by Carsen Taite
“Yes.”
There was more, a lot more. The guy scrolled down the page, gulping in all the information—some fact, some fiction—but all of it life-altering, not only for her, but also for the dozen soldiers who’d been implicated in the scheme along with their civilian cohorts. They were all facing dishonorable discharge, prison, or both, while she’d simply been ostracized and forced to shoulder the weight of choosing between country and her fellow soldiers. The last few months had been hell. She’d been called back to Fort Hood to face her superiors and submit to endless interviews that felt more like interrogations, and now she was being summoned by both the Pentagon brass and the Senate Committee on Armed Services.
She shouldn’t be surprised to be recognized, even here at forty thousand feet. Her CO had pointed out, in extremely colorful language, that as a result of her disloyalty, she could expect the spotlight of attention and scrutiny for the rest of her military career, however long that may be. His implication was far from subtle, but she had no intention of seeking a discharge, especially when she’d only been doing her job. The contractors who’d bribed her peers and the soldiers who’d compromised their mission were the ones who should pay, and if she went down with them, then it would have to be because she was forced out. She’d started her career with the end goal of retiring as one of a few female generals. If the Army wanted to kill her dreams, she’d fight them every step of the way.
The turbulence finally abated and the plane settled into a comfortable cruising altitude toward DC. The flight attendant, Karen, who’d been strapped in during the worst of it, walked back down the aisle encouraging passengers to keep their seat belts fastened should the winds kick up again. She stopped by Zoey’s seat and bent down close. “Major, may I buy you a drink?”
Zoey recognized the subtle flirtation and shook her head. “Besides, I thought drinks in first class were on the house.”
“They are, but I wasn’t talking about right now.” With the ease of a practiced flirt, Karen slipped a small folded piece of paper into Zoey’s seat back pocket. “I’ll be in town for a couple of days.” She straightened. “I meant what I said earlier. Your service is much appreciated. And thanks for standing up for what’s right.”
Zoey nodded her response, noting several other passengers had perked up at the attendant’s last words and wishing she could melt into the seat. She’d have plenty of attention focused on her over the next few weeks, but right now she craved the peace and solitude of this cross-country flight.
When Karen moved on to check on the remaining first class passengers, Zoey pulled a book from her small carry-on and pretended to read as a way of cutting off questions and conversation, but the attendant’s words nagged at her. Standing up for what’s right. That was exactly what she’d done, but nothing about the fallout had reinforced her expectation that honor was an act to be rewarded. As the words on the page blurred, her mind drifted to the paper Karen had tucked into the seat back pocket. In what she hoped was a subtle maneuver, Zoey retrieved the paper, and using it as a pseudo bookmark, read the message inviting her for “a drink or whatever.” Signed simply Karen, followed by a phone number. She should crumple the paper and dispose of it discreetly, but instead she tucked it into her book. Maybe a drink and “whatever” would be the perfect remedy to the clusterfuck she was about to endure.
* * *
Rook Daniels stood in the middle of Reagan National Airport and stared at the screen above her head, willing the information to change. Unfortunately, her superpowers weren’t up to the task today. Her flight to New York was delayed, and the airlines hadn’t posted a new time. The desk agent had ducked out within seconds of changing the flight status at the gate, and Rook had yet to find anyone who could answer her question about the reason for the delay. The limbo drove her crazy. If the wait was only an hour she’d be fine, but if it was more than that she might be better off abandoning the flight for another form of transportation. She pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed her office.
“Daniels’s Agency, how may I assist you?” The familiar, pleasant voice answered on the first ring.
“Lacy, it’s Rook. I made the wrong call booking commercial. The flight’s delayed and I can’t get an update on the new schedule. Ask Ben to see what he can find out. I need to know ASAP if we need to delay the press conference.”
“On it. Anything else?”
“I guess you better start looking for another way to get me to New York. And, Lacy?”
“Yes?”
“Delaying the press conference has to be the last resort. Understood?”
“Got it, boss. I’ll be in touch soon.”
Rook kept her phone in her hand and maintained her vigilant stalking of the gate, but after a few minutes, decided she needed a distraction or she’d come unhinged. She plowed her way through the milling crowds of passengers swarming the gates and took a seat at the bar where patrons were glued to several television sets broadcasting the NCAA basketball tournament. She wanted a drink but ordered a club soda and lime to keep her head clear, tipping the bartender generously to compensate for taking up a seat for a two-buck beverage. A few minutes in, she got a text from Lacy. Engine trouble. Looking for another plane. Should know more soon.
Encouraged by the fact she finally had some information, Rook settled back in her chair. The roar of the crowd in the bar pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked around to check the source of the commotion and saw the team from UNC celebrating on the big screen. She joined in with the cheers and almost missed the buzz of her phone.
Not looking good. Will have another solution ASAP.
Rook started to type a reply, but another commotion distracted her. This time the noise was coming from outside the bar, and she spotted a small band of cameramen lunging toward a gate agent across the way with shouted questions. Instinct forced her out of her chair, but before she could take a step toward the scene playing out across the way, a hand on her arm stilled her progress.
“Please stay. If you move, they’ll spot me for sure.”
