Jane pushed open the door and stepped out. Hooker must know he’d be running for the rest of his life, if he was lucky. “You might want to get rid of this Jeep when you hit Sedona. They’ll figure out who it belongs to sooner or later.”

  “I could leave it somewhere for you.”

  “I won’t be needing it.”

  Jane closed the door, shouldered her pack and rifle, and strode to the edge of the drop-off leading down the mountainside. She turned and watched Hooker pull out and drive away. When his taillights disappeared around a curve, she quickly dropped down the slope and disappeared into the trees.

  *

  “I hadn’t realized how much I missed the big bed,” Blair said, stepping out of the hotel-room bathroom and toweling off her hair.

  Cam grinned. “The berth was cozy, but there’s a lot more you can do with a little extra room.”

  Blair laughed. “I noticed that last night.”

  “Ready for today?”

  “Considering we’ll be headed home after this one is over, more than ready.”

  “Me too.”

  Blair pulled the white terry hotel robe from the closet and slipped into it. “I got an email from Vivian Elliott. She, Dusty, and their dog made it back to DC just fine and apparently they’re going to spend the rest of Dusty’s medical leave at a shore house somewhere down South. Viv says it’s a great place for a picnic. Do you think picnic is a euphemism for sex?”

  “You know, baby,” Cam said, sliding her arms inside Blair’s robe, “sometimes a cigar is just a—”

  Blair nipped at Cam’s jaw and smoothed her palms over Cam’s spectacular ass. “Yeah, but I’m thinking in this case it’s more.”

  “Maybe we can get away for a while and have a few picnics of our own.” Cam kissed Blair’s neck and eased free. “And that is a euphemism.”

  Blair grinned and sprawled in the big chair by the window to watch Cam dress, something she never tired of. She loved Cam naked, she loved her in a suit. She just loved her. By the time Cam donned a pale charcoal shirt the same shade as her eyes, Blair couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. She smoothed the shirt collar down, pressed her palms to Cam’s chest, and kissed her. “I couldn’t be prouder to stand up there onstage with you and show the world you’re mine.”

  “Adam said he wanted us to be low-key, remember?” Cam ran her hands through Blair’s still-damp hair.

  “Oh, and I so care what Adam Eisley wants. He’s Dad’s campaign manager, not mine.”

  Cam laughed. “You still going to wear that little red dress?”

  Blair laughed. “Damn right I am.”

  “Then let’s go make a statement.”

  *

  Jane stretched out on top of the water tower. By eleven, the metal surface would have been too hot to tolerate if she hadn’t spread out a thermal barrier blanket underneath her. By the time her perch became too uncomfortable, she wouldn’t need it anymore. She sighted on the stage through her scope and watched as the faithful arrived. The distance was at the farthest range of her weapon and her skill, but she wasn’t worried. She wasn’t going to miss, not this time. This time, she’d have justice—if not for Jennifer and Robbie, at least for her father.

  Chances were they’d reach the water tower or cut off her exit routes before she’d have a chance to get away. That was fine too. She didn’t really have anyplace to go.

  The minutes ticked by and the motorcade arrived, a line of black limos and SUVs gleaming under the winter sun. She watched through her scope as people filed into the stands facing the stage and the man of the hour stepped out from the line of vehicles, surrounded by a handful of security. She tracked him across the stage, patiently, like stalking a deer from a blind. She had nothing but time now. When he finally stepped up to the podium, a thrill of satisfaction coiled in her belly. She settled her cheek against the stock, her heart rate slow, her breathing even slower. As she focused on Franklin Russo’s face, she saw her father’s.

  Honor thy father, she thought, and squeezed the trigger.

  About the Author

  Radclyffe has written over forty-five romance and romantic intrigue novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

  She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award finalist in romance, mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance (Distant Shores, Silent Thunder) and erotica (Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments edited with Stacia Seaman and In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame, she is also an RWA / FF&P Prism Award winner for Secrets in the Stone, an RWA FTHRW Lories and RWA HODRW winner for Firestorm, an RWA Bean Pot winner for Crossroads, and an RWA Laurel Wreath winner for Blood Hunt. In 2014 she was awarded the Dr. James Duggins Outstanding Mid-Career Novelist Award by the Lambda Literary Foundation.

  She is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBTQ publishing companies.

  Find her at facebook.com/Radclyffe.BSB, follow her on Twitter @RadclyffeBSB, and visit her website at Radfic.com.

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