When the action finally ground to a halt, Sky finished her second beer. She’d been nursing it all night and it was warm and flat. She made a face, leaned over the bar, and poured the dregs into the stainless steel sink. “God, that stuff tastes like panther piss.”

Loren slid off the adjacent stool and wrapped her arms around Sky’s waist from behind. Tugging Sky against her chest, she kissed the back of her neck. “I would’ve gotcha something in a bottle if you’d asked.”

Sky turned and draped both arms around Loren’s shoulders. She nibbled on her lower lip. “Do tell. You’ve got what I want in a bottle?”

“Not beer. Something better.”

Sky wrapped one leg around Loren’s and drew her calf slowly up the back of Loren’s thigh until their lower bodies were entwined. Loren’s heat radiated through Sky’s jeans and made her throb. “You’ve been making a lot of promises tonight.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to come through, then.” Loren scanned the room. “Ready to leave?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not getting on that bike at ten below zero. Not even for a promise.”

Loren grinned. “How’d you get here tonight?”

“In a clunker of a rental that at least has something that passes for a heater.”

“Then let’s take that. Unless”—Loren nodded toward the remaining empty overstuffed chair. It listed to one side, and the springs looked as if they were about to explode out of the seat—“you’d rather stay here. You can curl up in my lap.”

Sky considered the tactical aspects of leaving versus staying. If they left, she’d have to negotiate the next step in the plan with Loren, whereas she was right here in the middle of where she wanted to be right now. She could make something happen if she was here, keep on top of events. After all, that’s why she’d come. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be seen.”

Loren grinned. “Won’t hurt my standing with the guys, that’s for sure.”

“God,” Sky muttered. “Fine, as long as it’s your ass on the springs.”

Laughing, Loren took Sky’s hand and pulled her to the far side of the room. She settled into the overstuffed chair and pulled Sky onto her lap.

Sky drew her knees up and curled into Loren’s chest. Loren’s body was hot and hard. She smelled good. Sky nuzzled her face in Loren’s neck and because she wanted to kiss her, and there was no reason not to, she did. Loren murmured low in her throat and ran her hand up Sky’s side and over the curve of her breast. Sky arched and pressed her mouth to Loren’s ear. “I’m not fucking you in front of an audience.”

“They’ve all checked out.”

“Ramsey is somewhere in the back, and he was watching us.”

“Somewhere else, then?”

“Nice try,” Sky whispered. “But if we’re alone, it won’t be necessary.”

“If you keep kissing me, it will.”

“I guess I’ll have to stop, then.”

Loren slid a hand to the back of Sky’s head and held her in place while she explored Sky’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss. When she stopped, she murmured, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“If we’re staying, I’m going to sleep,” Sky said, because what she wanted to do was push her hand under Loren’s shirt and stroke her skin. She wanted Loren’s hands on her, with nothing between them, and the want was too foreign to analyze when she’d been awake for two and a half days and was surrounded by people who might kill her if she slipped. Lust curled in her belly, a hungry hot thing, and she pushed it away. “Sorry to break it to you.”

“I’m patient.” Loren tucked Sky’s head beneath her chin and folded her arms around her. “Go ahead and catch a few. I’ll be here.”

The promise was just a line, but Sky liked the way it sounded. Too much. All the same, she closed her eyes and let herself fall.


*


Cam settled into the aisle seat next to Captain Wes Masters. “Sorry to drag you away at such short notice.”

Wes buckled her seat belt. “No problem. It comes with the job.”

“Settling in okay?”

Wes Masters was the newly appointed chief of the White House Medical Unit—the president’s doctor. She’d come on board the WHMU in the midst of an investigation for the source of a leak somewhere close to the president. Wes and her new lover Secret Service Special Agent Evyn Daniels had been instrumental in Jennifer Pattee’s apprehension. In a few weeks when the president left for his campaign tour, Wes would be by his side the entire time.

“So far,” Wes said, “there’s been nothing about this job that resembles a routine to settle into. But I’m happy to be here.” The plane taxied down the runway at a few minutes past six. Wes lowered her voice despite the revving engines. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”

“I’m not sure. We know the virus was stolen from Eugen, but not the who or the how,” Cam said. “We’ve got an AWOL lab tech named Angela Jones—an alias, I’m sure—and not much else. You might have a better chance than me to spot something that looks wrong.”

