“We need surveillance on an individual we suspect might have ties to a domestic terrorist group that is planning an attack on POTUS.”

None of the agents moved, but the air suddenly vibrated. Evyn’s skin tingled and her heart rate had picked up. Her groin tightened as her senses went to full alert. Wes hadn’t moved either, and she seemed completely composed. Why was she here? This was a security matter.

“We suspect the individual may have access to a biocontagion or may be a contact for someone else who does. This is where Dr. Masters comes in.”

The muscles at the angles of Evyn’s jaws clenched, and she had to force her teeth not to grind. What was this about? Wes wasn’t trained for this.

“The individual in question is Lieutenant Jennifer Pattee, a member of the White House Medical Unit.” Roberts opened her laptop and brought up an image of a woman who looked enough like Jennifer Pattee to be her sister. “We have reason to believe she may have connections to this woman—Angela Jones, although we doubt that’s her given name. Jones is an employee of Eugen Corp, a private laboratory doing viral gene research. They’ve reported an inventory discrepancy in their Level Four lab which we believe may actually be a stolen specimen.”

“The nature of the specimen?” Wes asked.

“Our understanding is it’s an engineered virus—a mutant form of an avian flu virus.”

“What do we know of its properties?”

“Not very much,” Roberts said. “The lead investigators are stonewalling us because their work is preliminary and unreported at this point. They don’t want information being disseminated prematurely, but the transformed avian virus is apparently much more highly transmissible than the natural avian virus.”

“That’s a problem,” Wes said. “The avian flu virus has a high mortality rate, but it is not easily transmissible between fowl and humans, and not transmissible from one human to another.”

Roberts nodded, her expression grave. “They won’t come out and admit to this, but we believe this variant has been aerosolized and is transmissible between humans.”

Wes frowned. “Then you have an agent with the potential to kill vast numbers of individuals.”

Evyn shook her head. “This seems pretty complex for an assassination plot.”

“On the surface, yes,” Roberts said. “There are faster and more direct ways, none of which we need to enumerate here. But while assassination by gunfire is horrifying and dramatic, the public doesn’t see a single act of violence as a personal threat. However, the release of a biological agent capable of killing scores or even more places the danger directly on the public itself. People will be terrified.”

“And consequently,” Paula Stark said softly, “the government will be distrusted and destabilized.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know the lieutenant very well,” Wes said. “I can’t say that I’ve seen any particularly suspicious behavior from her.”

“Nor would we expect you would have.” Roberts clicked off the computer and pushed it aside. She addressed Wes directly. “If what we believe is true, these individuals have been trained since childhood to carry out specific acts of terrorism after achieving positions of power and trust. If indeed the lieutenant is part of this conspiracy, she’s not going to reveal anything or do anything suspect until the attack itself is set in motion.”

“What’s the goal of surveillance?” Evyn asked.

“We need to intercept her when she receives the agent. Failing that, then we have to prevent the release of the contagion.”

“I can adjust our schedules so I’m on duty with Lieutenant Pattee,” Wes said. “Of course, that’s only going to be ten or twelve hours a day.”

“Yes, do that,” Roberts said. “In addition, Captain, given that the lieutenant has expressed a personal interest, you might be able to observe her in less guarded circumstances.”

“What?” Evyn stood before she could stop herself. She looked from Roberts to Wes and then back to Roberts. “The captain isn’t trained for undercover work, which is essentially what you’re asking her to do. Whatever information she might gain isn’t worth the risk to her or the operation—”

“I think I’m perfectly capable of making expert observations,” Wes said calmly, “and would probably recognize conditions or circumstances conducive to exchanging and transporting a biologic agent more readily than anyone else. If it’s a question of asking her out to dinner or spending an evening with her or more, I’m perfectly willing.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Evyn squared her body to Roberts. “You can’t really expect her to do this.”

“Evyn—” Wes said.

“It’s up to the captain, of course,” Roberts said, “but we expect an attack to be imminent, and we need to take advantage of every avenue of information we possibly can. I admit it’s a long shot, but even the remote possibility of picking up information that would help us pinpoint and intercept the individuals involved is worth pursuing.”

Stark asked, “How strong is the connection between the lieutenant and Angela Jones?”

