Radclyffe - Oath of Honor
whimsical now.”
“You don’t strike me as the whimsical type.”
“No, I was always practical,” Wes said, although there had been
a time, long ago, before her father died—before everything changed—
when she’d dreamed without boundaries. “I knew growing up I’d need
to join the armed forces if I wanted an education. I chose the navy
because of the sea.”
“But you stayed in. You didn’t have to.”
“No, I could have left after I fulfilled my educational obligations,
but the navy needs doctors and teachers, and I was comfortable.”
“Is that what you do mostly, teach?” Evyn came back to earth as
the sinking feeling in her stomach spread. Masters was not only green,
she wasn’t even a front-line medic.
“Yes,” Wes said. “I’m an associate professor at the Uniformed
Services University.”
Evyn watched the frothing water climb higher on the sands,
encroaching on the dunes, and digested that little detail. A professor.
The choice of Wes Masters to replace O’Shaughnessy made even
less sense, but then most government decisions were based on some
complex rubric of politics, power maneuvering, and personal agendas.
She should never have expected any of it to make sense. She looked at
Masters, who was contemplating her again. “This duty is going to be a
lot different than what you’re used to.”
A muscle bunched in Masters’s jaw, but her expression remained
calm, appraising. “I’m aware of that, Agent. I can assure you, I’ll be up
to the task.”
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“Oh, I’m certain of that,” Evyn said. “Unless something changes,
it’s my job to see that you are.”
Wes frowned. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t really understand, either,” Evyn said. “I don’t understand
why Peter Chang—” She broke off, sucked in a breath. She was about
to lose her cool and complain about Peter being passed over to the last
person who should know she had issues. She never made mistakes like
that. “I’ve been assigned to orient you to the interface between the
Presidential Protective Detail and the White House Medical Unit.”
“I see.”
Evyn sighed. Maybe it was the cold—three years, and she still
wasn’t used to the damn winters. Maybe it was the lack of sleep over
the last few days. Maybe it was the unsettling, unwavering focus in
Wes’s eyes. But something was making her behave like a stranger to
herself as well as an ass. “Look, I’m sorry, Captain. The weather seems
to be affecting my mood. I’m usually not quite so surly—well, not after
my first cup of coffee.”
“No apologies necessary. And it’s Wes,” Wes said, seemingly
willing to accept the change in subject. “Not a Northern girl?”
Evyn snorted. “Miami, born and bred.”
“Ah,” Wes said. “The winter can do funny things to your
perceptions sometimes. Just remember, spring always follows.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind when my ass is freezing off,” Evyn
muttered.
“If you think that’s in danger of happening, you should come in
out of the cold.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Evyn said lightly, wondering
if the warmth in Wes’s gaze just might make the cold a little more
bearable. A warning twinge flagged that as a dangerous line of thought,
and she wisely squelched it. “We brief daily at zero seven hundred in
PPD command center in the Old Executive Office Building. You should
plan to be there as soon as you’re officially on board. I imagine all
the bullshi—paperwork and getting moved and such will take a few
days.”“Actually, no. I’ll be in DC tomorrow. I’m riding back on Marine
One today.”
Evyn narrowed her eyes. What the hell? Why hadn’t Tom said
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anything? She hated being out of the loop when anything affecting her
job was at issue. “On whose authority?”
Wes’s face shuttered closed. “Lucinda Washburn’s.”
Evyn bit back a comment—Lucinda’s word was law at the House.
Maybe Tom could shed some light on why the rush to get Masters to
DC. “Good. You should make the briefing tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll do that. Then I have to meet my team.”
“You can do that after we review our schedule for the orientation,”
Evyn said. “Unless we have an away trip or you have a medical
emergency, you’ll be detailed to me until further notice.”
“Thank you, Agent. I’ll report to you in the morning, then.”
Wes turned and walked away and Evyn looked back out the
window. Wes obviously was used to calling the shots, but PPD was
running this show. She’d just have to get used to it. Twilight enveloped
the island, turning the ocean black. The sensation of having slipped out
of time faded and the normal chaos of Evyn’s life crowded back in. She
welcomed the tension and the wariness, feelings she understood.
