Cloud Dust: RD-1 (R-D #1)(6)

Are you still writing?

If I can stop answering nosy messages, lmao.

All right, already. Bye, Cori.

Bye, James.

I didn't fool myself—James might be considered a friend, but I had no doubt where his loyalties lay. If asked, he'd shoot me without a second thought and cry over my novels later.

*

Notes, Colonel Hunter

"The President will see you, now, Colonel."

It had taken exactly four hours to get an appointment with the President when I called a second time. She was taking an interest in every part of the Program, looked like. Since General Edwards' death, it had likely been on her mind often. Hugh Lawrence likely wanted Edwards' job, so the Program was responsible for jealousy and murder.

"Madam President," I nodded respectfully to her. She extended her hand and we shook. "Colonel, have a seat," she gestured toward a guest chair in the Oval Office. I waited for her to sit behind the desk, first.

"I understand you have some concerns?" she asked immediately. I noticed she was toying with a gold pen on her desk instead of looking at me. Not a good sign.

"Not concerns exactly," I said. "Just curiosity, mostly, and I wanted to bring my findings to you, first." I wasn't about to point out that I didn't trust the Joint Chiefs at all, and they wouldn't listen, anyway.

"What do you have?" She looked at me then, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I have this file," I laid it on her desk.

"That's a file on Hugh Lawrence." She'd lowered her eyes just long enough to catch the name on the folder before coming back to me.

"That's true, ma'am. His death coincides with this." I pulled the flash drive from my pocket and laid it on the President's desk.

*

"I don't want to alarm her or raise suspicion," the President said as she walked me toward the door. "Just tell her that I want all of them together, in case there's an emergency. It's my decision, after all, and nobody else's. Make sure she knows nothing of this," she handed the file back to me. "If this theory has any merit, I want to know about it."

"Yes, Madam President. How quickly do you want her at the Mansion?"

"Tonight."

"I'll make arrangements immediately."

*

Corinne

"Is this because I wrote lmao in a message?" I asked when August Hunter and the movers stalked into my new house. "What will the neighbors think?"

"Corinne, the President asked me to bring you in. She's still spooked about Edwards' death, and she guards this secret better than they guard Fort Knox."

"Great," I hunched my shoulders.

"Don't worry—just pack your laptop. These guys will take care of everything else."

"That's what worries me," I pointed out. "I just had my desktop hooked up," I added petulantly.

"Cori, we already have everything on it. Your book is safe."

"That's what worries me," I repeated. "What about the Five? Won't they take umbrage?"

"I only use my umbrage when it rains."

"Very funny. It's too late for that, Colonel. I don't know where you got that joke, but you really ought to give it back."

"Corinne, see reason," he turned dark eyes on me. "The President ordered this, and I can't refuse that order. I'll do my best to see that the Five leave you alone. I have a suite waiting on the third floor—they're on the fourth. You have a kitchen—they don't. I'll have somebody run errands for you, and I'll even request an assistant. I can't guarantee that the expense will be approved, but I promise I'll ask."

"But I'll still be just as trapped."

"I'll ask James to make himself available if you really need to go out. You'll have another guard with you, but that ought to be enough. Don't have a panic attack," he held up a hand. Yes, my breathing had gone rough and labored.

"Too late," I wheezed.

*

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"What did you think would happen?" Dr. Shaw snapped. I'd called him first thing after the medics arrived. Corinne ended up riding to the Mansion in the back of a military ambulance.

"She was held hostage by terrorists. Couldn't escape. Remember, I suggested that she be allowed outside the walls in the first place," Shaw continued. "This isn't good for her; you know that. At least keep the bullies away from her."

"I'll do what I can." If Shaw meant to hand me a verbal beating, he was doing a good job of it. The bullies, as he put it, could find a way to get to her, no matter how closely she was watched.

"How goes it with the new one?" Shaw had heard about the Blacksmith.

"No change, yet," I reported. "But it's only been twenty-four hours. After forty-eight, we'll have a better idea."

"Not sure how I feel about it," he said.

"I know."

*

Corinne

Everybody at the Mansion knew of my arrival.

They also knew of my method of arrival.

It was the wimpiest way anybody could get there—by ambulance.

I imagined the Five staring through fourth-floor windows as I was unloaded on a stretcher, protesting the whole time that I could walk.