Price of Honor

by Radclyffe

  Viv’s heart fluttered in her throat. She was hopeless—she just couldn’t stop flirting with her. Hell, she wasn’t trying to flirt with her, she just wanted to seduce her. And she wanted to know that Dusty was as crazy out of her mind as she was. “I remember every one too. Especially the last one this morning. I’m still recovering.”

  Dusty glanced at her watch. “In about twenty-five minutes I’ll go to work, and I’m not gonna think about kissing you until we’re back on the train and Atlas is in his crate taking a snooze.”

  “Good, I don’t want you to.”

  “I’m not quite finished,” Dusty said in a tone of voice Viv hadn’t heard before.

  Strong and certain. Commanding. The fluttering in Viv’s chest flamed into her throat.

  “The minute he’s squared away, I’m going to find you, and the next minute I want more kisses…more of everything.”

  More of everything. Yes. So did she. Viv grasped at reason. “I know this sounds completely ridiculous seeing how I’ve been thinking of nothing else myself, but I don’t usually move so fast.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “No! It’s not. No. I mean, most definitely a yes.” Viv’s face heated. “I just want you to know this is different…I’m not usually like this with women.”

  “I don’t care about before or other women,” Dusty said. “I don’t just think about seeing you tonight, I think about seeing you tomorrow, and tomorrow after that.”

  “Dusty,” Viv said softly.

  “I know. I know it’s not supposed to be that way and that’s okay, I’m just telling you how I feel.”

  “You’re making me very, very crazy.”

  “And that’s bad, right?”

  Viv laughed. “Oh no. It’s really, really good.”

  *

  A Stop along the Way

  Hospitals were the hardest. She did them all the time, because hospitals were part of larger organizations, often with patrons who were big donors, and because the patients loved the visits. The children’s hospitals were the hardest. So much sadness mixed in with the triumphs. Her heart broke a little every time. Thankfully, this was the only hospital visit on the schedule, and she was almost through. Having Cam with her helped.

  She’d been reading a story to a dozen children in the pediatric oncology ward for the last twenty minutes, while Cam sat nearby with a couple of kids balanced on her knee and the rest scattered around them on big pillows and little chairs with their IV poles and their plastic bags filled with poisons designed to kill the killer inside them. She finished the story and closed the book.

  Several children cheered, and those who could clapped.

  “You’ve all been terrific. My best audience ever!” Blair handed the book to one of the nurses and rose. “Thank you so much for letting me visit.”

  The children waved, a few touched her hand, and they all called good-bye. She slid her hand through the curve of Cam’s arm. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  The hospital administrator, a husky blond with a too-tight suit shiny at the knees, walked them out as Stark and Mac Phillips fell in behind them. He made the usual platitudes about how happy he was they had visited and how sure he was that the board would remember her father’s generosity in sponsoring the fund-raiser designed to help build a new wing, and all the usual politically appropriate things.

  Blair shook his hand. “Thank you for having me. Please tell your board my father supports the kind of health care reform that allows our hospitals to grow and provide the best care possible.”

  “Of course. Wonderful to have you and your…uh…” He glanced at Cam and flushed.

  “Spouse,” Blair said helpfully.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we’re very glad to have you.”

  “Our pleasure.” Blair turned to the elevator where Secret Service Agent Felicia Adams, tall and elegant as an Egyptian queen come to life, held the door open. As soon as she was inside and the door slid closed, she let out a long sigh. “I am ready for two hours of absolute silence.”

  Cam laughed and squeezed her hand. “They were a bit vociferous.”

  “I guess that’s better than them being too sick to enjoy it.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. Hospitals. She hated them. She had since those last months when her mother had spent more time in one than out, and finally had entered never to return.

  The elevator bumped to a stop and Felicia straightened, squinting at the numbers above the door. They were between the first floor and the garage level and not moving.

  “We’ve got a situation in the elevator,” Felicia said into her wrist com. “Stopped between floors. Brock?”

