Price of Honor

by Radclyffe

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Viv blinked and heat rushed to her face. Dusty stood a few feet away, her hand on the back of the empty chair across from Viv, a whimsical glint in her eyes.

  “Oh my God,” Viv said, hoping she hadn’t been ignoring her. “I was daydreaming and didn’t see you coming.”

  Dusty took mercy on her and pulled out the chair and sat down. “A good daydream?”

  Viv suspected her face was on fire at this point, but something about Dusty emboldened her, made her take chances. She turned the wineglass in her hand, her gaze meeting Dusty’s questioning one. “A very good one. I was thinking about you, actually.”

  Dusty’s lips parted, a half-smile dancing across her face. “Really?”

  Viv nodded.

  “I think you might be the first one who’s ever done that.”

  Viv caught her breath. Dusty had changed out of her BDUs into a white shirt, dark jeans, and a leather bomber jacket. Droplets of melted snow shone in her windblown hair. Everything about her from her down-home good looks to her trim, solid body was sexy. Was it possible Dusty didn’t know how incredibly good-looking she was? How amazing her complete lack of artifice, especially in the world of façades they inhabited? “I can’t believe that. I bet you’ve had girls dreaming about you since high school.”

  Dusty slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t much for conversation.”

  “Girls love the strong silent type.”

  “Just girls?”

  “Women too,” Viv said, walking closer to the edge.

  “I’ve got the silent part down, I think.” Dusty laughed.

  “I think maybe you’ve got it all down.”

  “Are we flirting?”

  Viv’s heart gave a little rush. “I think so. How does it feel?”

  Dusty pressed her palms to the white linen tablecloth and gently brushed the wrinkles from it, smoothing it across the surface of the table. Viv imagined those hands smoothing their way down her body and wasn’t sure she could sit through a meal without totally losing what control she had left. She’d already risked more in a day than she had in a year with Kate.

  Dusty looked up, her expression completely unguarded. “It feels really nice. I don’t think I’m very good at it, though.”

  “You don’t have to try. You don’t have to do anything at all.” Viv couldn’t help herself. She took Dusty’s hand. It was warm and dry. Calluses formed a tiny ridge across her palm. Dusty’s fingers closed around hers and a thrill ran up her arm. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. Just be you and that will be perfect.”

  “I…” Dusty shook her head, staring at Viv’s fingers wrapped around hers. She’d never sat in a restaurant holding a woman’s hand before. She’d had a date or two when she was in college, but she’d never felt comfortable. She knew there were things she was supposed to be doing or saying, but she was never really certain what they were. She hated the feeling of having disappointed and not knowing why. Then, work became all-consuming, so it hadn’t mattered. It mattered now. She traced her thumb over the top of Viv’s hand, caressing each knuckle, marveling at the delicate bones beneath the soft skin. “I think you might decide before dinner’s over there’s not all that much to find out about me.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” Viv said quietly, “but let’s not worry about that. Let’s relax together before all the craziness starts and enjoy dinner. You can tell me how you picked Atlas out of all the other pups you could have had.”

  Dusty laughed, and the worry slipped away. “You know it’s easy for me to talk about him, right?”

  “I noticed that, but I really want to know the answer too.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  Viv’s eyebrows rose. “Oh yes? We’re bargaining now, are we?”

  Dusty nodded, enjoying the little bit of play. Surprised how easy Viv made everything. “We are.”

  “All right then. What are the terms?”

  “I’ll answer your question, but then you have to tell me something about you.”

  Viv was quiet, and Dusty started to worry she’d made a mistake. Maybe she’d asked too much, too soon.

  “All right,” Viv said quietly. “That’s a deal.”

  “All right then.” Dusty let out a long breath, relieved. “There were only four pups in Atlas’s litter. Three males and a female. The female was feisty and adventurous, but on the whole, the males are better for this work. They’re a little bigger and heavier and sometimes, but not always, more aggressive. So I only looked at the males.”

