Wes couldn’t see Evyn, who was posted inside the kitchen with
a view through the circular window on the swinging door. In order to
protect the civilians, the plan was to record the exchange on video and
apprehend both Jennifer and her contact outside the building in a safe
zone. Wes’s job was to receive the virus and supervise its transport to a
secure lab. The second part of her assignment—the part she hoped she
would not have to carry out—was to limit civilian exposure in the event
the virus was released and oversee the treatment of any individuals who
were exposed.
• 258 •
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The other agents inside the diner posed as a businessman reading
a newspaper at the far end of the counter opposite the rear exit and a
young couple having breakfast at a booth just inside the front door.
They blended in with the morning business crowd and neighborhood
diners, and Wes doubted even someone looking for it would pick up
their constant survey of anyone coming in the door.
“Here comes the subject,” Block murmured, and Wes swiveled
on her stool to get a view of his monitor. Jennifer Pattee, a large black
leather bag over one shoulder, walked briskly up to the diner door and
inside. The kitchen feed picked her up as she walked a few feet down
the aisle and then slowed as if searching for someone she planned to
meet. With a sudden smile, she hurried on and sat down across from a
single man in a Redskins cap drinking coffee in a booth. Wes had looked
at him a half dozen times and noted nothing out of the ordinary—mid-
thirties, possibly older, rugged outdoor type in a flannel shirt with faint
dark stubble along his jaw. He half rose as Jennifer sat, and Block
adjusted the audio receiver for maximum reception.
“Hi,” Jennifer said as she settled across from the man. “You must
be Tom.”
“And you’re Jennifer. Ellie’s told me so much about you.”
“She hasn’t told me nearly enough about you,” Jennifer said. “It’s
great to finally meet you. I’m sorry you won’t be able to stay longer in
the city. I could play tour guide.”
He smiled, sipped his coffee, and said nothing while a waitress
approached. Jennifer asked for coffee and a plain croissant.
“Maybe next time I’m through,” he said.
“That would be great.” Jennifer picked at the pastry, although she
didn’t appear nervous. She glanced at her watch several times while her
contact passed on a refill on his coffee and watched the door as other
customers came and went.
“Excuse me,” he said, fishing his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m
expecting a message.”
“Please—go ahead,” Jennifer said quickly.
He checked the readout and grimaced. “I’m so sorry, a business
message from a client overseas. They’re available now and I have to get
back to them. It may take a while. I hate to have gotten you all the way
out here only to run out on you.”
“That’s okay—if you can get free for lunch or dinner in the next
• 259 •
RADCLY fFE
day or so, you have my number. If not, maybe I’ll see you the next time
I visit Ellie.”
“Absolutely.” He started to rise and paused. “Oh, I almost
forgot…” He reached into a backpack beside him and drew out a small
narrow box. “Ellie asked me to give you this. A Christmas present. She
said she didn’t get her shopping done in time to mail it to you.”
Laughing, Jennifer slid the small box into her oversized bag. “That
sounds like her. Thanks for bringing it along.”
“No problem. Well—I should go.”
“All right. Hopefully we’ll meet again sometime soon.”
He held her gaze a moment. “I hope so too. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Jennifer said softly.
v
Roberts’s voice came over the COM. “Team one, subject is on his
way out. Take him at the corner…Go.”
Wes watched as two men closed in from either side and a woman
stepped from a parked SUV into his path, forcing him to slow. The
subject’s expression went from surprised to wary, and he quickly scanned
up and down the street as if considering his chances of escaping. Within
seconds, the two male agents each grabbed an arm and the trio pushed
him forward into the back of the idling SUV. The agents followed him
in, and the vehicle sped away. The whole thing was over in less than a
Wes scanned all the monitors for Evyn and didn’t see her
anywhere. Her mouth went dry but her pulse stayed steady. She glanced
at the masks and hazmat suits stacked by the van door. Evyn knew her
job, and she knew hers. No matter what happened out there, she’d find
Evyn.Inside the diner, Jennifer searched through the large shoulder
bag and came out with bills that she laid on the table next to her
uneaten croissant and nearly full cup of coffee. Wes wondered if she’d
transferred the stolen sample to another container inside the bag. Any
unnecessary handling risked rupturing the seal on the tube or, even
worse, breakage.
“Showtime,” Block muttered as Jennifer stood and pulled on her
topcoat, slipped the strap of her black leather bag securely onto her
• 260 •
Oath Of hOnOr
shoulder, and strode directly toward the front door. The next second,
she stepped out into the morning.
v
“Go,” Roberts said over the COM.
Evyn pushed away from the side of the diner and strode around
the corner to the front. Jennifer was thirty feet away, one hand in the
pocket of her coat, the other on top of her bag.
