After a full day of training at Rowley, Ellie was ready for a warm bath and bed, but after walking into her apartment, she pulled off her boots, poured a glass of chardonnay, and settled in front of the television instead, her favorite bathrobe wrapped around her.
When she checked her Netflix queue, One Way Out was at the top. She’d meant to watch it again…before she’d become involved with the man whose harrowing exploits it depicted.
Wait, were they involved? What sort of relationship did she have with Adam—the president, she reminded herself. She shouldn’t be having any relationship with him, but tell that to her hormones, which had turned into raging rivers of flames right about the time he put his hand on her ass.
She shivered. They needed a cooling-off period, which was why her training rotation was perfectly timed.
Fingering the remote, she took another sip of wine, then found herself clicking “play.” Apparently her remote control wasn’t interested in a cooling-off period.
As the opening credits rolled, she settled against the cushion, cradling her wine glass.
Two hours later, she blew her nose and wiped the sloppy tears from her cheeks.
She knew why Adam didn’t like the film, but she also knew why he’d become an American icon.
The harrowing journey up the mountain had only been the beginning of his ordeal that summer day twenty-three years ago. After he’d reached the top, pursued by enemy militia, he’d managed to get the radio equipment to work—the signal was just strong enough for him to contact the nearest army base, and let them know his patrol needed evacuation.
But when the helicopters had arrived to evacuate the wounded, the enemy had them surrounded—there was no way for the choppers to land without coming under fire.
Specialist Dybik had to create a diversion.
He pulled the uniform off a dead militia soldier, painted his face with mud, and snuck behind the enemy lines—into the village where the enemy soldiers were camped. Then, when the helicopters came into range, he was in perfect position to hit the militia army from behind, making them think they were under attack from the rear.
He’d dodged between the dwellings in the village, evading bullets, picking off enemy combatants while his ammunition lasted. Overhead, two Black Hawk attack helicopters provided what cover they could, strafing the enemy lines with RPG, but on the ground, Adam was on his own against an enemy platoon for almost an hour, until members of the 10th Division’s relief column landed at a nearby airstrip.
When they found him he was on a rooftop, lying dead center on an X he’d fashioned out of white sheets, bleeding from his wounds and almost out of ammunition.
At the end of the film, he walked, still limping from a wound to his femur, into the East Room of the White House to receive the highest medal the United States government could bestow.
The film portrayed him as a tough, silent soldier, a badass who mercilessly and ruthlessly ended enemy lives, a sniper who shot with deadly precision. A hero who’d do anything to save his comrades.
Ellie turned off the TV, wondering what had led Adam to risk his life repeatedly on the battlefield.
Her psychological training told her that teenagers were often unable to visualize themselves as mortal. Some turned to drugs and alcohol, others engaged in risk-taking behavior—like joining the army.
Adam had been nineteen—young enough to consider himself immortal. Yet his desire to save the others in his unit, even at the cost of his own life, was still remarkable. Any fool could be fearless, they said, but Adam was no fool. He’d done what he did because he’d known he couldn’t live with himself if he hadn’t.
Like her father, who’d failed to speak up when his best friend had been brutalized for being gay.
Then, as if she’d conjured him, her phone rang, displaying Adam’s private number. When she answered, his voice didn’t sound as upbeat as he’d sounded on the NPR clip she’d heard on the way home. He sounded tired, as if he’d been fighting enemy insurgents on the North Lawn. “I’ve had back-to-back interviews today. Trying to sell our refugee policy.”
“How’s it going?”
“Not good. I think half the cabinet wants to resign. Governors are threatening to revolt, too. I’m considering sending an army division to Fort Sumter, just in case.”
She laughed. “I hear Congress wants to shut down the government. They’re not going to pass the budget bill?”
“Not unless I back down and send that ship back to Bhotaan.”
Ellie stretched her toes toward the other end of the sofa. “You’re not going to do that, are you?”
He sighed. “You think I’m crazy to try to save these people?”
“I think that’s who you are.” She waited a beat. “I watched the film. Just now. I was wiping away the last of my tears when you called.”
She heard his sigh over the line. “Why’d you do a damn thing like that?”
“I wanted to know if you were right. If they got it all wrong.”
He laughed. “They did.”
“Did you ever watch it?”
“I read the review. A.O. Scott called it ‘sentimental rubbish.’”
“A lot of people like sentimental rubbish. It’s on Netflix.”
“Yeah, I heard. They added it around the time of the inauguration.”
“It’s got seventy-six percent on Rotten Tomatoes.”
He snorted a laugh. “That’s better than my approval ratings.”
“Has Katie seen it?”
“No, I told her it was too violent.”
“How is she?”
“I haven’t told her about her mother, if that’s what you want to know.”
“You need to tell her.” Ellie thought of the conversation she’d overheard on Katie’s birthday. “She needs to know why her mother abandoned her.”
