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The Final Secret. Cassie MilesЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Final Secret - Cassie Miles


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course.”

      “I hate baboons.” The general scowled. “She was mad because I wouldn’t approve her return to active duty. After the bomb, she looked like hell. I couldn’t allow her to put herself in harm’s way, couldn’t stand to see her hurt again.”

      “She’s made a successful recovery,” Noah said. A remarkable woman.

      “You don’t have a problem with her special condition?”

      He didn’t intend to say too much about Gennie’s insensitivity to pain and her nerve damage. If she wanted to talk about her two years of operations, hard work and physical therapy with the general, that was her business. “The ARC doctor gave her a complete physical and rated her above average.”

      At the opposite end of the room, Gennie was paying particular attention to the floral arrangement beside the podium where the guest of honor, Mitch Murano, would be speaking. She leaned close to the thick green foliage, yellow flowers and dark red roses. Pulling back, she scowled at the posies as though they’d done something wrong. From there, she went to the silent auction tables where a variety of items were lined up side by side. Again, she inspected the flowers. She straightened her shoulders and made a beeline for him and the general.

      The burly general who had commanded thousands of troops in Iraq and Afghanistan gave a shudder. “Do you think she’s still angry?”

      “You’re not scared of her, are you, General?”

      “Don’t let those big blue eyes fool you. Pretty little Gennie is lethal. A few years ago, I saw her take down a trained combatant twice her size using only a broom handle for a weapon.”

      “I’m aware,” Noah said. “Four days ago, she kicked my ass.”

      When she came to a halt in front of them, she raised her right hand so quickly that he thought for a moment that she was going to salute, even though the general wasn’t in uniform and she was no longer a soldier. Or maybe she was going for a karate chop. Instead, she opted for a civilized handshake and a tentative smile.

      “A pleasure to see you, sir.”

      “Likewise,” he said. “Noah tells me that you’re working for him.”

      “I am. And I have a security question about the floral displays. Should I speak to you about my concerns?”

      “Not me. I don’t know a damn thing about the decorations.”

      “Your wife?”

      “Ruby didn’t have anything to do with tonight. She’s not even going to be here.”

      His wife’s absence seemed odd to Noah. The spectacularly beautiful Ruby Haymarket usually grabbed any chance to break out the tiara and be the belle of the ball.

      “I’ll miss her,” Gennie said. “I hope she’s not ill.”

      “Fit as a fiddle and feisty, too. Her problem is that she doesn’t share my political views. I believe Mitch Murano will make a damn fine senator. Ruby thinks he’s a con man.”

      The general’s wife had a point. In Noah’s opinion, Murano had perfected the art of playing both sides against each other. While vigorously supporting gun rights, Murano ran a worldwide institute encouraging peaceful meditation and enlightenment. His detractors referred to his seesaw policies as NRA Namaste.

      The general signaled to a man with a clipboard. “You remember Captain Dean Slocum, don’t you? He handled the food and decorations for this fund-raiser.”

      Slocum strutted toward them. His uniform was crisp. His grooming was perfect with his close-cropped pale blond hair as smooth as a platinum skull cap. He was so white that he was nearly albino. In the midst of bustling caterers and waiters making last minute preparations, Slocum appeared to be in control. He’d been the general’s right-hand man for a long time and had grown smug in his job.

      His sneering attitude wasn’t the only reason Noah disliked the captain. After he shook Slocum’s hand, he started to introduce Gennie.

      “We’re acquainted,” she said coldly.

      “I’ve known her for years.” Slocum matched her coolness with an ice storm of his own. “Gennie’s a hero and has the Purple Heart to prove it.”

      She flinched. Though she didn’t feel pain in a third of her body, Noah could see that her memories of combat and working in a war zone still hurt. The nightmares and the guilt were harder to cure than physical impairments.

      The general spoke to the captain. “Gennie has questions about the flowers, and I told her to ask you about them.”

      “No problem.”

      “I’ll leave you to it. Gennie, I hope we can talk later.” He backed out of the conversation. “Right now, I’d better run upstairs and get changed.”

      “Give Ruby my regards,” she said with a smile that faded as she turned back to Slocum. “When you ordered the arrangements, did you specify colors or types of flowers?”

      “No.” With the general gone, Slocum didn’t bother to hide his hostility. His blue eyes narrowed to slits in his colorless face. “I told them that the flowers were for a fund-raiser and gave them the size and number of the arrangements. When I mentioned Mitch Murano, the flower people were thrilled. He’s a celebrity. I hope he brings his supermodel girlfriend. Have you ever seen her?”

      “I don’t know who she is or what she looks like,” Gennie said.

      “Of course not. It’s obvious that you aren’t interested in fashion. My question is, why the hell are you making trouble?”

      “About the flowers,” she said, “you didn’t request yellow oleander, pink rhododendron and hemlock branches. Is that correct?”

      “I already said I didn’t.” He flipped through his clipboard, made a note and tore off a scrap of paper, which he tossed to her. “This is the florist. If you need more details, call them.”

      “I will.” She pulled out her cell phone and stepped aside.

      Slocum pivoted on his heel so he was facing toward Noah again. “You need to keep your people in line, and I’m not just talking about Gennie. I have a problem with your man at the front entrance.”

      Shrugging off his irritation with Slocum’s tone, Noah remained professional. “Which man at the entrance?”

      “The pretty boy, he said his name was Tony Vega and claimed that his orders were to set up a metal detector. That’s a waste of time. Some of the people coming to this event are military and could be in full dress uniform, possibly including sabers. Others are ranchers who routinely carry guns. These are rich men, powerful men, and they won’t give a damn if they set off a beeper. No way will they surrender their weapons.”

      Providing security for people who refused to disarm made Noah’s job more difficult, but he wasn’t responsible for this particular scan. “Talk to the general about disarming his guests. He specifically asked for the metal detector.”

      “And I’m telling you to take it down.”

      Seriously? This pencil-neck geek thought he could overrule the general? “I won’t do it without written authorization to change the terms of our contract.”

      “Fine.” He flipped to a blank page on his clipboard and started writing.

      “What’s the deal with this event?” In normal circumstances, Noah would have covered this fund-raiser with five or six operatives, but the general requested twelve, including outdoor surveillance. “Is there something we need to be aware of? Have you received threats?”

      “Not your problem, Noah.”

      The hell it wasn’t. Managing the danger level was the very definition of protective security. “I’ll take this up with the general.”

      “Wait!”


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