Oath of Honor

“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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RADCLYfFE

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.

• 42 •

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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RADCLYfFE

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.