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“You’ve something to say, then say it.”
Ryder exhaled long and slow. “It wasn’t your fault, mate. You’ve got to let it go, move on with your life.”
Lachlan’s throat constricted. Ryder, of all people, knew why that was impossible. “I was in command. I trusted Nadia, and good people died.”
Beneath his shirt, the ID disc branded his flesh.
Chapter Two
OldTownAlexandria,Virginia,a suburb of Washington, DC
Sophia Russo opened the door to her Old Town condo to find none other than her best friend Emily’s father, Admiral Porter Dane, on the other side.
“Admiral Dane. I didn’t know you were in town.” She turned her cheek automatically for his fatherly peck. “Sal didn’t call up to tell me you were here.”
Tall, with regulation-length salt and pepper hair and a trim mustache, the recently retired four-star admiral radiated intelligence and the kind of authority that made people—her included—instinctively stand straighter in his presence. It was an aura his casual ensemble of khaki trousers and neatly tucked blue button-down couldn’t disguise.
The admiral wrapped her in a hug. “Sal knows me.”
Sophia suppressed a grin. Of course the security guard downstairs knew Admiral Dane and would let him pass. He left an impression. And he’d been here before, when his daughter Emily shared the condo with Sophia before she’d been assigned to her embassy position in Paris. “Back in DC so soon?”
“I had a meeting. It’s not too early, is it? I know you were taking this week off before you start your new job.”
If he’d been fifteen minutes earlier, he would have caught her in her pajamas, her shoulder-length auburn hair a rat’s nest of tangles. She let out a subtle sigh of relief that she had things to get accomplished today and decided on an early start. “It’s fine. I just made coffee, want some?”
“Love some.” He followed her to her galley kitchen, where she poured two mugs of the coffee she’d brewed. Leaving his black as he preferred, she added a splash of half and half to hers.
“Muffin? I have blueberry.” When he shook his head and demurred, she handed him his mug and led him into her living room.
Her open floorplan, combined with light oak floors, white walls, and the sliding glass doors to her fifth-floor balcony, gave the room a bright and airy feel, with plenty of natural sunlight. She sat on her white couch, tucking one of the oversized floral pillows behind her back, and set her mug on the glass and chrome coffee table. The admiral took a seat in one of the club chairs upholstered in narrow pinstripes of lavender and pastel pink.
The aesthetic was clean but feminine and welcoming rather than sterile—a sharp contrast to her childhood home in Cincinnati, filled with heavy, traditional décor and dark stained hardwoods.
“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” She curled her jean-clad legs and bare feet beneath her on the cushion.
He cocked a brow to match the slight tilt of his lips. “You’re starting an exciting new job on Monday. Director of Legislative Affairs for Landry Associates International. I thought I’d congratulate you in person.”
A genuine smile raised her cheeks. “I really appreciate your glowing recommendation.”
A small company with a big footprint, LAI oversaw several US Government-funded development projects in Afghanistan. Her former job as a legislative aide for Congressman Kellerman had given her a sense of purpose, a way to make a difference in the world. But she’d been a worker bee, one of many. LAI was her chance to prove her worth and make the legislation she’d helped craft come to fruition through real, tangible projects. New schools, health clinics, the creation of a civic and judicial framework that fostered opportunities for the women and children in Afghanistan’s largely conservative, tribal society.
The admiral waved away her thanks. “I know you can do the work. LAI’s opening was the perfect fit.” He took a sip of his coffee, his gunmetal blue eyes gazing at her with a directness that tightened her shoulders. “And I trust you.”
Sophia picked up her mug, cradling its warmth in her suddenly cold palms. Her mind raced at the wealth of meaning behind those simple words. The admiral’s faith in her meant more than he realized and warmed a neglected part of her soul. But the way he’d saidI trust youhad her instincts on alert. “Trust me to do what?”
Admiral Dane set down his coffee and leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs, hands loosely clasped in front of his knees. “A friend of mine believes an Afghan warlord may be obtaining brand new weapons and materiel directly from a US source and selling them to the Taliban and ISIS.”
She frowned. By “friend,” he meant someone in one of the alphabet agencies—CIA, DIA, NSA, DOJ, FBI. The admiral had connections everywhere. “That’s terrible, but I don’t understand what that has to do with my new job lobbying Congress for LAI’s development projects.”
His commanding stare held her hostage. “I want you to keep your eyes and ears open at LAI and report directly to me if you discover anything out of the ordinary.”
Her eyes flew wide, a knot forming in her stomach that didn’t sit well with the coffee. “Are you telling me LAI is selling weapons illegally?” Why hadn’t he told her this before she accepted the job?
Her heart sank. The father figure had taken a backseat to the Navy SEAL who’d worked his way into the rarified air of senior flag officer using both leadership skills and political savvy. Emily often complained her father was a master strategist who considered everyone a potential pawn on his grand chessboard. “You’re asking me to spy on my new colleagues.”
She must have gone paper white because the admiral placed his mug on the coffee table and reached for her icy fingers. “It might not be someone at LAI. No one has to know.”
No onecouldknow, or she’d be out of a job and her career in tatters like a confetti bomb at a gender reveal.