“I appreciate your faith in me, sir, but ID’ing an UNSUB who’s been part of a sleeper cell for decades is a long and often fruitless process.” Cam glanced at Lucinda, looking for an ally. This was when she hated politics the most, when reason fell before appearances. Her job was to keep the country, and especially the president, safe. That was the charge she’d been tasked with, presumably because they believed she was the best person for the job, but no one seemed to like her doing it.

“Andrew,” Lucinda said evenly, “in this case, I have to agree with Cam. The facts support our suspicions that at least one other person was involved in the aborted attempt on your life, and given the possibility of a deeply buried operative, you’re much too exposed here.”

Andrew, despite his casual khakis and hunter-green pullover sweater, looked as presidential as ever, his expression one Cam had seen many times before in all kinds of crisis situations: determined, decided, unswayable. She knew his answer before he spoke.

“I’m even more protected here than in DC,” Andrew said. “Physical access to my location is limited, we have excellent security in and around the train, and everyone aboard has sound security clearance.” He smiled at Lucinda, a smile that held a hint of apology that Cam had never seen in public, but one she recognized. She probably looked a lot like that herself when she disagreed with Blair and knew it would make her unhappy.

“It’s not as if I can stop making public appearances,” Andrew said, still facing Lucinda. “The risk factors are no worse here than anywhere.” He turned to Cam. “No. The trip continues.”

Lucinda sighed. “I can’t disagree with his logic, at least about the degree of security here. Is there any more we can do until this trip is over?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cam said. “Tom will move all the security teams into high-alert status. We’ll rerun probabilities and make sure everyone is ready to deal with the unexpected.”

“Well, then,” Andrew said. “That’s settled.”

Cam waited for the president to rise and then stood. “Good night, sir.”

“Cam,” Andrew said. “Be sure Blair doesn’t take any chances. She’s as much a target as I am. And you too. Everyone I love is a target.”

“Blair will be fine, sir. I’ll see to that.”

Andrew nodded. “I’m sure of it. Good night.”

Cam joined Tom in the adjoining lounge, shaking her head as he looked up. “What we expected. The show goes on. We need another briefing update. Thirty minutes.”

“I’ll gather the crew chiefs.”

“Good. I’ll meet you in the command car.” Cam made her way back to her cabin and let herself in.

Blair sat propped up on the bunk in a T-shirt and panties, a blanket over her bare thighs. She put her reader aside. “Are we going to get off this blasted train?”

“How did you know that’s what I’d recommend?” Cam shrugged out of her blazer but kept her weapon harness on. She opened a bottle of water and drained half of it. The cool liquid did nothing to quench the rage burning in the back of her throat.

“Even if you don’t think the third sibling is on this train, the smallest possibility would be enough for you to want my father off it. I take it he didn’t agree.”

Cam blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over her face. “Of course he didn’t. When have any of the Powells ever been reasonable when it comes to security?”

Blair smiled, pushed the blanket aside, and stood. She threaded her arms behind Cam’s neck and rubbed the tense muscles in her shoulders. “I know we’re a terrible chore.”

Cam groaned and pulled her close. “The worst.”

Blair pressed her cheek to Cam’s chest and worked her fingers into the knots along Cam’s spine. “How serious do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, and that really bothers me. It’s just a feeling that something’s off. I’ve had it the whole time. Stark and Tom too.”

“Your feelings have always been deadly accurate. Trust them. I always have.”

Cam sifted the soft strands of Blair’s golden hair through her fingers. Just holding her close steadied her, and most of her frustration drained away. “We’ll have every possibility covered, I promise you that.”

“Then no one could do more.” Blair tugged Cam’s head down and kissed her. “Don’t stay up all night. We’ve still got a long trip ahead, and you need to be sharp.”

“I’ll be back as soon as the briefing is done.”

“I’ll be awake.”

“Blair, make sure you don’t go anywhere without your security detail.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be careful. I want you focused on taking care of my father.”

“I will be, I swear.” Cam brushed her fingers through Blair’s hair and kissed her again. “I need you to be safe.”

“Ditto for me. So we’ll be careful for each other, all right?”

Cam held her tightly. “That’s a deal, baby.”

