Full Throttle(97)
When POTUS gives an order, we follow it to a T, Dan said after Penni asked whether or not they should let Abby and Steady hit the showers in one of the airport’s lounges before climbing onboard the high-tech aircraft. And we do not deviate, he’d finished, shooting her a meaningful look.
And so they hadn’t. Deviated, that is. But Abby didn’t seem to mind that she was still covered head to toe in dry, crusty mud. She was conked out in a seat four rows back, having fallen asleep less than ten minutes into the flight and having barely stirred since—even when they stopped to refuel in Beijing.
Penni was glad for it. Sleep, and its amazing recuperative powers, was the best thing for the poor woman after everything she’d been through.
Turning back around, she blew out a deep breath. Fifteen more minutes and they’d touch down in DC. There, she’d hand off the job of Abby’s security to the freshly showered, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Secret Service agents who were no doubt waiting to whisk the woman away. And then she could crawl under the covers back in her apartment and get some sleep. Probably cry herself to sleep, if she was being honest. She could feel the effects of the last two days, all the shock and the trauma, waiting for an outlet.
Like the kind of outlet you were looking for in the ladies’ room? a little voice whispered.
No, she answered angrily. Nothing like that. I just need to indulge in a good old-fashioned bawl-a-thon in the privacy of my own home. That’s all. And then, maybe, I can start—
“You didn’t get any sleep?” Dan asked, stretching and yawning in the seat across the aisle. The muscles in his shoulders bulged into hard balls when he lifted his arms over his head. His T-shirt rode up the tiniest bit, just enough to reveal the light brown love trail that led from his belly button into the waistband of his jeans.
Hello! Her blood stirred at the sight, but she studiously ignored it. “I already fell down on the job of protecting Abby once,” she told him. “I’ll be damned if I do it again. I’ll get some sleep once I’m officially released from duty.”
Dan tilted his head, one corner of his luscious mouth quirked. “Tell me something, Agent DePaul. Were you always this tough?”
Tough? Tough? If he knew even a fraction of what was going on inside her, the turmoil of her emotions, the absolute last thing he’d think her was tough. “Growing up on the mean streets of Brooklyn with a police officer for a father pretty much ensures a backbone of steel.”
But even steel has a melting point. And she had just about reached hers. Christ, she couldn’t wait to get off this plane.
“Cop for a father, huh?” he asked, rubbing two fingers under his chin. The stubble on his face rasped against his knuckles, and his expression said he was poised to question her further about her past.
Because he was actually interested? Or because he felt somehow obligated to ask?
Either way, it doesn’t matter. As soon as we’re on the ground, he’ll go his way and I’ll go mine. After all, she was looking for human connection, and he was a black-ops warrior… So, no. There was no need for them to break into that whole let’s-get-to-know-each-other song and dance. Besides, for whatever reason—call it insanity or accelerated attachment due to the crisis they’d been through together—it was going to be hard enough saying good-bye to him. Throw in a touching little heart-to-heart right here at the end, and it might turn mad impossible.
“He worked the same beat for nearly thirty years,” she said, then quickly changed the subject. “So, I just got off the phone with my superior. He said agents from the U.S. embassy in Kuala Lumpur have picked up both Rajen and Irdina, and they’re sending someone to look after little Jaya. The decision has been made to cover the cost for Jaya’s treatment while they’re trying to determine what, if anything, should be done with Irdina.”
“That’s good.” Dan nodded. “And as it should be.”
Penni agreed. “If ever I doubted Uncle Sam could be magnanimous, that little bit of news restored my faith in him.”
Dan smiled, and she had to look away so he wouldn’t see what that expression did to her insides. “Like any powerful man,” he mused, “ol’ Uncle can be equal parts brutal and kind.”
“Mmm.” She nodded noncommittally, figuring he’d know better than most.
“And Rajen? Our illustrious hotel security director? What’s to become of him?”
Unconsciously fiddling with the buttons on her blouse, she said, “He underwent additional questioning once his wound had been patched up. But according to my superior, he’s as much of a dupe as we thought. They’re coordinating with the Malaysian government on how to handle his punishment.”