The bus was silent for a few minutes then Dar’s mother peeked over her sketch pad and shook her head. “Out like a light.” Ceci laughed softly. “What did you give her?”

Andrew juggled the small bottle, then tossed it to her. “Don’t know, but they put me out, so I figgured they’d work on her too.”

Cecilia reviewed the label. “Muscle relaxant and painkiller.” She looked up at her husband. “Hope they wear off before the ceremony or you’ll be up there by yourself, sailor boy.”

Andrew ambled over and sat down next to her, laced his fingers together and cocked his head at her drawing. “Kid was stiffer than a board. I figured a catnap was a good idea. What is that?”

Ceci tilted the pad. “It’s that platform outside.”

Andy grunted. “It’s empty.”

His wife smiled. “It won’t be for long.”

THE WIND HAD died down, and the late afternoon sun had come out in full force, warmly lighting the platform now decorated with red, white, and blue bunting. Staff had set chairs in place as well, and dignitaries were gathered, networking together and sharing cups of distilled water while the television crews warmed up their equipment.

At last, it was time and everyone took their seats. Kerry tucked her feet under her in the somewhat uncomfortable chair in the front row of the audience and fastened her eyes on the two figures at one end of the platform’s plusher chairs.

Andrew was seated with military erectness, even though he was dressed in dark blue denims and one of his hooded sweatshirts instead of a uniform. His hands were folded in his lap and he faced forward, but his eyes flicked everywhere, watching the crowd, the dignitaries, and the security officers.

Dar looked… Kerry sighed. Her beloved friend looked like she’d just woken up, a fair statement since she practically had, and her eyes had a faintly dazed look about them as she peered around idly. “I think Dar’s toast.”

“Mmm,” Ceci agreed wryly. “I told Andy he shouldn’t have given her two of those pills. He takes them, but he forgets he’s twice her size.”


432 Melissa Good She sighed. “Poor kid.”

“Well,” Kerry analyzed, “at least she’s not nervous.” She casually turned her head and reviewed the crowd, unsurprised, but disappointed not to see her family there.

The television crew gave a signal and the mayor stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat self-importantly. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me here on the Mall for a celebration of gratitude to people, ordinary people, who risked their lives to save the lives of their fellow men.”

The crowd applauded wildly.

He thanked the police next, and the firefighters, and gave out a plaque to the fire company who had rescued them from the building.

Kerry smiled at that, glad to see they’d gotten some recognition. Then the mayor made a long, somewhat boring speech about how terrorists only succeeded when they inspired terror.

“Duh,” Ceci and Kerry managed to say at the same time.

And that the city would never bow to that kind of pressure, being the capital of the land of the brave, and all that patriotic stuff. Kerry, having heard political speeches all her life, tuned most of it out. She knew the mayor was up for re-election this year and most of the speech was directed more towards raising his polls than celebrating heroes.

At last, it was over, and he cleared his throat, carefully arranging two velvet cases resting on the podium.

Ceci nudged Kerry, spotting a familiar figure making his way towards the mayor. “Hey.”

Kerry was very surprised to see her father there. “What on earth is he doing?”

Roger Stuart arrived next to the mayor and straightened his jacket with a smooth motion. The mayor turned and gave him a welcoming smile.

“Senator Stuart has asked, since his was one of the lives affected by the rescue, that he be allowed to present the medals. I am honored to turn the podium over to him.”

“What?” Kerry blurted, almost falling off her chair.

“Shh. Take it easy,” Ceci whispered, as her husband and daughter exchanged identical, startled looks.

Roger Stuart placed his hands on either side of the podium and acknowledged the applause. “Thank you.” He had a low, powerful voice.

“It has been a hard, anxious week for us all.”

Applause.

“But through it, strangers and friends, family and adversaries, have come together to save lives, and push past the normal, everyday disagreements to work together in what was, without doubt, a horrible tragedy.”

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” Kerry muttered.

“When my wife and I were trapped inside that building, we thought our lives were at an end. Instead, through the courage of the two people Eye of the Storm 433

we’re here to honor today, our lives were saved, along with those of seven helpless children and many others.”

“I think Dar’s going to lose her lunch,” Ceci commented. “I seem to remember that particular look on her face.”

“Oh yeah,” Kerry agreed. “Hope she waits till she’s up there to do that.” Her voice took on an edge of anger. “I can’t believe he’s cheapening this just for his own publicity.”

“Kerry,” Cecilia watched her husband and daughter stand when Stuart called their names, “maybe this is the only way he has of saying thank you, without having to say it.”

Andrew and Dar walked quietly across the platform, their steps slightly hollow on the wooden boards. Dar was a half step behind her father and she stood, her hands braced behind her back in a very military, but very unconscious pose as the gleaming, golden medal was lifted up and settled over Andrew’s close cropped head.

“Good job.” Roger Stuart held a hand out, his eyes meeting Andy’s.

“Thank you, Commander.”

“You’re welcome, Senator,” Andrew replied in a quiet voice. Then he stepped back and glanced to his right, where Dar was waiting.

Stuart was very lucky, Dar considered, that the drugs still in her system put a slightly hazy barrier between herself and her instinct to kick him in the groin. Right there on national TV.

“Ms. Roberts?” Stuart opened the second case and removed the medal. Dar forced herself forward, aware of the camera eyes leering at her greedily, and stood absolutely still as his hands came close to her, lifting above either side of her face to settle the ribbon over her neck.