“Hi, Jen,” Evyn said brightly, watching the hand on the bag. As far
as she could tell, the bag was closed. She looked past Jennifer down the
block, saw Paula Stark intercept a woman with a stroller and redirect
her back the way she had come. The sidewalk right in front of the diner
was clear—the inside team would have prevented anyone from exiting
until the intercept was over and the area secured. Directly across from
Jennifer, Roberts stepped out of a parked SUV.
“Oh hi, Evyn.”
Twenty-five feet.
“How about I give you a ride to work.”
Twenty feet.
Jennifer’s friendly smile dimmed. “I’m not due in for another hour
or so. Thanks anyhow.”
Fifteen feet.
“I’ll give you a lift home, then.” And focused on shoulder bag, on
Jennifer’s fingers gripping the zipper along its top edge.
Jennifer glanced over her shoulder. Stark strode rapidly toward her.
Her gaze cut across the street. Cam, joined by another agent, arrowed
toward her. Jennifer’s eyes widened.
Ten feet.
“You’ll want to say yes, Jen,” Evyn said, watching Jennifer’s hand
ease toward the now open bag. “Make this easy.”
Jennifer’s other hand came out of her pocket. The Sig looked
huge.“Gun!” Evyn shouted and launched herself across the last eight
feet. The sharp crack split the a
ir, heat flashed over her, and the rage in
Jennifer’s eyes swallowed her.
v
• 261 •
RADCLY fFE
Evyn went down and Wes jumped to her feet. The COM lines
flooded with shouts.
Shots fired.
Agent down.
Medics. We need medics.
Wes grabbed the hazmat container, shoved the rear door of the
van open, and shouldered through. Block was beside her, running. Her
breath tore from her chest—shards of pain shredded her throat. Half a
block seemed like an eternity. A clot of agents hovered over the prone
figures. Jennifer’s shoulder bag lay on the sidewalk, its contents strewn
around it. The box Jennifer had received from her contact lay half in
and half out of the bag.
“Get away from the bag,” Wes shouted. “Everyone—back away
from the bag.”
Roberts materialized from the huddle of bodies and jogged toward
her. “Subject is contained. We’ve got an agent down.”
Evyn. Evyn was hurt. Wes clamped down on her panic. “The
specimen could be compromised. This area is a hot zone—get everyone
out, cordon off the street.”
“Already gave the order.”
“How is she?”
“Gunshot—close range. She’s shocky.”
“Evacuate her—tell them to put her in isolation. Everyone else
goes into lockdown until I know what we’re dealing with.”
“I have to interrogate the subject,” Roberts said.
“Then you’ll have to do it in an isolation cell.” Wes kept her
focus on the bag and what it contained. Her duty, her obligation, was
to neutralize that biological agent, a substance every bit as lethal as a
dirty bomb and capable of killing far more. They didn’t know what they
were dealing with, and every member of the team had potentially been
exposed. Her heart demanded she find Evyn, protect her, aid her above
all others, but her duty drove her toward the open bag. Kneeling, she
flipped the lid on the biohazard chest filled with dry ice and pulled on
a pair of gloves. She extracted the suspect package from Jennifer’s bag
and dropped it into the chest. The package appeared to be intact. After
stripping off her gloves and depositing them in a red biohazard bag, she
donned another pair of protective gloves, pushed the spilled contents
back inside the bag, zipped it, and dropped that into the biohazard bag
• 262 •
Oath Of hOnOr
as well. Using yet another pair of gloves, she sealed the red bag and
carried it and the hazmat chest to the SUV idling half up on the curb
next to her. She climbed into the back, and as the agent inside pulled the
doors closed, she looked back at the group on the sidewalk.
Jennifer Pattee was facedown with her hands cuffed behind her
back. Hernandez, the medic assigned to Stark’s team, and Stark knelt
over Evyn. Wes couldn’t see Evyn’s face. She stared at the plain white
chest with the iridescent green biohazard sign stamped on the front
resting at her feet. The SUV sped up, leaving the scene on the sidewalk
farther and farther behind. Leaving Evyn behind. Wes concentrated
on the job that needed to be done, ignoring the pain that made every
heartbeat as agonizing as a bullet tearing her flesh. She’d had to
abandon her wounded in the field again, and this time, she’d left her
heart behind.
• 263 •
RADCLY fFE
chapter thirty-three
They made it the eight miles to the army research lab in Silver
Spring in under twenty minutes. When Wes climbed out of
the SUV with the white ice chest in her hand, three uniformed soldiers
converged on her.
“Captain Masters?” the female major asked.
“That’s right.”
“Come with us, please.”