  “And Atlas was the most outgoing and inquisitive?”

  Dusty shook her head. “No. Atlas was the one who hung back a little and studied me. All the other pups climbed around, sniffing and playing, but not him. He assessed.”

  Viv imagined Atlas as a tiny puppy, studying Dusty with that tilt of his head, as he’d done with her earlier. “He’s careful.”

  “Yes,” Dusty said instantly. “One of the most important things in a bomb dog is focus. They can’t be distracted by other dogs or crowds or stray scents or noises.”

  “How did you know he’d be good at the work?”

  “I visited him every day. I took him out into different environments. One day we went to the mall, another to the train station. Sudden noises didn’t bother him, people rushing by didn’t bother him, other dogs sniffing around didn’t bother him. He looked around, he was interested. But he didn’t get excited, you know? He’s steady.”

  Viv smiled. “Steady. I think I like the sound of that.”

  Dusty pointed a finger. “Are you playing with me?”

  “I might want to at some point,” Viv teased, “but not right now. I really mean it. The steady part appeals.”

  “Why?” Dusty asked.

  Viv sipped her wine. Why. It was a simple question, one so rarely asked. People so rarely listened or really wanted to know what lay beneath the surface. What mattered. “I think because when I was younger, my life was anything but steady. Our whole household was…hectic. There were five of us kids, all pretty close in age, and life was often unpredictable.”

  “Unpredictable?”

  The waitress came by before Viv could answer and they gave her their orders. She was glad for the chance to collect her thoughts and rein in her runaway emotions. She hadn’t expected Dusty to be so perceptive. Her lack of artifice didn’t mask naïveté, but a clear-sighted intuitiveness and sensitivity. She was frighteningly insightful, and Viv ought to feel exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t. Rather, she felt seen, and she liked it.

  Once again, she stepped to the edge.

  “My father was a long-distance trucker, and he was away from home for weeks—sometimes months—at a time. He showed up in the middle of the night and he’d wake us all up, despite our mother telling him to wait till morning. All of us kids were ecstatic to see him—like Christmas morning every time. He had a personality bigger than life and everything was a celebration. He’d bring presents that I didn’t realize at the time he couldn’t really afford. That always created strife with my mother, who struggled to keep the household going while he was gone. Sometimes he’d be on a long-distance haul through Canada to Alaska, and he wouldn’t be home for months. My mother worked two jobs, but sometimes we’d move while he was gone. I always worried he wouldn’t find us.” She sighed. “He always did, until the time he didn’t come back.”

  “What happened?” Dusty asked quietly.

  “I don’t know,” Viv said. “I was fourteen, and he just didn’t come home again. My mother searched, and later, my older brother and sister did too. He just disappeared. I think he decided to unburden himself of a life that wasn’t fun anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dusty said.

  “That was fifteen years ago,” Viv said. “My mother moved on, found a steady guy. I finally had to give up being angry. I’m pretty much over being hurt too.”

  “My parents are farmers,” Dusty said. “My
father inherited the land from his father, who inherited it from his father. My mother is the daughter of the town librarian and never went beyond high school. Town population three thousand. There were sixteen kids in my graduating class. I could’ve been a farmer, but I wanted to be a Secret Service agent.”

  “However did you decide that?” Viv asked.

  “I saw a special on television about the K9 division. As soon as I saw the dogs, I knew that’s what I wanted to do.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Ten.”

  “And you never considered anything else?”

  “Never.”

  “No regrets?”

  “How could there be? I’ve got the best dog in the world, and the best job.”

  Viv laughed. “They knew what they were doing when they picked you for the interview.”

  “Maybe. But I think I’m the one that got lucky.”

  Viv drew a quick breath. “Now who’s flirting?”

  Dusty smiled, pleased. “I guess that would be me.”

  “I guess it’s my turn to tell you something else,” Viv said.

  “No.” Dusty leaned back as the waitress placed the sushi boat on the table. “That was free.”