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Oath Of hOnOr
chapter five
The wedding celebration wound down around 2000 hours, and
after the good-byes had been said, Wes followed the group
returning to Andrews with the president. While the president boarded
Marine One along with Lucinda Washburn, his security chief, staff, and
med unit, Wes ducked under the rotors and clambered up the stairs into
the body of a nearby VH-60N Whitehawk helicopter, one of several
helos identical to Marine One idling on a large expanse of cleared
land behind Whitley Manor. On the flight back, the decoy helos would
fly alongside Marine One in a complex aerial shell game of shifting
positions to obscure which aircraft carried the president, in the event
of an attack.
Wes glanced around, saluted a vice admiral already seated in the
single seat directly behind the cockpit, and took one of the three seats
on the bench along the wall. Two marines in full dress uniform boarded
and sat beside her, followed by Evyn Daniels and the male agent who’d
been at the gate with her earlier. As soon as they were strapped in, the
helicopter lifted away, making conversation impossible. Evyn, in the
jump seat directly across the narrow aisle from Wes, pulled a small
electronic device from the pocket of her black trench coat and started
to scroll.
Looking out the window next to Evyn, Wes watched the lights
of Whitley Island growing fainter and finally disappearing beneath the
low-lying cloud cover as the convoy headed out over water. Wes shifted
her gaze from the night to Evyn, whose profile was softened by the
dim glow of the cabin lights. Her burgundy hair fell forward over her
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RADCLY fFE
cheek in loose, thick waves, and she absently pushed them away as she
focused on the small screen in her hand. The movement was wholly
unconscious and lent her an air of vulnerability Wes suspected she
would disavow. A small frown line bisected the smooth skin between
her arched reddish brown brows. She had that on-the-job look and was
probably getting some kind of status report. She hadn’t looked at Wes
once. Annoyed that she didn’t register on Evyn’s radar and annoyed at
herself for caring, Wes wondered which woman she’d met that day was
the real Evyn Daniels.
USSS SA Evyn Daniels was obviously competent, dedicated, and
all business—that much had been established with their first encounter
at the gate. But Evyn was more than just a suit with a gun and badge.
For a few moments when they’d stood at the windows overlooking the
shore, they’d talked of things that went beyond aimless party chatter.
They’d shared something of themselves, something Wes usually only
did with family and close friends. With everyone else, she discussed
cases and assignments—safe, common ground. She’d been the one to
strike up the conversation with Evyn, also unlike her. But she’d been
drawn to the faraway look on Evyn’s face as she’d stood alone against
a backdrop of sea and sand—looking remote and somehow sad. And
very beautiful. Evyn had been easy to talk to, showing glimmers of
humor and warmth, at least until the subject of Peter Chang had come
up. Then Evyn had revealed a well of anger she’d quickly suppressed.
When Wes had shifted the conversation to safe ground and the subject
of business, she’d instantly missed their brief but unexpectedly intense
connection.
Evyn’s slip when Chang was mentioned made it pretty clear she
didn’t think Wes was the right person for her new job. Ordinarily Wes
didn’t concern herself with what anyone other than her commanding
officers felt about her and her performance, but it bothered her that
Evyn didn’t believe she had earned the post. What Evyn thought
mattered, personally and professionally, so she was going to have to
prove to Evyn she was capable of the job. After all these years, she’d
thought she was past that. She hadn’t needed or wanted to prove herself
to anyone in a long time.