Chapter Twenty-three

An hour before dawn, Jane turned off the narrow county road and onto the highway that had once been the old Santa Fe Trail. She drove for another hour, heading southeast toward Trinidad, passing a lone eighteen-wheeler whose lights appeared like UFOs out of the white curtain of snow, bearing down on them and then disappearing into the storm. The latest weather report said a break in the snowfall was expected near dawn, and already the visibility was improving. By daybreak, she’d have enough light for the mission.

Hooker dozed with his head leaning against the window. He’d spelled her for four hours, and she’d napped long enough to feel alert and sharp now. Pre-mission adrenaline pulsed through her blood. This time tomorrow it would all be over. Hooker was right, but she’d never tell him that. The mission was likely a suicide run, but every soldier needed to be prepared for death every time they deployed. She wasn’t afraid of dying, only of failing. Jenn depended on her, and Robbie was at risk. And she was head of the family now.

Following the route she’d mapped out on the nav con, she left the highway on a single track and climbed into the low foothills of the Rockies. During tourist season the winding road was heavily traveled, but only the few locals living in scattered pockets in the foothills risked it now. She shook open a topo map, laid it across her lap, and flicked on the map light. When she stopped at an overlook, she left the headlights on and looked down at the train tracks a mile below with a swell of satisfaction.

Hooker leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and grunted. “I didn’t think Amazon was selling surface-to-surface missiles. And unless you’ve got an SSM in those boxes back there, you’ll never hit a train from up here.”

“I don’t want to hit it,” Jane said. “I want to stop it.”

Between their position and the tracks, rocky snow-covered outcroppings littered the terrain. The hike down would be a challenge, but anything would be better than being cooped up in the vehicle for much longer. The welcome frisson of excitement in her belly burned brighter. After hours of driving, days of planning, she was finally going to be able to act.

“What about me?” Hooker asked.

“Your job is to secure the vehicle. All you need to know is the time and location of the rendezvous point.” She wasn’t convinced he’d wait for her to show up, but trusting him was a better option than her original plan of abandoning the Jeep up some snowed-in ravine. She couldn’t drive out of here. The feds would have birds in the air if the storm held off, and roadblocks everywhere.

“I could be more useful if you gave me a few more details.” He looked over his shoulder. “Like what you’ve got in the boxes.”

“First we brief the op.”

Jane climbed out, opened the back of the Jeep, and pulled out one of her knapsacks. She returned to the driver’s seat, opened it, and passed Hooker a radio.

“We’ll be on Channel One.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“About a hundred yards down the slope.” Jane gestured down the mountainside. She handed him a handful of MREs, broke one open for herself, and stuffed half a dozen in her jacket. She wasn’t hungry, but she’d need fuel for what was coming.

“How do you plan on getting at the train?”

Jane pulled out her SAT phone from the bag, powered it up, and searched for a signal. When she had it, she linked into her cell phone and searched for the train’s location. The White House website hadn’t been updated for a couple of hours, but the last blinking red dot indicating the train’s progress put her two hours ahead of the train’s arrival. Two hours would be plenty of time.

“I’m going to call them on the phone,” she said.

“And you think they’re gonna slow down if you make a threat?” Hooker grunted again. “You think they’re not prepared for that? They’ll blast through here so fast you won’t have a chance to hit them, no matter what kind of firepower you got.”

“I told you, I don’t plan on hitting them. I plan on talking to the president and making a deal.” Jane reached behind her and pulled forward one of the boxes she’d picked up at the FedEx office. She slid her utility knife off her belt, cut the tape, and opened the flaps.

Hooker peered in. “What the hell is that?”

Jane smiled. “That is our negotiating power.”

*

Dusty dozed in Viv’s cabin, naked beneath the light blanket, Viv curled around her. She didn’t sleep deeply under most circumstances, and she hadn’t wanted to, especially tonight. The newness of sleeping with another person would have been enough to keep her awake, but lying next to Viv kept her too excited to want to sleep. Their bodies fit in a way she’d never imagined possible. Viv’s hand rested between her breasts, a gentle, possessive weight that made her feel like she belonged in this place, with this woman, in a way she’d never belonged anywhere before. Viv’s leg rested across her thighs, Viv’s breath wafted across her throat, warm and sweet. Dusty stroked Viv’s hair, mesmerized by the softness. If she could stay here, just like this forever, she’d be happy. All she needed was Atlas snoozing by the door to make the picture complete. She laughed, hardly recognizing herself. Foolish fantasies were never part of her imaginings.