  “Rain check, then?”

  “Yes.” Dusty brushed her fingers down Viv’s arm. “We’re leaving at midnight so the dogs can clear the landing site. I don’t know when—”

  “I’ll be covering the breakfast speech. After?”

  “Yes,” Dusty said instantly. “I’ll look for you.”

  “I’ll look for you too.”

  *

  Jane stretched out on the single bed in the Motel 6, her fifth cheap, nondescript room in as many days, and turned on the local news. The story about the camp was winding down, with only a twenty-second spot that added nothing to what she already knew. Of course, none of the news was accurate, but at least she knew the intense law-enforcement presence would be dying down.

  Her father had taught her how to hide in plain sight, and no one gave her a second look when she walked to the diner down the road or stopped at a nearby gas station to fill her Jeep and the extra gas cans she kept in the back. Her father had planned well in case they’d need to disappear, and after she’d hiked down the mountain carrying her weapons and the money, she’d collected the vehicle and the IDs from the cache he’d left behind. She had his IDs with her, even though he wouldn’t need them. She had ones for Robbie and Jennifer too, and when the time came for them to disappear again, she’d take care of it. It wouldn’t be long now.

  When the news ended, she called Robbie.

  “Everything all right?” he said instantly.

  “Yes. With you?”

  “No change. We’re set to leave here at four tomorrow, arriving in Chicago around six thirty. He’s got a breakfast conference downtown and then a big ceremony to launch the train.”

  “You have the route?”

  “Yes. I’ll scan it and send it to your phone.”

  “I’ll be heading out in the morning,” Jane said. “Just one matter of business to finish up here.”

  “Don’t take any chances. I don’t want to lose you too.”

  “You won’t lose anyone, I promise.”

  “I know, I know.”

  His anxiety was palpable. He wasn’t a warrior, not like her and Jennifer. He’d always been the one who’d rather stay inside with a book than crawl through the obstacle course her father set up in the woods behind the house, carrying a .22 and shooting at human-shaped targets. He could handle a weapon adequately, but he’d been the obvious choice to infiltrate the communications network. His natural talent for journalism had been a bonus. She trusted him, but he’d never been in the midst of an action before.

  “I’ll text twice a day, twelve-hour intervals. Don’t worry,” Jane said. “You’ll do fine.”

  “You’ve always been most like him, you know.” Robbie sounded both wistful and apologetic.

  Jane blinked at the unexpected moisture blurring her vision for an instant. “Then trust me. We’ll all be fine.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not. Keep me updated on any changes in the itinerary.”

  “See you soon,” Robbie said.

  Jane disconnected and two minutes later the phone buzzed. An instant message appeared with a map showing a blue line connecting Chicago to Flagstaff. Red dots along the way denoted towns where the president would stop. She calculated three days driving eighteen hours a day, and she’d intercept at just the right place. All she needed now was the right weapon.

  Chapter Eight

  Blair said good-bye to her father at the elevator to the second floor of the residence and walked out the west entrance toward the street to catch a cab.

  “Blair!” Cam caught up with her on the sidewalk. “Want some company?”

  “Your kind.” Blair kissed Cam quickly on the cheek, slipped her arm through Cam’s, and snuggled close, looking for warmth in the biting wind but mostly just wanting the pleasure of her hard body up close. “Is this a happy accident?”

  “Ah…not exactly.”

  “Stark called you?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I suppose Dad is in trouble now too?”

  Cam laughed. “You do know it stresses the shift when Eagle goes off the record, right? And both of you…”

  Blair chuckled. “It was only a burger.”

  “Right. A burger that required a motorcade, half a dozen agents tear-assing across town to clear the place before he got there, press corps piling into SUVs and creating havoc in the streets, and probably a dozen more gray hairs on Tom Turner’s head.”

  “Tom doesn’t have any gray.”

  “He will if you keep encouraging your father to go AWOL.”

  “You know he loves it.”