  Cam looked up at the ceiling, frowning.

  “What?” Blair asked.

  “Nothing,” Cam said. “I just wanted to make sure I couldn’t hear anything above us. Probably the electronics misreading the sensors. It’ll probably start up again in a second.”

  “Brock’s downstairs,” Felicia said. “Everything’s clear there. Just hold on.” She opened the control box, inserted a key, and punched G. After a second the elevator started up again, and a minute later they settled and the doors opened.

  “Just wait a moment,” Cam murmured, sliding her hand inside her topcoat.

  Brock appeared in front of the door. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes,” Felicia said. “Just a little glitch with the electronics.”

  “This way, then.” He gestured for Blair and Cam to follow him, and three more agents converged on their small party, heading for their SUV. A K9 agent with a gorgeous dog wearing a vest with the USSS K9 emblem on it walked along beside the line of SUVs, accompanied by a brunette Blair recognized. One of the reporters, but she couldn’t recall her name.

  When the reporter saw them coming, she stopped and smiled warmly as Blair passed. “Congratulations, Ms. Powell, Director Roberts. I missed the wedding, but I heard it was wonderful.”

  Blair paused. She was used to reporters calling questions to her about the marriage, but she couldn’t think of one who’d congratulated her. “Thank you.” She nodded toward the agent with the dog. “Interviewing for a new job?”

  “Not just yet,” the brunette said. “Research. An article on the K9 division.”

  “Terrific idea. They’re amazing—the dogs and the people.”

  “I know. I’m Vivian Elliott. Washington Gazette.”

  “Nice to meet you, Vivian. You’ll have to let me know when it’s coming out. I’d love to read it.”

  “Actually, would you mind talking with me a few minutes about it?” Viv asked quickly. “Ten minutes, whenever you’ve got a chance. Your view of the division would be a great addition.”

  “Of course. We’ll have plenty of time between now and the end of the line.”

  “Great,” Viv said. “Who should I contact to schedule?”

  Blair laughed. “That would be me. Give me your number and I’ll text you.”

  Blair handed over her phone, and Viv punched in her number, then handed it back.

  “Thank you so much,” Viv said, stepping back. “Looking forward to it.”

  Mac opened the rear door of the SUV, and Blair waved. “I’ll be in touch. Thanks again.”

  The SUV pulled out and Cam said quietly, “How are you doing?”

  “How much longer is this trip?” Blair asked.

  “You were great. It will be over soon.”

  Blair counted the days in her head. Less than a week to go, and only a dozen appearances. She’d survive. She took Cam’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Cam slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Where else would I be?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Outside Colorado Springs

  “Well?” Jane asked as Hooker slid into the front seat, bringing a gust of cold air and blowing snow with him. She’d spent the last ten minutes sitting outside a gas station with pumps that didn’t look like they’d been updated in thirty years while Hooker
used one of those pay phones clamped to a metal pole, the kind she hadn’t seen anywhere since she was a kid, at the side of a squat building with no lights showing. She couldn’t argue with him not using a cell phone, especially when she didn’t know anything about his contacts. For all she knew, Hooker’s friends could be under surveillance by local law enforcement or even the feds. But she didn’t have a choice. She had to use what she had, and right now, that was Hooker.

  “We’re all set,” Hooker said, stomping snow off his boots onto the rubber mat in the wheel well. “Fourteen hundred hours.”

  “Where?”

  “A warehouse just outside the city limits. I’ve got directions.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “Nobody. It’s abandoned, but my friends have liberated it and given it a new life.”

  Jane snorted and punched the FedEx address into her nav con.

  Hooker frowned at the screen. “Expecting something?”

  She didn’t bother to answer and they rode in silence through the snow. By the time she navigated across town, it was after noon. She pulled into the small lot in front of the FedEx office, turned off the ignition, and left him sitting in the front seat. She showed ID, collected her packages, stowed them carefully in the cargo area, and pulled out again in under five minutes.

