Oath of Honor

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

careful around her. “My father’s ATF, my aunt’s IRS, my younger

brother’s ICE, and the next oldest went army. We’ve got a few more

agencies covered with the cousins.”

“That’s a heavy legacy to inherit.”

“Not so much.” Evyn shrugged and turned onto Pennsylvania

Avenue, passing by the House, leaving the glowing lights behind,

and headed north toward Dupont Circle. The streets were dark, nearly

deserted. “Wasn’t hard for me—I always knew what I wanted to do.”

“And you love it.”

“Yeah I do, except—”

“—for the cold.”

Laughing, Evyn looked over and tripped into Wes’s eyes. Under

the streetlights, the green of her eyes darkened to the deep hues of a

hidden glade in the heart of the forest. Splinters of moonlight carved

out the elegant arch of her cheekbones and pooled in the hollow of her

throat. Jesus. She was beautiful. Fixing back on the street, she said

tightly, “You want fancy, or plain, simple, and good?”

“I don’t need frills,” Wes said. “But good, yeah. That matters.”

“Not one for show, is that it?” Casual, she could do casual. And

distant. She needed distance. She had to train her, for Chrissake, and

don’t forget Peter. What the fuck was wrong with her?

“The only thing I care about,” Wes said as Evyn turned up

Connecticut, “is getting the job done.”

“So how come you’re teaching and not…you know, doing?” When

silence ensued, she glanced over and figured from the rigid set of Wes’s

jaw she probably could have phrased that a little more diplomatically.

Well, she’d wanted distance. Now she had it. How come it didn’t feel

so good? “Sorry. I take it that was an insult of some kind?”

• 47 •

RADCLYfFE

Wes blew out a breath and eased back in her seat. “No, it’s not

an insult. I’m not ashamed to spend most of my time teaching. I do

my share in covering the ER in rotation, but I have a certain knack

for teaching and I like it. The way things have been going the last few

years, more troops see combat. War has changed. New weapons and

new ways of fighting mean new types of injuries. If our medics aren’t

fully prepared for the kinds of battlefield causalities they’ll face, troops

die. I figure this is the best way for me to see that doesn’t happen.”

“I get that,” Evyn said softly.

“What you do is totally different,” Wes said. “For you, it’s a lot

more personal.”

“Personal?” Evyn gripped the wheel harder, uncomfortable with

the shift of focus back to her. Her hold on the whole night was slipping.

She should be on her way home to Alexandria to get some much-

needed sleep. Or maybe she just needed some human contact of the

sexual variety—too late for a club, but she still had a few women in her

little black book who would take her call no matter how late. Instead

of either safe option, she was on her way out to eat with a woman who

lured her into unfamiliar territory so smoothly she never noticed until

she was floundering for direction. “I, ah, don’t know about personal.

I’m doing my job. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

“True,” Wes said, “but what you do in a split second has an

immediate and critical impact. Whatever effect I might have is at a

distance…months, possibly years later…when a young medical student

or resident saves a life because of something I taught them.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Evyn couldn’t help asking, although

she knew she should be searching for some vacuous topic like the

Redskins’ standing in the playoffs. She pulled to the curb in front of

Circa and swiveled on the seat to face Wes across the narrow divide.

“Just taking on faith that down the line, somewhere, sometime…?”

“For me, it’s the long game. I’m not looking for immediate

gratification.”

“Yeah, well.” Evyn cut the engine. “I don’t look much past the

moment. Not in my nature.”

“I guess that makes us different,” Wes said quietly.

“Like night and day.”

• 48 •

Oath Of hOnOr

chapter six

Senator Franklin Russo glanced at the brass clock on his desk.

Nine p.m. Headlights flickered through the trees along the

approach road to his Idaho mountain retreat, alerting him to a vehicle

arriving. Hooker was punctual. He expected that of those who worked

for him. That and absolute, unquestioning loyalty.

The doorbell rang and a moment later a soft knock sounded on his

study door.

“Come in.”

The door swung open, and his personal aide Derek Sullivan, a

thin young blond in khaki pants and a starched striped shirt, said, “Mr.

Hooker is here, sir.”

“Good. Have him come in.”

A heavyset middle-aged man with a thick brown mustache flecked

with gray strode in. His snow-crusted work boots left muddy streaks on