The silent escorts led her directly through the building to an
elevator and down one floor. A fortyish African American woman with
short black hair and luminous mahogany eyes in a disposable cover
gown and gloves met Wes as she stepped out of the elevator. The
hallway in front of the air lock to the Level 4 lab was empty, save for
the slowly panning security cameras mounted at intervals along the
stark white corridor.
“I’m Dr. Felice Glover,” the woman said. “What’s the status of
the specimen?”
“Contained at this point,” Wes said, handing over the chest. “I
don’t know if we have a viable virus. I doubt it’s been kept at optimal
conditions since it went missing from the original lab. If the vial is
compromised, widespread contamination isn’t likely, but we’re taking
precautions.”
The scientist nodded briskly. “We’ll know soon enough about
exposure risks. We’ll scan the container for any leaks and I’ll call you
and Director Roberts.”
“Thank you,” Wes said, feeling caught up in the surreal. They
• 264 •
Oath Of hOnOr
were casually discussing a potentially lethal contagion while Evyn was
somewhere, injured, possibly seriously. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”
“I think the risk is slight, but keep the team in the vehicle until I
report. It’s as good as an isolation room.”
“Roger that.”
Wes hurried away, wondering if she’d ever find out what she’d just
delivered. Her job was done—some might consider she had no further
need to know. She jabbed the elevator button, rocked impatiently on her
heels during the one floor trip, and strode rapidly outside. The instant
she stepped out of the building, she called Cameron Roberts.
“Roberts.”
“How is she?”
“We’re at George Washington. The docs are looking at her now.
They’re saying guarded condition.”
Which meant anything from walking wounded to potentially
serious. “Can I talk to her?”
“They threw us all out, but she’s awake—I know that much.”
Relief rushed through her so powerfully Wes staggered. She braced
one hand against the rough brick of the building and lowered her head,
drawing a deep breath until the churning turmoil settled a little. “If they
let you in to see her, tell her…Tell her I’m on my way.”
“I’ll do that.”
“The specimen is secure.”
“I had no doubt of that,” Roberts said. “I’ll be with her until you
get here.”
“Thank you.” Wes jogged to the SUV and said to the agent driving,
“George Washington University Hospital, as quick as you can.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Wes settled in the back and closed her eyes. Her part of the mission
was done, and all that mattered was Evyn.
v
The glass door to the cubicle slid back and the curtain twitched
aside. The doctor, a harried guy in rumpled scrubs and a two-days’
growth of beard, walked in. He looked even more tired out of the space
suit.
• 265 •
RADCLY fFE
“I guess I’m not buggy, huh?” Evyn said.
“Your boss says only universal infection precautions are necessary,
and we use those with everyone.”
“Good.” Evyn relaxed, the tight spring of anxiety coiled in her
belly loosening. Wes must be okay if they’d determined the team wasn’t
at risk from the virus. “So—I’m out of here?”
“Not quite. The bullet just grazed the soft tissue at the top of
your shoulder.” He taped a rectangular bandage on the top of Evyn’s
shoulder. “You’ll get some swelling in your arm and a fair amount of
pain. An overnight stay and a pain pump—”
“No,” Evyn said. “I’m not staying.”
“I’d recommend it.”
“But you’re not requiring it?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Leave the bandage on for twenty-
four hours. The nurses will give you a prescription for antibiotics and
pain pills when you’re discharged.”
“Thanks,” Evyn said, stretching for her shirt draped on the nearby
chair. She winced at the burn in her shoulder and stopped. She didn’t
like being naked, but she didn’t want to give the guy any reason to
restrict her activities. “When can I go back to work?”
“You’ll need to have a wound check in forty-eight hours—you can
come back here, or—”
“That’s okay. I’ll see my own doctor.” She almost smiled at the
thought of just how true that statement was, but the pleasure faded
quickly. Wes had been the one closest to the virus. Maybe she’d been
exposed, but the rest of them were in the clear. She had to get out of
here and find out what was going on. She needed to see Wes. “So—
we’re done? Thanks for everything.”
He looked up from the chart. “I’d rather you see a surgeon. General
medical doctors don’t really have the experience to evaluate this kind
of wound.”
“She’s not—”
The curtains parted and Wes walked in. She wasn’t in uniform,
but then she never needed to be to look like she was in command. Her
eyes were stormy and fierce, fixed on Evyn. “I’m sorry it took me so
long to get here.”
“I’m okay,” Evyn said immediately. “It was nothing. A scratch.”
• 266 •
Oath Of hOnOr
“A little more than that,” the emergency physician said, studying
Wes. “You are?”
“Captain Wesley Masters—chief of the White House Medical
Unit.” Wes glanced at Evyn. “And her partner.”
“Oh, well then.” He tucked the chart under his arm and pushed his