  “So?” Hooker asked. “You gonna tell me what’s in there?”

  Jane laughed. “No.”

  “I can see it’s from Amazon. What’d you order? New clothes?”

  She said nothing.

  “You know, if you let me in on your plans, I could be more useful.”

  “I already told you. I don’t need a partner.”

  “Sure you do. Didn’t your father teach you the importance of backup on a risky op?”

  Fury rose through her, swift and hot as a knife plunged into her belly. “Don’t pretend you know anything about my father.”

  “Lucky guess, then, but I’m right, aren’t I? This is all about your sister, right? You think you can spring her?”

  “You don’t know anything about me. And you’re never going to.”

  “Look,” Hooker said reasonably. “We’re out here in the ass-end of nowhere in the middle of winter. Not exactly a great time for an operation. Targets are scarce. Except that right about now, the presidential train is headed our way. It doesn’t take a college education to do the math.”

  Jane pulled into the drive-thru at McDonald’s and slowed at the kiosk. She ordered enough for two meals for each of them in case dinner wasn’t on the horizon.

  Hooker kept talking as if she’d actually answered him. “Getting to him isn’t impossible, but almost. You need inside help and a lot of planning. Flying by the seat of your pants can get you ki—”

  Jane rolled down her window to hand over the money and collect their food. Hooker actually shut up for one minute. She pulled into a space across from the drive-thru, put the vehicle in park, and kept the heater running. Damn, she was tired of being cold. She reached into the bag and pulled out a hamburger and fries. “You can eat or not eat. Your choice. Once the deal is done this afternoon, we part ways.”

  “You’ll need backup.” Hooker stuck a hand into the bag and pulled out a red cardboard box of fries. “I already know enough to guess what you’re doing, so why not take advantage?”

  “Because I don’t trust you.”

  Hooker munched a french fry. “Why not? Because I’m a merc?”

  “That, and because you’re working for Russo.”

  “Did work for him.” He pulled out a cheeseburger and unwrapped it. “I’m not gonna have a job after this. Russo sent me after the money, and since you’re busy spending it and I’m getting a cut, that’s not gonna happen.”

  “That’s my point,” Jane said. “You have no loyalty.”

  “Not strictly true.” Hooker lifted a shoulder. “I’m loyal until the job is done. And to prove it”—he took a bite of his cheeseburger, took his time chewing, and swallowed—“I’ll let you in on something you don’t know.”

  Jane sighed and put her wrappers into the bag. “I’m all ears.”

  “Russo tipped off one of the deputies in the sheriff’s department about your meet with the Renegades. Only he screwed with the details a bit. The Renegades thought you were gonna try to take them out. That’s what started the whole firefight that ended up getting your old man killed.”

  The fury burning in Jane’s chest exploded behind her eyes. Her vision went red until she blinked it clear. “Russo. He double-crossed us.”

  “And that’s loyalty for you.” Hooker reached into the bag for another cheeseburger. “Fifty-fifty split and I’m yours till the job is done.”

  “Let’s go see your friends,” Jane said. “Then we’ll talk.”

  *

  Franklin paced restlessly in front of the french doors leading onto the deck outside the cabin’s great room while Nora disconnected her call and made notes on her tablet. A fire burned in the huge stone fireplace. Snow fell, obscuring the road up the mountainside, isolating them in his mountain retreat. Any other time he would have welcomed the time away from prying eyes, but he couldn’t relax.

  He’d have to go home soon or fabricate some excuse for his wife. Maintaining the charade of his marriage was important. Preserving some semblance of her happiness was insurance. He doubted that she’d ever think of leaving him. She didn’t have the spine for it, and the pills and alcohol kept her mind too clouded to conceive of any other life. But her family still controlled a large part of her wealth, and he couldn’t afford to lose that pipeline if they decided she was better off without him. Derek would chafe at his absence as well. And if he stayed another night here with Nora, he wasn’t sure he could keep up with the physical demands. His cock barely twitched at the idea of fucking her anytime soon. Her appetites were fed by challenge, and going head-to-head with Powell was a big challenge. He turned when he felt her behind him. “Well?”

