The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(29)

Hammond cleared his throat. “You and your mom are my everything,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “Everything I do, I do it for you, and for people and families like us all over this great country of ours. You know that, yes?”

A true politician, she thought, but knowing there was some truth in what he was saying. Maybe she’d been a little unfair with her dad, too quick to rebuke. She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it.

“But that won’t work for me, Dad,” she replied. “You’re asking me to put my life on hold for eight to twelve years. Does that seem fair to you?”

Her father sighed heavily. “Of course it isn’t, Vonnie,” he said, startling her. “It’s not right for me to ask you to put everything aside for me. But will you at least consider postponing the release of the new version of Drain until next year? It would give us some time to figure how to work out your protection with the Secret Service.”

For a man who had run the most secretive and lethal entity of the United States military, her father didn’t seem to grasp how the corporate world worked.

“I can’t promise you that,” she replied. “SkyCU has spent a fortune on Drain. They’ll push the app out as soon as it’s ready.”

“I see,” Hammond replied with a certain sadness in his voice.

“But,” Veronica added, once again squeezing his hand. “What I can promise you is that I’ll postpone my own travel until we can figure out how I can do so safely. What about that?”

Her father laid his other hand on top of hers and gave her half a smile, but it was forced.

“Sure,” he said, standing up.

She thought he would have been thrilled with her proposition. She couldn’t see what was wrong with it. Drain would be out, but she wouldn’t be traveling until she received the go-ahead from the Secret Service. She didn’t understand his guarded reaction.

“I want you to spend the night here on base,” he said. “I’ve instructed half of my protective detail to take care of you. You’ll be safe here, I promise.”

“I appreciate that, Dad, I really do, but I can’t stay here. I have a meeting in Palo Alto tomorrow.”

“Well, Veronica, you’ll have to cancel. You’re staying here for now,” he replied dryly. “Tomorrow morning, investigators from the FBI and the Secret Service will speak with you about what happened in San Francisco.”

She nodded. There was no point in arguing further. She had her laptop with her and would connect with her team at SkyCU remotely if she had to.

“I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” he said, heading toward the door.

“Dad?”

He stopped and turned to face her.

“About Clay,” she said. “Can you—”

“There’s nothing I can do to help him,” he said, cutting her off.

“That can’t be true,” Veronica said. “You’re about to become the vice president of the United States.”

“And that’s exactly why I can’t do a thing.”

“Oh, c’mon, Dad, that’s bullshit,” she said. “I wouldn’t be here with you right now if it wasn’t for Clay. And he’s my fiancé. Please do something, at least about the charges you talked about.”

Her father shook his head slowly. “If you had come to me twenty-four hours ago, I would have been in a position to help. Clayton would have been reassigned. Now that the investigation has started, my hands are tied.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling you’re saying this because you’re ticked off Clay didn’t come to you first. Because he didn’t ask you permission to marry me.”

“No, Veronica,” he said, his tone turning paternalistic, as if she were still a little girl. It made her blood boil beneath her skin. “I’m angry because by acting the way he did, notwithstanding how he handled himself once the shit hit the fan, he compromised his team and jeopardized the security of the person he was sworn to protect. And in this instance, it was you. My only daughter. He needs to face the consequences.”

She stared at him long and hard, not recognizing fully the man standing in front of her. She could feel that her father wasn’t being completely straightforward with her. For a fleeting moment, there was an expression of regret on his face. Then he turned away and strode out of the aircraft.



Alexander Hammond was fuming as he climbed back into his SUV. His daughter had no idea the shit her goddamn Drain application was stirring. Why did everything these days have to be crowdsourced and crowdfunded? Some technology was better off staying controlled by those who knew how to use it, not available to the masses.

Hammond didn’t remember the last time he’d been under such pressure.

“Where to, sir?” his driver asked.

“Back to my plane,” he replied. “We’re headed to San Francisco.”

Hammond grabbed his phone and quickly typed a message to General Tom Girdner, a longtime friend and associate who was now the provost marshal general of the United States Army. Hammond had always wished he wouldn’t have to go ahead with this, but his stubborn daughter had left him no choice.

He tapped the send button. His phone rang almost immediately.

“I’m listening, Tom,” Hammond said.