He groaned. “I haven’t had time to even think about it. I’ve taped five interviews today. George Stephanopoulos caught me yawning.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“I’d rather talk to you.” His words sent a warm sizzle straight through her aching limbs. “How was training today?”
“I cleared the obstacle course.”
“Congratulations. I hear it’s pretty tough.”
Ellie switched the phone to her other ear. “I meant to call you…we finished our investigation. Everything Bonnie said checks out. I wanted to let you know. I think you should let her go back to the school and volunteer.”
She heard him sigh again. “Ellie…”
“And I think it would be good for Katie, to have her mother in her life.”
“You saying that as a psychologist or as Katie’s protective agent?”
“I’m saying that as your friend.”
“Is that what this is? Friendship?” His voice dropped to a lower register, as if he were trying to speak without being overheard. “I want more than friendship—in case I haven’t made that clear.”
“Oh, it’s been pretty clear, all right. Except for a brief moment when you were telling me it was all a mistake.”
“Yeah, that was my conscience speaking.”
“You should tell your conscience to shut up.”
The phone was silent, and Ellie wondered if the line had been dropped. But then he said, “We need to figure out exactly what’s going on, before we both do something we regret.”
“I haven’t regretted anything, yet.”
“I can’t say the same. Your boss would have my ass if I took away his best agent.”
“I’m not his best agent, and he might lose me anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated. Maybe it was best they were having this conversation over the phone, with the temptation to touch out of range. They could talk about exactly where this relationship—if it was that—was going. “I’m having a rethink about my career…and it’s not just you.”
“What do you mean? I thought you always wanted to be a protective agent.”
“I did…but not for the right reasons.”
“You joined because of your father. Is that the wrong reason?”
“I learned something about my father the other day.” Ellie sighed into the phone. “He never told us this, but…he had a best friend who was gay, when he was growing up. And then…this friend was murdered, by a couple of kids who’d been bullying him. My father testified in their trial, but they still walked. He blames himself.”
“That’s horrible—I can see why he hasn’t spoken about it. Must have been traumatic.” Adam’s voice was low, scratchy, as if he’d been talking too long without a lozenge. “But as a prosecutor, I can tell you, sometimes the bad guys get away with it. It sucks, but it’s all down to a jury sometimes.”
“I know. But…the thing is, that’s why he’s never been comfortable with Greg being openly gay. He thinks he’ll come to harm somehow.”
“It’s a legitimate fear.”
“Yeah, but expecting Greg to stay in the closet because of fear…that’s just…denying who he is.”
“Exactly.” Then he turned the question around: “So what is it you want to do—other than please your father?”
The answer had lain there, just beyond her vocal range, for months. But now it slipped out as a fully formed thought. “I want to work with kids. Adolescents. Being at Katie’s school, I’ve been wishing I could fix some of the problems these kids have. Adolescence is a troubling time for kids. Especially kids who don’t fit in, who aren’t normal in every way.”
“You’d be great at that.” There was a pause, but not the awkward kind. Finally he continued. “I’ve figured out a few things lately, too. About the reasons my marriage to Bonnie failed. It wasn’t just her. She walked away, but maybe she had good reasons. It took me a long time to admit that. I thought marrying her was enough. Being there for Katie. But I was never in love with her. I cared about her…the way I’d care about a three-legged kitten. She was damaged—”
“She needed saving.”
“I guess so. And I thought I could do that, by marrying her when she found out she was pregnant. But it wasn’t enough. She recognized that, and she also recognized being in that relationship wasn’t doing her any good. The pressure of being a good mother to Katie, and a good wife to me, despite the fact she was a brilliant attorney herself—it contributed to her drinking.”
“And the film…being married to an American icon.”
He groaned. “That film was an exaggeration. If they’d shown the truth…”
“What is the truth, Adam?”
“I’ll tell you…on our first date. How about that?”
“Are you asking me for a date?”
“I am.”
“That means…” Ellie tried to think, but the wine and the eleventy-million pushups and the grueling obstacle course had turned her brain to mush.
“It means you’ve got some decisions to make. Career decisions. I don’t want to be the reason you quit your job, but I also don’t want us to miss out on something that could be the best thing that ever happens to either of us.”
At his words, a quiver began deep in her midsection, touching her ovaries. Or maybe her heart.
She twirled the empty wine glass in her hand, trying to read between the lines.
His voice filled the silence. “How about we talk soon…when you’ve had some time to think, and when I’ve straightened out this Bhotaan thing.”
“And…”
He sighed, anticipating what she was about to say. “And when I’ve dealt with Katie’s mother coming back.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
But there really wasn’t a plan, because she was still a protective agent and he had an ex-wife and a revolution to deal with.
And she had another week of training before she was back on protective duty.
She groaned, turned off the television, and took her aching body to bed.