For a bare instant, their eyes met.

“Good job,” the senator stated flatly. Then his gaze wavered. “Thank you, Dar.”

She was too shocked to even raise an eyebrow.

“And thank you for being such a good friend to my daughter, as well,” the senator finished, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, there on television, and in front of a thousand watchers, as his words echoed softly over the grass.

Into the tense silence, Dar said, “You’re welcome.”

The crowd applauded and stood and cheered. Roger Stuart nodded briskly, lifting a hand and waving it as he turned and walked off the platform.

Andrew retreated in the other direction, holding Dar by the elbow as they headed towards the steps leading down, to a crowd already clustering and press calling questions. “Son of a biscuit,” he uttered under his breath.

Dar merely exhaled.


Chapter

Forty-seven

THE BOARDROOM WAS quiet as Alastair froze the image on the screen of Dar gracefully ducking her head to receive her medal. He turned in his chair and folded his hands, gazing amiably down the table at the six men seated around it. “Well now, gentlemen. I believe the next item on the agenda was a request from Mr. Ankow regarding dismissing our Ms. Roberts there.”

Ankow gave him a disgusted look. “Don’t think that bullshit changes anything, McLean.”

“Doesn’t it?” Alastair asked mildly, gazing down the table and judg-ing the temper of its occupants. Instead of the hot anger of the previous days, there was now more bemusement looking back at him. “Well, I don’t know, David. I might find it a little hard to explain to the press, much less the stockholders, why I’d do something as stupid as let go someone who is as obviously valuable as Ms. Roberts. You want to give it a try?”

“That doesn’t change what she is. Or what’s going on between her and that Stuart woman.” Ankow stood and pointed.

“David, siddown,” Evans muttered.

“What?”

“Siddown,” the financial magnate said more forcefully. “Much as I hate to admit this,” he looked at Alastair, “and I do hate it, I want you to know that, Alastair. I think the fact that you let this go on is reprehensi-ble.”

The CEO shrugged one shoulder.

“But to do something now would be stock market suicide,” Evans continued. “And I think we all know that.”

Alastair nodded gravely. “Very true. The press office tells me they’ve gotten a ton of requests for interviews with Dar and everyone wants details. Now, I can happily go on the record about her achieve-ments here at the company.” He paused. “And they’ve been very extensive.”

Ankow slapped the table in disgust.

“Well, honestly, David. They have,” Alastair protested. “I’m not making it all up, y’know. It’s in her files. Read them for yourself.”

“We have. It’s the reason we’re all sitting here, instead of out with Eye of the Storm 435

the stockholders demanding a vote on ousting you,” Evans told the CEO

with startling honesty. “You think I want to look like an asshole when I have to explain why I want a top ranked employee with a commendation list the length of my arm tossed out? Just because she’s gay?”

“Just?” Ankow taunted. “I can see the backpedaling now, Evans.

You’re a gutless coward.”

“No, just a realistic one.” The financier turned on him. “I don’t need the boycotts and the bad press. Maybe someone like you, who already has a White Knight skeleton in his closet doesn’t care about that, but I do.”

Ankow’s eyes narrowed. “Bastard.”

“And having it made public you were working for Stuart’s father…well, there’s no way we can make that look good, David,”

Alastair mentioned. “I can see public sympathy being with Kerry, after all, she’s just stood up to the man, then we find out he was undermining her at work, as well as having had her thrown in the hospital. It’s just bad press.”

“Yeah? How’s the press going to respond to knowing ILS found that information out about Stuart’s father?” Ankow countered, but his confidence was slipping and it showed.

Another shrug. “Well, really, it was our duty to disclose the information if it came to our knowledge,” Alastair remarked. “If you want to look at it that way. We provided a public service.”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“Y’know,” Yves Gallreus, heretofore completely silent, now spoke up, “it occurs to me we come out of this quite golden, Alastair. Now that the hearing has been pushed back, our reputation for fairness, for good works, for innovation. It is very striking.”

“Yes, it is,” Alastair agreed gravely, with a tiny twinkle in his eye.

“You really believe that?” Ankow stood up again.

“But of course.” Yves shrugged. “It is always you are thinking about sex here in America. Quite extraordinary, you know? But look, we have provided a good service in the ATM crisis, our new network is much praised, and our employee is accepting medals for bravery on the television. I am not surprised if our stock does not double before the end of the week. So please, why are we sitting here?”

They all looked at him. The Frenchman lifted both hands, assuming a mild expression.

“So you don’t care that this dyke is running your company?”

Ankow’s face was red. “Or that she’s sleeping with her assistant?”

“Not at all,” Yves replied. “Just so long as she provides me with stock splits, why should I give a care to her sexual exploits? Is she perhaps to make a movie of them, to sell at the next stockholder meeting? It would certainly make it more exciting, no?” He glanced down the table.

“Alastair, I am so sorry I missed the last meeting. It seems I would have been much amused by it.”

“So am I, Yves.” Alastair appreciated the Continental viewpoint very much. “Well, gentlemen, I think we’re finished here, unless someone else 436 Melissa Good has further points to raise. Do we want to take a vote on the last motion?”

Silence answered him. “Very well then.” Alastair folded his hands with a satisfied look. “David, you’ve demanded we put the question to the general stockholders at the next meeting whether to retain Dar’s services.”