Wes said, “I can talk to the team that developed the virus and find out how many people knew about it during the planning stages. This wasn’t accidental or a crime of opportunity. This took time to orchestrate. Whoever stole it knew what they wanted and knew how to handle a Level Four contagion. The inside person was carefully positioned well in advance. We need to know who knew.”

“We’ll find out who had the skill and opportunity to get close to the virus, talk to fellow employees, run traces on employee records.” Cam shrugged. “I suspect they’ll be falsified, but you never know. A smart infiltrator uses part of the truth. Superficial background checks will often pick up those few factual references, and that will be enough to satisfy more employers than you might think. Even federal agencies.”

“We need to be sure there isn’t another batch missing,” Wes said.

“Once we’re on the trail, you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

Wes’s gaze was steady, calm. “I will be.”

Cam would have to trust that Wes and her unit would be able to deal with any emergency because the president wasn’t the only one at risk. Her job was to see Wes was never needed.

Chapter Fourteen


When roll call ended at 0600, Jane followed her father to headquarters and asked permission to speak with him. Graves nodded and walked into his office. Jane handed him a half dozen human-silhouette shaped, time-stamped targets and silently stood at parade rest as he studied the bullet patterns on each one. He didn’t look at her, and she could read nothing in his expression as he scanned first one, then another. After placing the last one face down on his desk, he walked around and sat behind it. “There’s a little drift to the left that you’ll want to attend to, but the head shots are tightly grouped and the body hits focused in the center of body mass. Kill shots, all of them. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Your speed could be better. You’re out of shape.”

“Yes, sir,” Jane said. “I know. I’ll rectify that ASAP, sir.”

“See that you do.” He picked up his phone, punched a number, and said briskly, “As of now, Captain Graves will assume command of C Company. All soldiers billeted on the compound will report to the parade grounds at eleven hundred hours for the change of command.” Graves switched off the phone and dropped it onto his desk. “The order will go out with the other daily briefing reports.”

Pride and satisfaction swelled in Jane’s chest. “I appreciate your faith in me, sir.”

“I expect you won’t disappoint, Captain.”

Jane saluted briskly and swung around toward the door. She’d gone a few steps before her father’s voice brought her to a halt.

“We’ve had some word on your sister.”

Jane whipped around. “Where is she? What can I do?”

“She’s still in DC, and right now, there’s nothing you can do.” Graves thrust his chin forward. “By reports, she’s being held in an extremely well-guarded detention center.”

“Our source is good?”

“Robbie’s sources are excellent. It’s impossible for a bloated bureaucracy like the one in charge of our country to do anything without leaving a trail. Men, weapons, food, money—all must be requisitioned, and everything leaves a fingerprint.” Graves smiled thinly. “Your brother is well positioned and has made many friends. Guards boast. Aides gossip. Clerks speculate on the contents of the paperwork that passes their desks.”

“Can he get a message to her?”

“Not yet. You will best honor your sister by continuing our mission. She has done her part and now it’s time to do ours.”

Jane’s stomach curdled at the thought of Jennifer held captive. Alone. Even though they’d all been alone since they’d been old enough to leave home and actively pursue their parts in their father’s plans. She’d lived alone, slept alone, and prepared alone. But, always, the others were there. She could reach out to them if she needed to. Every few months, she’d even been able to make physical contact with Robbie or Jenn. Her siblings were her fellow soldiers, her life-support system. To have Jenn severed from her now was akin to losing a limb, and she ached for her. Worst were those fleeting moments when she would forget, when she’d still think if she reached out, Jenn would be there. Then the realization flooded back—Jenn had been taken from her—and the pain rekindled like the phantom burn of a missing part, every bit as agonizing. “There must be some way.”

“There might be,” her father said. “What we need is the right kind of leverage.”

She’d learned almost as soon as she could walk that her father’s messages were often cloaked in innuendo and hidden suggestion. He wanted them to think for themselves, to learn to strategize as he did. Now he was waiting for her to make the connections, to put the pieces together. She thought about Jennifer in a cage and forced herself to analyze the problem coolly. What would it take to open the cage door when the jailers had all the power?