  “I’ve got you lined up for a town meeting, a banquet with the Midwest Farm Consortium, and giving the keynote speech at the United Cattlemen’s annual meeting.” Nora stretched, showing her teeth in a satisfied smile. If she’d been a big cat, she’d have blood on her canines. Her breasts, unfettered by a bra, pressed against her silk blouse, her nipples puckered beneath the material. Her eyes glinted, feral and hungry. “Satisfied?”

  “Of course. You always satisfy.”

  She laughed and stroked his stomach. “I haven’t told you the best part yet.”

  He tensed when she reached for his belt. “What would that be?”

  “The kickoff for the cattlemen will be an outdoor auction opposite Powell’s grandstand final stop in Flagstaff.” She loosened his belt. “He’s got a parade and a speech planned in the plaza.”

  “Head-to-head with him.” Franklin laughed, and damn if his cock didn’t start to get hard. “You’re perfect.”

  She opened his pants, reached inside, and knelt in front of him. “Aren’t I.”

  *

  Jane pulled around behind the warehouse and parked. A black Hummer was the only other vehicle in sight. She glanced at Hooker. “Really? Couldn’t they be less obvious?”

  “Hey.” He spread his hands. “You didn’t give me a lot of time to set things up. What you’re looking for isn’t exactly common street merchandise.”

  “If this is a trap, you’ll be the first to go down.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “How do you know the DEA or ATF isn’t on to these people and just waiting for the meet to take us all at once?”

  “I don’t.”

  Jane studied him for a long moment. “That might be the first truthful thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  He shook his head. “I told you about Russo. There was no percentage in that for me.”

  He wasn’t lying about that either. She pulled her Glock out of her coat pocket, checked the magazine, and jacked a cartridge into the chamber. “Let’s go. We’re here. We’re doing it.”<
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  Hooker pulled his automatic from his waistband, checked it, and slid it into the front pocket of his coat. “You have the thirty grand they want?”

  “Yes, and I plan to give it to them. A straightforward exchange and we’re out of there. Ten minutes and then I’m gone.”

  “Nice and smooth,” Hooker agreed.

  The hairs on the back of Jane’s neck stood up as they walked toward the gray metal door leading into the warehouse. If this was a trap, she was making it easy for whoever waited inside. She didn’t have a choice. If she couldn’t get the explosives, her last best chance at forcing Andrew Powell to free her sister was gone. If Hooker had double-crossed her, she’d probably die before the next ten minutes were up. If federal agents had these people under surveillance and a firefight broke out, she wouldn’t let herself be taken. Either way, this might be the end of the road. Strangely, she felt nothing. Only the kind of wariness she always felt going into a fight. The fear of death was something she’d lost along with her childhood. Hooker looked relaxed, and she wondered if he thought about death. “Do you feel anything?”

  “No.” He hesitated. “Actually, that’s not true. Times like this are the only time I do feel anything.”

  Another truth. “Keep your eyes open. I’m not in the mood to die today.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The interior of the warehouse was dark and dank and lit only by a few bare bulbs high up in the rafters. Jane and Hooker walked slowly forward on a cracked, grease-stained concrete floor. Two people stepped out of the shadows. One was a woman, tall and blocky in a heavy winter coat, tight jeans, and combat boots. Her blond hair was layered to collar length, her eyes sharp and appraising. A man stood just behind her left shoulder: the muscle. Brutish looking, with a broad boxer’s face that was scarred and pitted, close-cropped black hair, and a heavy merciless jaw. He held an assault rifle across his chest.

  “I thought this was a friendly meet,” Jane said flatly, stopping at the edge of the faint circle of light.