The day had been full of surprises, mostly unwelcome ones. She
hadn’t felt so displaced since she’d left home for the Naval Academy
and had been cut loose from her strongest support system as abruptly as
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Oath Of hOnOr
a blade across her throat. At first, she’d missed her mother’s unwavering
belief in her and her sisters’ humor so much she’d thought she might
break. She hadn’t broken. She’d reached inside herself and found their
voices alive and strong in her heart. She’d adapted, she’d adjusted, and
she’d triumphed. Now she was back in unknown waters, with no place
to live, a new command, and, apparently, the need to prove herself to
Evyn Daniels.
v
Evyn’s push was waiting at the House when the motorcade from
Andrews pulled into the south drive. Tom had texted they’d debrief in
the morning. As soon as POTUS was on his way into the residence,
she was done. She headed toward the west gate and the Ellipse where
she’d parked her car. Up ahead, she recognized Masters walking toward
Pennsylvania Avenue. She hesitated, giving her time to get ahead of
her. In the next second, she sped up, refusing to think about why.
“Hey,” Evyn called, catching up to Wes at the corner. “You need
a ride?”
Masters looked at her, clearly surprised, making Evyn feel like a
bigger jerk for even thinking about leaving her to fend for herself in the
middle of the night. But Wes made her so damn uncomfortable—she
didn’t know what she was doing. “I’ve got a car.” Now there was a
fairly brainless statement. “Let me take you.”
“Thanks,” Masters said. “I’m okay. I’ll grab a cab. I’m just going
across town to a hotel.”
“It’s almost twenty-three thirty, Captain. Not a great time of night
to get a cab in this part of town, and definitely no time to be out and
about alone.”
Masters laughed. “It’s Wes, remember? Do you think I need
protection?”
Glad for the cover of dark to hide the flush that heated her cheeks,
Evyn said, “I’m positive you don’t. But I can’t see any reason for you
to freeze your ass off out here.”
“It’s twenty-five degrees,” Wes pointed out. “Not that cold.”
Evyn snorted and watched her breath frost in the air. Obviously,
Wes was from somewhere north of the Mason-Dixon Line. “It’s about
fifty degrees colder than I like it.”
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RADCLY fFE
Wes laughed harder, a deep, mellow sound that warmed Evyn’s
stomach in a totally unexpected and not unwelcome way.
“What are you doing up here, if you hate the winter so much?”
Wes asked.
Evyn jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. The
conversation was verging on the personal, and she was out of her
element in more ways than the weather. She didn’t even talk about this
sort of thing when she was trying to connect with a woman for the
night. And this was twice in one day with Wes. She shrugged. “This is
the detail I wanted, so the weather is part of the job.”
“The president is something of a skier too, isn’t he?”
“POTUS, his daughter—regular snow bunnies. It’s unnatural.”
God, she hated those ski trips, not that she’d ever let on.
“Obviously, you love your job.”
“Yeah,” Evyn said, meaning it, but Wes didn’t need to know that.
Wes didn’t need to know anything at all about her. Time to shut down
the information highway.
“Are you hungry?” Wes asked.
“Uh—yeah, for me, it’s dinnertime.”
“Well, I left my quarters at zero six hundred this morning, and the
only thing I’ve had all day is coffee and little things that look like food
but are really just a tease.”
Evyn grinned. “Hors d’oeuvres. I don’t even think they count as
food.”“How about dinner somewhere, then?”
“I could eat.” Evyn had the sudden sensation she was walking
into a landmine, but Wes was just smiling at her. Friendly. Just a simple
meal between coworkers. Safe enough. “Okay. Sure.”
“Good. You know the area. You pick the place, Agent.”
“It’s Evyn.”
“Okay. Evyn.”
“Come on, I can’t feel my feet.” Evyn led the way to her ’57
T-Bird, keying the alarm as they approached.
“Nice car,” Wes said.
“The last of the classic design. I inherited it from my older
brother.”
Wes shot her a concerned look.
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“Not that way—Aaron is fine. He just decided the T-Bird wasn’t
dignified enough for a feeb.”
“He’s FBI?”
Evyn climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, waiting for
Wes to belt up before backing out. “Yeah. The shame of our family, but
we still love him.”
“Ah, let me guess. Government service is a family thing?”
“You could say that.” Evyn hesitated, impressed by and a little
wary of Wes’s ability to hear more than she said. She’d have to be
