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Beyond Duty Page 2
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He took three steps down before remembering something he needed to tell the mysterious little spitfire. He ran back up the staircase and hurried to the window. “Mary, wait at the safe—”
But the girls were already gone, disappearing into the night almost as silently as Mary had slipped in. Riley growled under his breath, irritated at the pull this enigmatic girl had on him. He’d just have to catch up with the runaways later.
He pushed the encounter to the back of his mind. Right now, he had to wrap up the assignment. The gang had boasted about a supplier with high-level connections. That was the guy Riley wanted, then they could shut down this operation. Permanently.
Chapter One
A year later
U.S. Army Reserve First Lieutenant Mary “Chip” Anderson was disciplined enough not to stare at Colonel Jackson with her mouth gaping. “Excuse me, Sir?” She stood in front of the colonel’s desk inside his office on Joint Base Meyer-Henderson Hall. Although he’d instructed her to stand at ease, the order he’d just stated had made her spine stiffen to strict attention.
“I know this change in your duty assignment is unusual.” The colonel pointed his pen at the document on his desk. “But the request comes directly from a United States Senator. You’re to be at the meeting at Northstar Security by thirteen-hundred hours.”
“May I ask which senator?”
“Senator Andrew Burnsworth of New Mexico. I understand you know him personally.”
Andrew. Fiona’s husband. “The senator’s wife is a friend of mine.” Chip’s knees went weak. Had something happened to Fiona? Could that be why she hadn’t returned any texts? Chip kept her voice professional to hide her personal worry. “Did Senator Burnsworth mention what this was about?”
“He requires a military liaison for a presentation, the details of which are classified, even to me.” The colonel scowled, obviously unhappy about being kept in the dark.
“Is that all, Sir?”
“That’s all I have, other than the senator asked for you specifically. I know this assignment is somewhat unconventional, but I expect you to comport yourself to the highest degree of excellence that I’ve come to expect from you.”
She suppressed the bloom of warmth at the unexpected compliment. “Yes, Sir.”
The colonel paused, then leaned forward with a hard stare. “On the other hand, Lieutenant, if I discover this is some whim cooked up by the senator’s wife because of your friendship, it won’t matter who your father is. You’re due for your next fitness report in a few weeks and you don’t want to put me in a bad mood. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” Chip tried not to twitch under her superior officer’s cool gaze. She was still unsure if she wanted to re-up for another hitch, but she absolutely didn’t want to screw up an honorable discharge.
The colonel gave a nod. “That’s all, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”
She saluted, did an about-face, and strode from the office with her nerves tingling at the strange change in her duty assignment.
Outside the drab government building, the mid-October sunshine and cloudless sky looked out of place. To the east, the flags surrounding Arlington National Cemetery were barely moving. If Fiona was pulling some sort of prank to spring Chip from her two-week duty, thunderclouds ought to be gathering for the downpour of the century and wash her down the Potomac.
Chip loved Fiona like a sister and had been looking forward to her friend’s return from a mini-vacation, but also had no illusions that Fiona sometimes played the powerful rich-girl card just because she could. Except, she’d never interfered with Chip’s military duties before, and although the unanswered texts were worrisome, Chip hoped Fiona wasn’t behind this sudden change in duty.
After climbing into her little two-door sedan Chip took a deep breath, and let it out slowly through pursed lips. Maybe this assignment was a blessing in disguise. With six weeks to decide to either re-up or resign her commission, the duty change was a little speed bump, nothing more.
She started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot toward Washington Blvd. Lately, she’d been feeling the burnout of long deployments. Her full-time civilian job as a youth correction officer was becoming more and more demanding. But it was more rewarding, too. Every time she persuaded a teenager off the streets and into a program that would make a difference in his or her young life, she felt as though she was making amends to Julia, the dear friend she’d been unable to save all those years ago.
Chip had also watched Fiona, at age thirty-five, struggle to get pregnant, and recognized her own biological countdown. Chasing around the city for her job and deploying across the globe for military duty didn’t leave time to raise a family. Scratch that. She didn’t even have time to cultivate a relationship. Especially when most of the men she knew wanted a docile homemaker for a wife, instead of G.I. Jane.
Passing the Pentagon, Chip filed away her personal thoughts, steered the car across the 14th Street Bridge, and focused on the upcoming meeting with the senator at Northstar Security Firm.
She sensed her father’s fingerprints all over this assignment. Major General Marion Anderson was a professional acquaintance of the senator, and had enough pull to change her orders, but would he? Her father made no secret of how proud he was of her accomplishments, but he’d never pulled rank when it came to her career.
If the general hadn’t changed her duty assignment, it made her all the more curious about why the senator required her presence. Wouldn’t any officer in the division do? And why meet at a personal security agency like Northstar Security Firm instead of the colonel’s office?
