Oath of Honor

“Sure.” Evyn dropped her coat onto a chair and tossed the empty

paper cup into a nearby wastebasket. Gary hesitated, glanced at Tom,

and followed the rest out, muttering, “Catch you later,” as he left.

When the room was empty, Tom closed the door and gestured for

her to sit.

Her antennae went up. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done

that could be problematic. She wasn’t the most senior member of PPD,

but over the last year she’d sort of become Tom’s unofficial sounding

board. She’d sat in the right front seat of the follow-up car a time

or two, and had taken the lead when POTUS traveled. That level of

responsibility told her she was doing okay, or at least she thought she

had been. She waited for Tom to start, banishing a mild case of nerves,

a wholly atypical reaction for her.

“Are you set to bring Masters up to speed?” Tom sat across from

her and leaned back in his chair.

“She’s still clearing security but should be done sometime today.

I’ll meet with her later and set up a schedule.” Evyn’s pulse jittered at

the mention of Wes’s name, also unusual. She rarely showed a bump in

her blood pressure or her pulse, even during simulated actions. She’d

been preparing for this job since she was a kid, and she’d taught herself

not to react when something hurt, or scared her, or excited her. She kept

her cool. She wanted to be ice in an emergency. She usually was. But

just a reference to Wes Masters had her composure melting around the

edges. That couldn’t be good. She needed to clamp a lid on that.

“I had a call from Averill Jensen before the briefing this morning,”

Tom said.

Evyn tensed at the mention of the president’s security adviser.

The USSS answered only to the Director of Homeland Security—on

paper—but Jensen had sweeping authority in security matters. “About

We—Captain Masters?”

“Indirectly.”

Evyn couldn’t believe there was an issue with Wes Masters. She’d

only just met Wes, but she’d spent time with her, more personal time

than she’d spent with anyone in years, except the agents who’d just left

• 67 •

RADCLYfFE

this room. And they hadn’t just talked about business. They’d talked

about life. Wes was solid. She was dedicated and focused, all the way

through. Evyn clamped her molars together and kept her mouth shut.

She needed to listen, and to do her job. Right now, the best thing she

could do for Wes Masters was find out what the hell was going on.

“They went outside to bring her in,” Tom said, “and on the face of

it, that’s not that unusual. What’s unusual is that with O’Shaughnessy’s

sudden death, they didn’t move someone up from inside as interim

director while they put the nominees through the selection process.”

“I know.” Just a few hours with Wes had blunted some of Evyn’s

anger that Peter had been passed over, but she still didn’t think it was

right. Wes wasn’t at fault for that, at least not as far as she knew. “Did

somebody pull strings to get her appointed? Pressure someone? Is that

it?” “No.” Tom’s smooth brow wrinkled, which for him was akin to

shouting. He was the epitome of control. He just didn’t get rattled,

especially if he was angry or frustrated. Something serious was going

on if Tom was unsettled. “Masters was brought in because she’s a

qualified outsider. There seems to be some concern that we have a leak

inside.”

“A leak?” Evyn took a second to let that sink in. “You mean

someone in the House is passing information?”

“Communications analysts have been pulling snippets from

surveillance tapes—routine Internet sweeps—that suggest potentially

hostile groups might know plans we haven’t made public.”

“Jesus,” Evyn said. “And they think it’s in the medical unit?”

“They don’t know—could be anywhere—the medical unit, the

West Wing, our group—”

“Us? Oh, come on, that’s just not possible. At the very least,

someone is talking who shouldn’t be because they’re damn idiots—

which excludes all of us. Worst-case scenario, someone is working with

domestic or foreign hostiles. And that sure as hell isn’t one of us.”

Tom stared at her. “You believe it and I believe it, but that doesn’t

mean everyone else does. Let’s not forget Robert Hanssen. He went

undetected for decades.”

“We’re not the FBI,” Evyn said dismissively. You believe it and I

believe it… “Wait a minute. You’re not saying that Wes—Dr. Masters

is looking at us?” Was that what prompted the dinner invitation and the

• 68 •

Oath Of hOnOr

prolonged after-dinner conversation? She remembered every word that

had passed between them, and she couldn’t remember Wes bringing

up anything probative. All the same, the invitation had come out of

nowhere. Her heart plummeted. “Hell.”

“I doubt that—not her job description. All the same, we can’t really

be sure what we haven’t been told.” He grimaced, clearly not happy.

“Given the threat level, Masters has to be aware of the situation.”

“Well, we better be sure she’s ready to carry the ball,” Evyn said.