Rook turned at the sound of the strong, sure voice and locked eyes with a tall, slender woman in a dress blue uniform. She catalogued her findings: Army officer, commissioned. She took note of the gold leaf on her shoulder and added major to the list of things she could file away as knowns. Rook slid back onto the bar stool and motioned for the major to sit next to her. Rook pointed at the disturbance across the way. “Is that about you?”
The major nodded, but her face remained otherwise stoic. Rook took a moment to assess the situation which included running through the list of stories she’d read in the Post and Times earlier in the day. She didn’t recall any news that would have the press barreling through the airport looking for a victim, but maybe this was breaking news. “Is it chase down the military day and I almost missed it?” She stuck out her hand. “Rook Daniels.”
A hint of a grin showed in the woman’s deep brown eyes, but her expression remained impassive. “Zoey Granger.”
Rook made a mental note that Zoey wasn’t loose with the pleasantries and took it as a challenge to get her to say more. Granger, Granger. She rolled the name over in her mind a few times until the slots fell into place. Major Zoey Granger. US Army. She’d exposed a massive fraud scheme between a group of soldiers and Nine Tech Inc., one of the nation’s largest defense contractors. The story had dominated the news on and off for the past few months, and Rook recalled reading yesterday that Granger would be testifying before the Senate Armed Services Committee this week. She started to acknowledge Zoey’s act of patriotism, but Zoey’s guarded manner prompted her to decide against it. “Nice to meet you, Major,” she said, opting for the subtle reference to Zoey’s rank to convey her inside knowledge. She jerked her chin at the reporters across the way. “They’re going to get restless eventually and start fanning out, especially if they’re certain you were on that plane.”
“How in the world did they even get past TSA?” Zoey murmured, a
s if talking to herself.
“Wouldn’t be the first time the cable news outlets bought plane tickets to get a scoop. Small price to pay for first crack at a big story.” Rook stood. “Come with me.”
Zoey’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You want to get out of here, right?” Rook reached out a hand. “Trust me. I got this.” She cast a look over her shoulder at the gaggle of press who, as she predicted, had started to spread out in search of their prey. Zoey followed her gaze, sighed, and placed her hand in Rook’s, following her to the ladies’ room. Rook glanced under the stalls and then pulled off her suit jacket. “Here, put this on.”
“I can’t take your clothes.”
Rook grinned. “Well, that’s moving a little fast, even for me.” She cleared her throat while Zoey glared. “I was only offering my jacket. The other stuff will have to wait until our second date.”
“You’re hilarious,” Zoey said, her tone flat.
“I get that all the time. Now, put it on.”
Rook checked her phone. Right on time, Lacy had texted her own escape route. Get to private terminal. SkyLight Helo standing by. You’ll be on time.
She typed a quick response. Thx. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and shook her jacket in Zoey’s direction. “Come on. We’ve got to get moving.”
Zoey tugged on the jacket, and Rook admired the way it fit over her uniform. It wasn’t a perfect disguise, but it might work. “Now, let down your hair. Literally. Shake it out and we’ll be ready to go.”
She watched while Zoey looked in the mirror, grimaced, pulled off her beret, and reached a hand up to loosen the pins holding her hair in place. When the auburn waves tumbled down onto Zoey’s shoulder, Rook swallowed a gasp. The major was a stunning beauty despite the perpetual frown. “Much better. Now plaster a smile on your face and stay close.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. A quick peek out the door revealed the path was clear for the moment. She motioned for Zoey to follow her and dashed down the hall, away from the churning crowds arriving and departing at the cluster of gates.
“Where are we going?”
Rook placed a finger against her lips and kept moving. A turn to the right and then left and then they were standing in front of a door that blared Airport Security in big red letters. Rook rapped a hand on the glass, but Zoey started edging away.
“What are you doing?”
Rook ignored the question and waved at the short man who appeared on the other side of the door. He shook his head as if resigned and cracked the door. “Daniels, you’re killing me.”
“Sorry, Gary. I’d say it’s the last time, but…” She raised her shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, you’d be serving your country with this one.” She pointed back toward Zoey. “The major here has an important meeting at the Capitol, but there’s a crowd that won’t let her through. If you can get us both to the private terminal, I’d owe you big time.” While she waited for his answer, she typed a quick text to Lacy.
“I have a big box of your IOUs.” He wagged a finger at her. “Watch out. Someday I’m going to cash in. Come on.”
He motioned them forward, and Rook glanced back at Zoey who still looked hesitant about forging ahead. Rook could hardly blame her since essentially they were strangers. She’d gotten used to clients following her instructions over the years, especially since she made strict adherence to her directives a condition of employment. She couldn’t help but wonder if Zoey’s decision to obey her instructions was because she followed orders for a living, but her thoughts quickly devolved into how sexy Zoey looked in her uniform. The reporters at the gate would’ve had a field day with her.
Not if I can help it. She started to grab Zoey’s hand again, but opted to be more discreet, nodding for Zoey to go with Gary through the network of halls off limits to the general public, until they reached a door leading outside. Gary held it open. “I’ve got to get back, but you can find your way from here,” he said, pointing at a hangar about a hundred yards away. “Good luck.”
