down to business.
“Good. That’s really the last of the formal security items.” She
shrugged. “Protocol only. Your record has already been reviewed.”
Wes said nothing. She wouldn’t be sitting there if her service
record and probably everything that came in her life before that hadn’t
already been scrutinized in intimate detail. Pro forma.
“Have any questions?”
“No, ma’am.”
Lucinda smiled. “I am not in the military, so you can dispense with
the formalities. And feel free to speak. None of this is on the record.”
“May I ask how I came to be considered for the position?”
“Of course.” Lucinda gestured to a coffee urn and a row of plain
white mugs sitting on a linen-draped sideboard. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
While Lucinda poured, she talked. “Obviously, Dr.
O’Shaughnessy’s death was unexpected. The position is a critical
one, and with POTUS about to embark on a series of national and
international movements, we need the White House Medical Unit to
be at full staff.”
“I understand.” Wes waited for the rest of the story. The White
House medical staff usually came from the military, and there were
plenty of military physicians available. But she’d been short-listed. Not
just short-listed but fast-tracked.
Lucinda handed her a cup of coffee and angled the adjacent chair
to face Wes. When she sat, their knees were a few inches apart. “As you
can imagine,” Lucinda said calmly, “an election year is a volatile time
for the nation and disruptive to both parties. Emotions run high.”
“If there’s something I need to know about the president’s health,
I assume it will be in his records, but if not, then I need to know…off
the record.”
Lucinda’s eyes glinted as if she was pleased with Wes’s statement.
• 62 •
Oath Of hOnOr
“This isn’t television. There’s nothing we’re hiding about the president’s
health. He has some food allergies which you will note in his chart,
an old ligamentous injury to his right knee, and some annoying, but
I’m told not dangerous, floaters in his right eye. Other than that, he is
remarkably fit and healthy.”
“Excellent. I will be reviewing his records today.”
“We have excellent security,” Lucinda went on, “and the president
and I have total faith in his detail. In an election year, we always see an
escalation in death threats.”
Wes nodded. “I’ll need to know the nature of the threats, the
analysis of the threat level, and what the Secret Service containment
policies are.”
“You see,” Lucinda said, smiling more broadly now, “you’ve
just proved my point. We need someone in charge who knows how to
approach these kinds of issues in a scientific fashion.”
“Any physician should be able—”
“But not with the facility of someone whose job it has been to
set up treatment, triage, and interventional protocols under battlefield
conditions. That is a fairly unique skill.”
“Do you expect an attack on POTUS?”
Lucinda sipped her coffee and finally said softly, “It isn’t a question
of if the president will be attacked, but when. That is the presumption
we all work under, Captain Masters. As long as we believe that, we will
be prepared for anything.”
“I understand.” Wes decided to push her luck. “And the current
staff? Isn’t it customary to advance members from within?”
Lucinda shrugged. “There is nothing customary in the White
House, Captain. The guard changes every four to eight years, and many
of the personnel change at the same time. The rules, if there are any,
are almost totally dependent upon who occupies these rooms.” Lucinda
regarded her for a long moment, and Wes sat under her dissecting gaze
calmly. “The White House Military Office is your counterpart, and they
felt no internal candidate was qualified for the unique demands of this
position at this point in time.”
“I can assure you, Ms. Washburn,” Wes said, “I am prepared.”
“I’m very, very glad to hear that.” Lucinda set her cup aside, and
her expression took on the kind of intense focus Wes recognized from
the field when an engagement was imminent.
• 63 •
RADCLY fFE
Lucinda Washburn was about to tell her the real reason she’d been
hired. Everything else was reasonable, but that about-to-do-battle glint
in Lucinda’s eyes said there was more.
“Need-to-know, Captain,” Lucinda said softly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We have a security breach, as yet unidentified, but we suspect
the individual has intimate access to the president. You’ll be with those
closest to him every day.”
“I’m not a security agent, I’m a doctor.”
Lucinda smiled. “And as such, a trained observer.”
Wes asked, “Who are the likely suspects?”
Lucinda drew a long breath and listed the limited pool of individuals
with close, continuous access to the president. Evyn Daniels was one
of them. Wes thought back to the hours they’d spent together the night
before. If she’d had this information then, maybe she wouldn’t have
suggested dinner, even though she couldn’t imagine Evyn betraying her
country. But then, she didn’t really know her at all. All she had to go on
were nebulous feelings, and feelings had no place in her job.
“I’ll be read in on any security updates?” Wes asked.
“Yes—need-to-know.” Lucinda stood, indicating the interview
was over. “Questions?”
“No, ma’am. I do have a request.”
“Go ahead,” Lucinda said, a note of curiosity in her tone.
“I’d like to see the autopsy file on Dr. O’Shaughnessy.”