“Loose,” Roberts admitted. “But more than we have been able to find anywhere else. I want Agents Daniels and Block to work together on surveillance. The lieutenant is familiar with PPD, so Agent Daniels’s presence will likely be unnoticed. And Pattee doesn’t know Blair’s agents at all, so Block can take the lead outside official functions. That will allow us to stagger the coverage without putting a larger detail in place. Unfortunately, we’re not sure how deeply we’re compromised.”

Evyn was no longer a suspect, but that knowledge didn’t make her feel better. All she could think about was Wes suddenly in the middle of some crazy extremist conspiracy, without backup.

“Is Wes going to wear a wire?”

“Yes.”

Evyn closed her fist by her side, struggling to keep her voice even. “That’ll help us monitor her. But if she’s discovered with it on, she’ll be an immediate target.”

“You forget, Agent,” Wes said softly, “I earned my rank. I can take care of myself.”

“This isn’t some field hospital, Wes—”

Roberts cut in. “You can leave Captain Masters’s security to me, Agent Daniels. Your job is to keep the lieutenant in your sights whenever she’s in proximity to the president.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Evyn said tightly. As much as she trusted the director—Roberts had proved more than once she was the best—she didn’t plan on leaving Wes’s safety in anyone else’s hands. She kept her mouth shut though—she’d already revealed too much about her personal feelings. “Why isn’t Tom here?”

“Need-to-know,” Cam said quietly.

“I’ll get to work on adjusting the schedule,” Wes said.

“Good. We’ll communicate by phone and text. Stay off the comm channels. Block, your contact is Stark. Agent Daniels, I’m yours.” Cam glanced at Wes. “And yours.”

“Understood,” Wes said.

Cam stood. “Good. Let’s go.”

Evyn held back while others pushed back from the table. “Wes—Captain Masters—a word, please.”

“Of course,” Wes said as the others filed out.

The door closed, leaving them alone, and Evyn stalked around the table. “This is crazy. You know that, right? Jesus Christ, Wes.”

“Evyn, we have jobs to do. There’s no time for this.”

Evyn gripped Wes’s forearm. “Just be sure you observe and nothing else.”

Wes shook her head. “Do you really think I’m in need of protection?”

The metallic taste of fear, foreign and paralyzing, blurred Evyn’s focus. She took a deep breath, then another. “I know you don’t. It’s just—if something happens to you…I can’t go there, okay?”

“Then don’t. Just trust me.” Wes skimmed a fingertip along Evyn’s jaw. “It’s okay. I like that you worry, but you don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

Evyn wanted to grab Wes’s hand and hold it to her, wanted the warm certainty of her touch. She went very still as Wes’s eyes turned that deep green they got when they were alone with nothing between them—no pretense, no fear, no excuses. Deep calm—solid and clear—centered Evyn like no amount of self-imposed control ever had. Last night she’d thought she was losing herself in Wes’s eyes. Now she realized she was finding her true strength. “I’m sorry. I know you can handle this. It’s just—last night. Wes, I thought—”

Wes shook her head. “Evyn, don’t. You don’t need to explain.”

“Yeah—I do. I need you to know—” Evyn shook her head. “We’ve got work—I know it’s not the time.”

“There’s always time if you need me—but I promise you don’t need to worry about this.”

“You’ll be careful?”

“Yes. You too.”

“Always.” Evyn gave her stock answer, only now it wasn’t just a piece of the armor she put on to compete every day in a world where she had to be the best. Now she knew she could feel and still win. “Last night isn’t over. It can’t be over.”

“I don’t want it to be either,” Wes said quietly, “but I don’t want to need what I can’t have.”

“I know I fucked up—”

“I didn’t say that.” Wes smiled wryly. “When this is over, we’ll talk.”

Not what Evyn wanted—not all of what she wanted. But she’d wait. She’d wait, but she wasn’t going to let Wes forget. Or slip away. She kissed her—swift, hard. “I’m not quitting.”

“Do you ever?” Wes asked.

“Never.”

*

Jennifer knocked on Wes’s office door. “Hi. I got your text. I’m fine with the schedule changes.”

“You’ll be short and then doubling up two days in a row.” Wes pulled a file folder over the report she’d been reading.

“Like I said, it’s no problem. This time of year, OT is always welcome.”

“Thanks. Sorry about the late notice. A couple of people have had personal matters come up—it’s the season for it, I guess.”

Jennifer stepped a little farther into the room, her shoulder nudging the door almost closed. “I’m glad for the excuse to spend time with you. It should be pretty quiet.”