Rook thanked him as the door closed and checked her phone while Zoey looked at the closed door and then back at her. “What’s the plan now?” she asked.
“We hike over to the hangar and catch a ride.”
“I’m not getting back on a plane.” Zoey placed her hands on her hips as if to emphasize her defiance.
“Who said anything about a plane? You’ll have a car and a driver who will take you anywhere in the city you need to go. No questions asked.”
“And you?”
“As much as I wish I could accompany you on this little adventure, I have a meeting I need to get to.” She looked into Zoey’s eyes and thought she spotted the tiniest tinge of regret. Rook wanted to act on it, but there wasn’t time. “Come on.”
A few minutes later, they were in the hangar reserved for charter flights. Rook gave her name at the desk, and the woman pointed outside to the helicopter on the pad. Before she could ask about the car, she spotted the familiar vehicle. She told the woman she’d board in just a second and walked back to Zoey.
“Your car is ready.”
Zoey followed her gaze. “Are you going back to the main terminal?”
“Nope. That’s my ride.” Rook pointed at the helicopter as she escorted Zoey to the car. “It’s been fun tearing through the airport with you.” They were steps away from the car, and now that it was time to part ways, Rook wished she hadn’t had to rush. She started to ask for Zoey’s number, but the driver’s side window lowered and her driver, George, peered out. She resigned herself to handing Zoey’s care over to him. “Major Zoey Granger, meet George Olson. George will take good care of you.”
Zoey looked between them and then, apparently satisfied there was no danger in accepting the favor, shrugged out of Rook’s jacket, handed it over, and stepped into the car while Rook held the door. She wanted to say more, ask how long Zoey would be in town, ask if she could see her again under different circumstances, but her strict rule about not getting involved with clients stopped her despite the fact Zoey wasn’t an official client, but more of a pro bono on the fly rescue case. Still, she had a press conference to get to, and the sooner Zoey cleared the airport, the better off she’d be. She squeezed Zoey’s hand, stepped back, and shut the door on this fun little chapter. Time to go to New York and straighten out someone else’s mess.
* * *
Zoey watched through the car window as Rook climbed aboard the helicopter. Rook was rakish, dashing, and devilishly handsome, and Zoey shook her head at her good fortune at running into her. But now that Rook was gone and Zoey was in a car with a stranger, she questioned her lack of discretion. For all she knew, Rook Daniels was an opportunist, exactly like the reporters who’d been chasing her through the airport in an attempt to turn her life into a front-page story.
“Where to, ma’am?”
She looked at the driver, George, surprised at the soft, quiet tone of his voice. She made a split-second decision that he seemed harmless enough despite his hulking frame. “The Pentagon.”
“Excellent.” He took a moment to consult his phone. “Traffic is light. We should arrive in about thirty minutes.” He pulled out of the parking lot, and Zoey watched the helicopter carry Rook into the sky as they drove away. Resigned to her decision to let this scenario play out, she leaned back into the cushioned leather seat and tried to relax.
The summons from General Bloomfield had come with very little information, which wasn’t in itself unusual, but the timing—so close to her testimony before Congress—was suspect. She’d been trained not to question orders, but now that she was within a half hour of obtaining more detail, she couldn’t help but wonder if the summons was a not-so-subtle means of dismissal.
Whistleblower laws were designed to keep people in her position safe, but that was the law, not the reality. She’d heard anecdotes of people in her position leaving quietly, choosing to resign their commissions rather than fight the system and poten
tially lose the benefits they’d worked so hard to guarantee. She didn’t want to fight, but she’d already decided she would if it came down to it. Maybe the hearings would buy her a little time since she doubted the brass wanted her appearing in front of Congress with a discharge fresh on the books.
She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen, just then realizing she’d forgotten to take it off airplane mode in the flurry back at the terminal. When she switched it back on, the screen blew up with alerts. She skimmed the texts from General Bloomfield’s assistant, and her apprehension grew.
Corporal Stine will pick you up. He’ll meet you at baggage claim. Text him when you land. A number followed. The next text read: All bags claimed and you’re nowhere in sight. Report.
Twenty minutes later: Flight manifest says you were on board. Is disappearing one of your special skills?
She punched the number for Stine. “Stine, it’s Granger. Stand down. I didn’t get the message you’d be picking me up until just now, and I had to duck a gaggle of reporters at the airport. I’m en route to the Pentagon. I’ll call and let the office know I’m on the way.”
“Better let me call, Major. No need in you taking more of a beating than you have been.”
Zoey breathed a sigh of relief at the friendly overture. “Thanks. Much appreciated. Sorry you had to make a wasted trip.”
“Not a problem. Drive safe.”
If George’s calculations were correct, they’d arrive at the Pentagon in twenty minutes and she could do with a dose of non-military conversation before being submersed again. Fact was, her mind kept wandering back to Rook, and curiosity won out over duty.
“George, how well do you know Rook Daniels?”
He flicked a glance at her in the rearview mirror, and Zoey sensed she was being sized up. “I’ve known Ms. Daniels ever since she came to DC. I used to drive for her father.”