Lucinda’s jaw tightened. “You’ll have that today, Captain. As soon
as the last of the paperwork is completed.”
“Thank you.”
Lucinda Washburn leaned across her desk and pushed a button on
her phone. A voice came over the speaker. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Would you please let the agents know Captain Masters is
ready?”
“Certainly.”
Lucinda turned. “We’ll get the polygraph out of the way, and that
should be the end of the formalities.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wes rose. “As I said, I’ll be reviewing the president’s
chart today. I would like to examine him at his earliest convenience.”
“Really?” Lucinda studied her. “Why? Everything is in his
records.”
• 64 •
Oath Of hOnOr
“That may be, but if I’m going to be his doctor, I need to perform
a baseline physical examination and make my own assessment.”
“You don’t trust your predecessor?”
“I don’t know him,” Wes said. “But in any case, I wouldn’t presume
to take care of someone I had never examined. It’s not good medicine.”
She hesitated, seeing the consternation in Lucinda Washburn’s eyes.
She imagined the president was incredibly busy, an
d finding time to
meet with her would probably be incredibly inconvenient. “In my
experience, high-profile patients often get poor care. Physicians and
everyone else involved are reluctant to inconvenience them. Things
get overlooked. That’s not fair to any patient, but it certainly is not
appropriate for the president of the United States. In light of everything
you’ve told me, it’s imperative I judge his status for myself.”
“I understand. I’ll see that it’s scheduled as soon as possible.”
Lucinda extended her hand and Wes took it. “Welcome to the House,
Captain.”
• 65 •
RADCLY fFE
chapter eight
Evyn hadn’t slept much in the last few days, and she needed a
coffee refill to keep her focused during the routine after-review
of the wedding detail and the rest of the uneventful morning briefing.
Trying not to look distracted, she sloshed milk into her Starbucks
venti cup, added the always-good coffee the valets kept fresh in their
command center, and settled back at the conference table with the other
members of the day shift. She wasn’t herself and couldn’t figure out
what was off. Usually a brisk shower, a fast fantasy, and a hard orgasm
cleared her head for the day, but this morning, she’d opened her eyes
and immediately replayed the evening with Wes—and the details that
came to mind had nothing to do with the job. She kept stumbling over
the way Wes concentrated on her when they talked, as if they had all
night, the way Wes smiled at something Evyn said, her eyes glowing.
And her mouth—God, she had a killer mouth—full lips, broad smile, a
tiny lift on the right side that gave her a hot, sexy, rakish look. Evyn’s
stomach tightened into a hard knot and a quick pulse beat between her
thighs. She sucked in a breath. Whoa. Bad timing—where was that rush
two hours ago when she could have taken care of it? She slugged her
coffee, burned her tongue, and choked.
When she looked over, Gary was staring at her with laughter in
his eyes. She tossed him a get bent look, and he smothered a grin. He
always claimed he could read her mind, but she assured him he was
wrong, remarking if he could, he’d be walking around with a perpetual
boner and he should be so lucky.
Agents rose and started to leave the room, the midnight shift
• 66 •
Oath Of hOnOr
heading home and the rest to their posts. Evyn grabbed her black trench
coat and coffee.
“Evyn,” Tom Turner said. “Hang on a minute, will you.”
“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 •
RADCLY fFE
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
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,” E
vyn 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.
“That’s your job. In the meantime, we need to button down
everything on our end. I want you to watch communications carefully.
Make sure our analysts are looking for anything, no matter how small,
that gets picked up from sources under surveillance.”
She nodded sharply. “You got it.”
“She’s due for a polygraph. Pick her up and take her over. Sit in
on it.”“I’m not certified—”
“I know—Preston will run it. You can play backup.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And for now, all of this is just between us.”
“Yes, sir,” Evyn said softly. She didn’t want to believe that anyone
inside the White House could be compromising the president by
inadvertently mishandling information. But to do it willfully? To her,
there was no greater sin. Wes couldn’t think her capable of that, could
she?
v
Wes left Lucinda’s office and walked out into the waiting area.
Evyn Daniels stood with a stone-faced man in a dark suit who regarded
her with unsmiling eyes. Wes looked at Evyn. “Good morning, Agent
Daniels.”
“Captain,” Evyn said politely, nothing but professional friendliness
in her eyes. “This is Agent Preston.”
Wes quickly squelched a wave of disappointment at the formal
tone. Business as usual. Last night was a thing of the past, and after
what Lucinda had just told her, business as usual was all there could be
for her with anyone on the job. She wasn’t here to make friends. She
nodded to Preston. “You’ll be doing the testing?”
• 69 •
RADCLY fFE
“That’s right,” Preston said. “If you come this way, we’ll tell you