  “I know,” Cam said. “Just promise you won’t do a burger run when we’re out on the campaign trail.”

  “You always said that impromptu public appearances are the safest because no one expects him. It’s not like anyone was waiting at Five Guys for the president to walk in.”

  “That’s true, but you can never be sure that somebody who just happens to be there won’t take it upon themselves to make a move. The only way to be safe is to predict and plan for—”

  “Any contingency.” Blair sighed. “I know. I know you’re right. But I know what it’s like to be caged in. And it’s got to be a lot worse for him.”

  “His choice,” Cam pointed out, not unkindly. “And it’s not about just him. It’s about the office and the—”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Cam slid her arm around Blair’s waist and pulled her under her arm. “I know it wasn’t your doing. Besides, Andrew knows better. But it would be good sometimes if you could talk him out of it. He’s too much of a public president as it is.”

  “It’s important to him, to his image. And it’s really important now. I hate to say it, but I agree with Adam. Part of Dad’s problem has always been his background. He’s an intellectual, he comes from money, he’s seen as part of the elite. He’s not like that at all, but he has to work to appeal to a certain spectrum of the population. A big spectrum.”

  “Agreed. But nothing is worth risking his safety.” Cam kissed Blair’s temple. “Or yours.”

  “All right. I’ll be the grown-up this trip.”

  “Thank you. And I know Tom won’t say anything, but he’ll secretly thank you too.”

  “Are you done for the night, then?”

  “Yes. Wheels up at five. We’ll have to leave for Andrews around four.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “A sandwich in the canteen.”

  “Cam, that’s not food. What about takeout?”

  “I’m okay. You?”

  “Guilty. Two burgers and fries.”

  “I think I might hate you.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Really?” Cam steppe
d off the curb and flagged a cab. As it careened across the lane of traffic toward them she stepped back onto the curb, putting herself between Blair and the road. “How?”

  “I’ll leave that for you to think about.”

  Cam opened the cab door as two black SUVs pulled into line behind the cab. She couldn’t see through the smoked glass but she knew the position of the occupants. Stark rode on the passenger side. Mac Phillips drove. The shift was in the follow car. She’d been aware of them following her and Blair as they’d walked from the White House. Giving in to Blair’s need for a little bit of freedom had meant putting up with cab rides. The shifts didn’t like it, but they liked Blair evading them even less. This way at least they knew where she was, and cabs were another unlikely source of problems. When Stark had called her to tell her Blair insisted on walking partway and catching a cab, Cam had waited for her at the White House so she could walk with her. Stark felt better about that. So did she.

  They settled into the backseat and Cam gave the driver their condo address. Blair curled against her, slid a hand inside her topcoat, and rested it on her abdomen. Cam looped an arm around Blair’s shoulders. Being close to her was the most comforting experience she’d ever known. “I love you.”

  Blair stroked Cam’s middle. “I love you too. Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Just…happy.”

  Blair rubbed her cheek against Cam’s shoulder. “Me too.”

  The cab pulled over, Cam paid the driver, and before they could step out, the SUVs moved in quickly behind them. Three agents jumped out, bracketed the two of them as they got out of the cab, and walked them toward their building. Cam nodded to the agent nearest her. “We’ll be in for the rest of the night.”

  Brock nodded. He’d stand post in the lobby until the next shift arrived. The others would be with the cars until they were ready to leave for Andrews and the trip to Chicago aboard Air Force One. Until then, she and Blair would be alone.

  Once inside the apartment, Cam shed her topcoat and took Blair’s. She hung them both in the closet by the door and took off her blazer. Blair kicked off her shoes and leaned against the back of the sofa that separated the kitchen-dining area from the living area. She braced her arms on either side of her hips and gave Cam an appraising look. Cam unbuckled her belt. Blair’s gaze dropped to her hips as she slid the leather slowly through the loops and draped it over the back of the sofa. Watching Blair watch her, she unbuttoned her shirt, pulled it from her pants, and left it hanging open.