The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(27)
It made her nauseous to think that she had fought Clay about the number of men he wanted to bring along. She had even threatened to relinquish protection if he continued to push for a bigger protective detail, afraid of what her academic friends would think of her. These folks didn’t live in the same world her dad and Clay did. It was their night, and she hadn’t wanted to make a big show, or to draw too much attention for the wrong reason. Her insides were churning, and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick. She took a deep breath to quell the feeling.
“You’re okay, ma’am?” the agent asked. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said—”
She raised her hand. “No, thank you. Thank you for what you do . . . what’s your name, again?”
“Jeremy, ma’am. Jeremy Myers.”
“Well, thank you, Special Agent Myers,” Veronica said. “And I’m sorry for the loss of your friends and colleagues.”
“We’ll get whoever did that,” Myers replied through clenched teeth as the plane slowly came to a stop inside the hangar.
Veronica nodded. Clay had promised her the same thing.
Outside the plane, she saw a Humvee with flashing orange emergency lights leading a small motorcade of three identical black SUVs.
Vice President-Elect Alexander Hammond had arrived.
Bottle of water in hand, she got up from her seat, squeezed past Myers, and walked to the back of the Gulfstream to use the lavatory, her stomach heaving with each step. She locked the door behind her and pressed her back against it. She wasn’t ready to see her father. Not yet. The faces of the agents who’d been killed at the Ritz-Carlton were the only things occupying her mind. She felt hot tears behind her eyelids. She hadn’t known the agents well, yet they had sacrificed their lives for her. They had given up everything, absolutely everything, in order for her to live. What kind of men did that? She wasn’t worthy of such sacrifice. She clamped her eyes shut, emotions caught in her throat, warm tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Heroes do that,” she whispered to herself. She wiped the tears away angrily, as if she was mad at them for their audacity at falling.
I should have taken the time to learn more about them, about their families, she thought. I didn’t even know most of their names.
She had taken them for granted. And it was true for Clay too. It wasn’t until today that she had truly realized how much he meant to her. She was an idiot. How had she been so blind? She looked down at the ring on her finger and lightly touched it. She wished he was here now, with her.
Veronica glanced at her reflection in the small mirror above the sink. She grimaced at the darker patches of skin around her neck. Her eyes were puffy and sad. Her brown hair hung limp around her shoulders. She turned on the water faucet by pressing the blue and red buttons and then squirted the cheap soap into the palm of her hand. She scrubbed her hands, picking at some imaginary dirt beneath her nails. When the water stopped, she repeated the process. Then she washed her face and tied her hair into a bun, pushing away a few strands from her eyes. On her left, above the roll of toilet paper, was an alcove with courtesy bags stacked on top of each other and secured with a blue rubber band. She grabbed one of the bags and yanked the zipper open. Inside were a toothbrush, a minuscule tube of toothpaste, a pair of earplugs, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, two Tylenols, and a condom.
She opened the Tylenol packet, put the two pills in her mouth, and swallowed them with some water from her bottle. She then brushed her teeth and drank more water. By the time she was done, she was feeling much better, but angrier too. She needed answers, and by God she was going to get them.
When she came out of the lavatory, there wasn’t anyone left on the plane.
Except for her dad.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Naval Air Station Fort Worth, Texas
Veronica’s father enveloped her in his arms and didn’t let go for a long time. When she looked at him, she could see that tears had collected in his eyes.
“I’m so happy you’re okay, Vonnie,” Alexander Hammond said. He kissed her on the forehead, just as he used to do before tucking her into bed when she was still a child.
Veronica was genuinely happy to see him. Since she was a kid, she’d been the apple of her father’s eye, and until very recently, she’d always enjoyed a close relationship with him. She wouldn’t have become the woman she was now if it hadn’t been for her father’s love and unyielding support. Despite being absent from home a lot due to the relentless pace of the deployments, he’d managed to have her back when it counted the most. The only hiccup had been recently, when he’d started expressing his strong opposition to anything even remotely connected to Drain. She’d attributed some of it to the stress of the presidential campaign and his natural worries for his family’s safety; she’d hoped his objections would fade, but now she tensed, prepared for his chastisement.
“They told you what happened?” she asked.
Her dad’s face hardened, and his eyes grew dark. “Yes,” he said. “I was briefed.”
He motioned for her to take a seat across from him, which she did. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and loosened his tie before sitting down. “There’s a whole bunch of people who want to speak to you,” her father said. “And time is of the essence here.”