Price Of Honor

Epilogue

Flagstaff, Arizona: the end of the line

“Pull over here,” Jane said.

Hooker turned into a roadside lookout that would be crowded with tourists in a few hours. At an hour before dawn, no one was around. Flagstaff lay three miles away in a basin in the Ponderosa pine forest, the sprawling city marked by the lights of the Northern Arizona University campus, the downtown area, and the sporadic headlights of cars speeding along Route 66.

“Plenty of spots up here for me to lay low for a while,” Hooker said. “You might need a ride out of this place a little later.”

“No, I won’t.” Jane handed him a slip of paper. “You’ll need this to pick up the package at FedEx in Sedona. It should be there already.”

He looked at it, his jaw working. “The money’s been there all along?”

She smiled. “Most of the time.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to let me in on this op either?”

“No need for you to know.”

He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “You know, you can’t really change things by taking out one man. Just because he’s got the title doesn’t mean he’s really in command of anything. The kinds of things you want to change—there’s usually a lot of people wielding power behind the scenes, people who won’t necessarily stop even if you take out the figurehead.”

“Sometimes a big statement is the only thing that makes an impression,” Jane said, having heard the refrain repeated thousands of times by her father and his friends. She still believed it, mostly, but it didn’t much matter anymore. Jennifer and Robbie were looking at life in prison. The chance that she would ever see them again was zero. Her father was gone, and along with him, the organization he had built. She’d told Robbie they could find another militia to join, but when she tried to imagine putting her faith in someone the way she had her father, she couldn’t picture it.

“I’ve gotta get going,” she said.

“Yeah,” Hooker said. “Me too.”

“Russo,” she said. “You’re a liability to him, you know that, right?”

Hooker laughed, the sound like gravel crunching under tires. “Oh yeah, I’ve always known that. Always knew I’d have to get out before he decided I wasn’t any use anymore. Since I haven’t been returning any of his boy Derek’s calls, I think that time is now.”

Jane pushed open the door and stepped out. Hooker must know he’d be running for the rest of his life, if he was lucky. “You might want to get rid of this Jeep when you hit Sedona. They’ll figure out who it belongs to sooner or later.”

“I could leave it somewhere for you.”

“I won’t be needing it.”

Jane closed the door, shouldered her pack and rifle, and strode to the edge of the drop-off leading down the mountainside. She turned and watched Hooker pull out and drive away. When his taillights disappeared around a curve, she quickly dropped down the slope and disappeared into the trees.

*

“I hadn’t realized how much I missed the big bed,” Blair said, stepping out of the hotel-room bathroom and toweling off her hair.

Cam grinned. “The berth was cozy, but there’s a lot more you can do with a little extra room.”

Blair laughed. “I noticed that last night.”

“Ready for today?”

“Considering we’ll be headed home after this one is over, more than ready.”

“Me too.”

Blair pulled the white terry hotel robe from the closet and slipped into it. “I got an email from Vivian Elliott. She, Dusty, and their dog made it back to DC just fine and apparently they’re going to spend the rest of Dusty’s medical leave at a shore house somewhere down South. Viv says it’s a great place for a picnic. Do you think picnic is a euphemism for sex?”

“You know, baby,” Cam said, sliding her arms inside Blair’s robe, “sometimes a cigar is just a—”

Blair nipped at Cam’s jaw and smoothed her palms over Cam’s spectacular ass. “Yeah, but I’m thinking in this case it’s more.”

“Maybe we can get away for a while and have a few picnics of our own.” Cam kissed Blair’s neck and eased free. “And that is a euphemism.”

Blair grinned and sprawled in the big chair by the window to watch Cam dress, something she never tired of. She loved Cam naked, she loved her in a suit. She just loved her. By the time Cam donned a pale charcoal shirt the same shade as her eyes, Blair couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. She smoothed the shirt collar down, pressed her palms to Cam’s chest, and kissed her. “I couldn’t be prouder to stand up there onstage with you and show the world you’re mine.”

“Adam said he wanted us to be low-key, remember?” Cam ran her hands through Blair’s still-damp hair.

“Oh, and I so care what Adam Eisley wants. He’s Dad’s campaign manager, not mine.”

Cam laughed. “You still going to wear that little red dress?”

Blair laughed. “Damn right I am.”

“Then let’s go make a statement.”

*

Jane stretched out on top of the water tower. By eleven, the metal surface would have been too hot to tolerate if she hadn’t spread out a thermal barrier blanket underneath her. By the time her perch became too uncomfortable, she wouldn’t need it anymore. She sighted on the stage through her scope and watched as the faithful arrived. The distance was at the farthest range of her weapon and her skill, but she wasn’t worried. She wasn’t going to miss, not this time. This time, she’d have justice—if not for Jennifer and Robbie, at least for her father.

Chances were they’d reach the water tower or cut off her exit routes before she’d have a chance to get away. That was fine too. She didn’t really have anyplace to go.

The minutes ticked by and the motorcade arrived, a line of black limos and SUVs gleaming under the winter sun. She watched through her scope as people filed into the stands facing the stage and the man of the hour stepped out from the line of vehicles, surrounded by a handful of security. She tracked him across the stage, patiently, like stalking a deer from a blind. She had nothing but time now. When he finally stepped up to the podium, a thrill of satisfaction coiled in her belly. She settled her cheek against the stock, her heart rate slow, her breathing even slower. As she focused on Franklin Russo’s face, she saw her father’s.

Honor thy father, she thought, and squeezed the trigger.