As she wound through D.C.’s streets toward Northstar, she realized she wasn’t far from the safe house where she’d been told to take Lisa after that ordeal last year. Was it coincidence she was meeting Fiona’s husband at the very agency involved in saving the young runaway? What about the agent who continued to sneak into her thoughts when she let down her guard? Would he be there or away on some other undercover assignment? She supposed it didn’t matter. She was ordered to do a job and would focus on her duty to help the senator.
Chip’s thoughts circled around to the unanswered texts. When she got to the firm, she’d ask Andrew about Fiona’s silence.
Poor Fiona had taken a beating in the press when she married a man nearly twenty years her senior. But there was no doubt in Chip’s mind that Fiona was in love with her husband. She stood by his side, stood for his causes, and crusaded for his political agenda as well as for some of her own pet projects. Even now, five years after the wedding, Fiona and the senator were as much in love and committed to each other as the day they’d said their vows.
Traffic was light and several minutes later, Chip reached the address for Northstar Security Firm. As she drove through a gate bordered by twelve-foot high razor-wire fence, she noticed a large electrical box off to the side. Regardless of Northstar’s status as one of the premiere security agencies in the country, electrified razor wire seemed a bit extreme.
She stopped the car in a parking space and studied the building. At first glance, the facility wasn’t much different from any other office building, quite ordinary actually, until her gaze moved to the various radio antennae and satellite dishes on the roof. Her military police training kicked in, making her more than a little curious about the firm. If communications on the inside required this advanced of a setup, it was possible that tight perimeter security was essential.
Before exiting the car, she secured her cover on her head and smoothed her braided bun under the hat. She was still on duty, after all. She locked the car, and strode up the sidewalk, taking a moment to straighten her jacket. At the door, she wiped damp palms along the sides of her skirt. There was no reason to be nervous, but now that she was here she couldn’t shake the feeling something was horribly wrong, and she was about to be at the center of it.
A guard—a man somewhere in his late sixties with a buzzed haircut, and broad chest sporting the nametag of
Hicks—sat at the front counter. He asked for her identification. After completing the security check, he handed her a laminated card proclaiming her a visitor. While she clipped it to her uniform pocket, he pointed to the side of the counter. “After you go through those doors, take the hallway to your left. The director will meet you in the conference room. First door on your left.”
“Thank you.” She waited until he released the lock on the glass doors, then stepped into a small foyer. Behind her, the doors closed with a heavy clank, making her wonder if they were bulletproof. She tugged on her jacket again, feeling as though she’d entered Fort Knox.
Directly in front of her was a dark blue wall. The firm’s mission statement stood out in large gold lettering.
NORTHSTAR—GUIDED BY THE TRUTH
An odd premonition skated down her spine. She could use some truthful guidance about her future right now, but first, she had a meeting to attend.
To her right was an open area with several cubicles. To her left was the hallway the guard mentioned. She took several steps then spotted the nameplate identifying the conference room. Across the hall was a set of formidable-looking closed doors with no nameplate—a room that was obviously off-limits to visitors.
She faced the conference room, tapped lightly on the door, then turned the handle and stepped inside. Eight empty, top-grain leather chairs sat around a cherry wood table that commanded the center of the room. Although the room didn’t shout extravagance, it did speak softly that no expense had been spared. Based on her observations of the building’s exterior, she thought it likely the conference room’s paneled walls concealed sophisticated technology as well.
As she was the only person present so far, she sat in a chair that faced the door, removed her cover, and patted her hair in place.
“Lieutenant Anderson.” The voice came from the doorway. A man in his fifties stepped into the room. He was tall and lean, maybe six-two and very fit; his temples were framed with a touch of gray hair. His clear green eyes were sharp, not missing a single detail as he strode toward her carrying a laptop. “I’m Byron O’Neal.”
“Sir.” She stood and greeted him with a friendly handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too. Would you like some coffee?”
“No thank you, sir.”
“Please, call me Byron. May I call you Chip?”
She nodded, hiding her surprise that he knew her nickname.
“I like the name.” The corner of his mouth tilted in a lopsided smile. “And now that I’ve met you, I can see how you come by it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have a strong resemblance to your father, only prettier.”
“I take it you’re acquainted with the general?” If Byron knew her father, then he’d know she rarely used her given name.
“I am.”
O’Neal didn’t offer further explanation, so she didn’t press for one. She and her father had a loving relationship, but when it came to his years of service, he kept secrets she’d never learn and had given up trying to find out a long time ago.
“No problems changing your duty assignment?” Byron set the laptop next to a chair at the head of the table.
“Colonel Jackson wasn’t happy about the lack of details offered, but no. No problems.” She answered more sharply than she intended.
“Good. I had confidence your father would make it happen.” Byron nodded approvingly.
If she’d had any doubts the general pulled the strings for this reassignment, Byron had just removed them. Changing a military duty assignment wasn’t exactly a hard task for a man looking at a position as one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, but why now, after all this time, would her father interfere with her career?
“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about,” Byron continued.
“I am, sir—Byron.”
He nodded. “I’ll bring you up to speed when the others join us.”
