Above All, Honor

Chapter Eight

Megan stretched out on the couch with a drink and watched the traffic below on Pennsylvania Avenue. From her highrise apartment, she could see the White House in the distance. She wondered fleetingly how Normani was faring, but put the thought out of her mind. Tonight, she didn't have to worry about her. She could relax. Megan reached for her phone and dialed a number from memory.

"This is number 38913," she said as a female voice answered. "I'd like to confirm my arrangement for tonight." She waited for a moment as her client ID number was verified. "Yes, eleven o'clock at—" She hesitated as her beeper went off. "Just one moment," she added, checking the number. It was the White House. "I'll have to call back. It may be later. Yes, keep it open all night for now. I'll take care of the time. Thank you."

She pushed the other line, keeping the scrambler engaged. "Pete," she answered tersely when the phone was picked up.

"Commander? It's Mac. I'm sorry to bother you, but I thought you'd want a call."

"Mac?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing at the White House? What's going on?"

"I'm not supposed to be here, but she's gone, Commander. They lost her an hour ago. The commander here didn't want anyone to know, so when it started getting late, a buddy of mine called on the sly."

"Goddamn it," Megan cursed. "Who else knows?"

"Just the inside team here. They have no clue where to look."

Megan quickly understood his message. "Right. We can't very well call out our own people. We're not even supposed to know about this." Megan sighs, taking a moment to quickly configure up a plan in her head. "I know of a few places I can check. Listen Mac, there's a floating club around here– it travels around from one venue to the next all over the city. Very trendy, only people in the know have the address. Find it for me. I'll call you in an hour."

Megan interrupted her subordinate's protests before they even got to fully escape his mouth. "I don't know how you'll find it, but I'm sure you will."

Two hours later, Mac successfully called with the address. Megan arrived at the warehouse close to midnight. She had been to every gay bar she knew of, and several Mac had come up with, as well. For a while, Megan was starting to lose hope that she'd ever find the First Daughter. It was New Year's Eve, after all. The bars were packed with exuberant men and women in various stages of intoxication and undress. Even now, she still couldn't found her. For all she knew, Normani was tucked away in bed somewhere with a girlfriend they knew nothing about. Megan only hoped so.

The club was much worse than Megan had imagined. Jostling bodies wall to wall, smoke hanging in clouds below dim spotlights, and heavy air reeking with sex and booze practically assaulted the agent's senses. Megan pushed her way into the shadowy depths of the room, hoping and praying that any stunning brown skinned woman she saw would be Normani.

Meanwhile, the First Daughter watched Megan drawing closer with a smirk. She stood leaning against a wall in the narrow passageway. It led to semi-private alcoves and niches where women were having their frantic couplings. Normani had been eagerly observing a young stud in tight black leather pants swaggering about at the bar, clearly trying to impress her friends with her bravado. Normani thought she might be fun to toy with. It was always so satisfying to humble these types, with their touch-me-not type personalities. She made a bet with herself that she could make this one beg. She was just about to go over to her when she caught sight of Megan.

Taller by a head than most of the women, the agent easily cut through the crowd. In a light windbreaker, dark polo shirt, signature faded jeans, and black boots, Megan should have looked ordinary, but she was easily the sexiest woman Normani had ever seen. She moved with certainty and grace, lithe and powerful, like a hunter searching for its prey. It was only the darkness in the hall that gave Normani the advantage. As Megan moved closer, Normani's pulse quickened. This time, the hunted would become the hunter.