****
Riley approached the conference room and paused in the partially open doorway when he heard voices. His father’s voice he recognized. The woman’s unfamiliar alto sounded slightly on edge, as though something had upset her. Slipping inside the open door, he got a first look at his new partner for this assignment—General Marion Anderson’s daughter.
She stood a head shorter than his dad. The lack of height didn’t diminish her physical presence. Her strong posture and disposition seemed to fill the room. Riley sensed this was not a woman to ignore.
Her head balanced on her slender neck as though suspended by a string. She had curves in all the right places even though most were hidden under her uniform. Her legs, what he could see of them since her skirt ended at knee level, appeared to be those of a runner—strong and firm. Not a single hair escaped the severe knot of her braided bun. Although her face was in profile, he detected a smattering of freckles accenting high cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose. She wasn’t smiling, yet the corner of her mouth had a slight upward tilt as though she smiled a lot.
He’d expected the Army uniform based on his preliminary review of the assignment. What he hadn’t anticipated was her rank. The silver bar on her shoulder meant she was a first lieutenant. His assessment of his new partner went up a notch.
He cleared his throat, and his father and the lieutenant turned as he entered the room. Riley received the full impact of a pair of stormy, gray eyes.
“Mary!”
Her mouth opened in surprise followed by a flare of recognition. Of course, she’d recognize him. A year ago, she’d knocked him flat on his back. Then her expression changed as if a mask dropped into place. Her recovery was so quick he might have imagined it.
At that moment, Senator Burnsworth and General Anderson entered. The senator was tall and slender, but today he looked much older than his fifty-odd years. The general was a few years older than the senator and was a little shorter with broad shoulders. He had a strong familial resemblance to the lieutenant.
“My apologies for being late,” the senator said. “I needed to check in with my office.” The look of relief on his face when he saw the lieutenant didn’t diminish the worry lines around his eyes and mouth. “Chip! I’m so glad you came.” He hurried to give her a hug. “Thank you.”
Riley seized upon her name as the senator and lieutenant embraced. “Chip? Your name is Chip?” Then she wasn’t…No. Of course, she was Mary. What sort of game was she playing?
“Is there something wrong with my name?” Her head tilted slightly, as though challenging him to disagree.
“Yes.” Riley glanced at General Anderson, and then at his dad. Byron’s eyes narrowed with an unasked question. “Uh, no.” He faced Chip. “It’s an unusual name, that’s all.” He hid his confusion behind a smile, and crossed the plush carpet to where she stood beside his father and the senator. He extended a hand. “I’m Riley O’Neal.”
“Lieutenant Anderson.” She nodded and took his hand.
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink and he wondered why she offered her rank instead of her first name. Would she mention their last meeting? Should he? He felt increased pressure in her grasp as he held on longer than was polite, but he couldn’t seem to let go.
Finally, Chip withdrew her hand and stepped backward, providing plenty of distance between them. Apparently, she wanted to pretend they didn’t know each other. Well, he could play that game, too. For now. He’d been searching for answers about Mary, the missing runaway, for almost a year. Now that he’d found her, he supposed he could wait a little longer.
Byron and the general seemed curious about the tense exchange, but Riley wasn’t prepared to divulge the reason for his interest in this particular woman. He’d mentioned Mary in his report after the raid on the gang house, but he’d never revealed his later search for her. Swallowing that omission, he ignored the other men and walked to the opposite side of the table to await the briefing.
The lieutenant glanced at General Ander
son, her face growing even pinker. “Good afternoon, General.”
“Lieutenant. Good to see you.” The General nodded and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, softening his stern features, then he took a seat at the far end of the table.
The senator held a chair for Chip and she gave him a smile before taking her seat across from Riley. Then the senator sat in the chair next to her.
Byron moved to his place at the head of the table. “Chip, we asked you here today because of your association with Senator Burnsworth and his wife.”
“Actually, I was ordered to attend this meeting by Colonel Jackson,” she countered, glancing briefly at the general, before turning to the senator. “I was told you requested a liaison. I suspect you had the general reassign me?”
The senator took a shuddering breath. “That’s right. We needed to make sure your duty change was on official military records. We didn’t want your association with the D.C. police department to raise any flags.”
“I don’t understand. What’s so important you had to go through command channels to see me? I would have come to you if you’d called. And why would my civilian position be an issue?” She glanced toward the doorway as though expecting someone else. “Where’s Fiona?”
The senator scooted to the edge of his chair, looking so rigid a brisk wind would snap him in two. Riley felt for the man. Burnsworth had every reason to be suffering.
Chip leaned over and touched the senator’s arm. “Has something happened to Fiona? Is that why she hasn’t returned my texts?” When he didn’t answer, she prodded. “Andrew?”
Senator Burnsworth’s hands trembled as he took his phone from his pocket and touched the screen. Without a word, he handed the device to Chip. She glanced at each person in the room before turning her attention to the screen where a video was queued to play. She tapped the icon.
Riley had already watched the video. Twice. Observing Chip as she viewed it for the first time brought his own outrage back to the surface.