Page 1 of A More Perfect Union

Chapter One

The 747 pitchedand rocked, sending several carry-on bags flying. Some of the passengers criedout while others clutched their armrests, but Zoey merely shook her head andmethodically clipped her seat belt in place. The flight attendant in firstclass urged everyone to remain calm, but when she almost fell forward into theseat in front of her while delivering the admonition, her words did little tocalm the passengers.

Zoey turned to herseatmate whose face had taken on a gray tinge. “It’s just turbulence. We’llprobably be through it soon.” He grimaced his reply, and Zoey offered anencouraging smile.

The flight attendantclapped her on the shoulder. “Thanks for the assist, Major. If only everyonehad your stomach for rough flying.”

Zoey smiled. “This isnothing compared to hitching a ride in a C-17 into Kandahar.”

“You’re made oftougher stuff than most.” She stuck out her hand. “Karen Birch. Thanks for yourservice.”

“My pleasure.” Thewords were rote, but she meant them. Zoey grasped Karen’s hand, taking note sheheld on for a few seconds past casual. When Karen left to take her seat, Zoeyrelaxed into the cushioned first class seat, as much as possible in her stiffArmy blues. It wasn’t customary to dress out for commercial flights, but herorders had been clear, and now she was thankful her uniform had garnered theupgrade. The pallor of the guy in the window seat next to her finally returnedto normal, and he pulled his laptop from a bag under the seat along with astack of folders. When he bumped into her arm, he apologized.

“I have a meetingwith Senator Barstow as soon as this flight lands,” he said. “Better startpreparing for it.”

Zoey nodded, herthoughts already focused on her own meeting in the hours ahead. She’d beensummoned from her base in Texas, but her orders said only to report to GeneralBloomfield at the Pentagon. She’d known better than to ask for details from hercommanding officer. He’d been only too glad to be rid of her after the eventsof the last few months. Frankly, she’d been relieved to get away from the toxicatmosphere at her base, but feared she might be headed to stormier waters.

Deep in thought, shebarely noticed when Mr. Window Seat tapped her shoulder. She turned toward him,and her gaze followed his finger, pointed at the screen of his laptop. “Hey,isn’t that you?”

She stared at theofficial press photo, which reflected a younger looking, more naive version ofthe soldier she was now, and forced herself to remain calm as she read thecaption.Whistleblower Major Zoey Granger, USA, is scheduled to testifybefore Congress next week regarding pay to play scandal involving Nine TechInc.

“Yes.”

There was more, a lotmore. The guy scrolled down the page, gulping in all the information—some fact,some fiction—but all of it life-altering, not only for her, but also for thedozen soldiers who’d been implicated in the scheme along with their civiliancohorts. They were all facing dishonorable discharge, prison, or both, whileshe’d simply been ostracized and forced to shoulder the weight of choosingbetween country and her fellow soldiers. The last few months had been hell.She’d been called back to Fort Hood to face her superiors and submit to endlessinterviews that felt more like interrogations, and now she was being summonedby both the Pentagon brass and the Senate Committee on Armed Services.

She shouldn’t besurprised to be recognized, even here at forty thousand feet. Her CO hadpointed out, in extremely colorful language, that as a result of herdisloyalty, she could expect the spotlight of attention and scrutiny for therest of her military career, however long that may be. His implication was far fromsubtle, but she had no intention of seeking a discharge, especially when she’donly been doing her job. The contractors who’d bribed her peers and thesoldiers who’d compromised their mission were the ones who should pay, and ifshe went down with them, then it would have to be because she was forced out.She’d started her career with the end goal of retiring as one of a few femalegenerals. If the Army wanted to kill her dreams, she’d fight them every step ofthe way.

The turbulencefinally abated and the plane settled into a comfortable cruising altitudetoward DC. The flight attendant, Karen, who’d been strapped in during the worstof it, walked back down the aisle encouraging passengers to keep their seatbelts fastened should the winds kick up again. She stopped by Zoey’s seat andbent down close. “Major, may I buy you a drink?”

Zoey recognized thesubtle flirtation and shook her head. “Besides, I thought drinks in first classwere on the house.”

“They are, but Iwasn’t talking about right now.” With the ease of a practiced flirt, Karenslipped a small folded piece of paper into Zoey’s seat back pocket. “I’ll be intown for a couple of days.” She straightened. “I meant what I said earlier.Your service is much appreciated. And thanks for standing up for what’s right.”

Zoey nodded herresponse, noting several other passengers had perked up at the attendant’s lastwords and wishing she could melt into the seat. She’d have plenty of attentionfocused on her over the next few weeks, but right now she craved the peace andsolitude of this cross-country flight.

When Karen moved onto check on the remaining first class passengers, Zoey pulled a book from hersmall carry-on and pretended to read as a way of cutting off questions andconversation, but the attendant’s words nagged at her. Standing up for what’sright. That was exactly what she’d done, but nothing about the fallout hadreinforced her expectation that honor was an act to be rewarded. As the wordson the page blurred, her mind drifted to the paper Karen had tucked into theseat back pocket. In what she hoped was a subtle maneuver, Zoey retrieved thepaper, and using it as a pseudo bookmark, read the message inviting her for “adrink or whatever.” Signed simply Karen, followed by a phone number. She shouldcrumple the paper and dispose of it discreetly, but instead she tucked it intoher book. Maybe a drink and “whatever” would be the perfect remedy to theclusterfuck she was about to endure.

* * *

Rook Daniels stood inthe middle of Reagan National Airport and stared at the screen above her head,willing the information to change. Unfortunately, her superpowers weren’t up tothe task today. Her flight to New York was delayed, and the airlines hadn’tposted a new time. The desk agent had ducked out within seconds of changing theflight status at the gate, and Rook had yet to find anyone who could answer herquestion about the reason for the delay. The limbo drove her crazy. If the waitwas only an hour she’d be fine, but if it was more than that she might bebetter off abandoning the flight for another form of transportation. She pulledout her cell phone and speed-dialed her office.

“Daniels’s Agency,how may I assist you?” The familiar, pleasant voice answered on the first ring.

“Lacy, it’s Rook. Imade the wrong call booking commercial. The flight’s delayed and I can’t get anupdate on the new schedule. Ask Ben to see what he can find out. I need to knowASAP if we need to delay the press conference.”

“On it. Anythingelse?”

“I guess you betterstart looking for another way to get me to New York. And, Lacy?”

“Yes?”

“Delaying the pressconference has to be the last resort. Understood?”

“Got it, boss. I’llbe in touch soon.”

Rook kept her phonein her hand and maintained her vigilant stalking of the gate, but after a fewminutes, decided she needed a distraction or she’d come unhinged. She plowedher way through the milling crowds of passengers swarming the gates and took aseat at the bar where patrons were glued to several television setsbroadcasting the NCAA basketball tournament. She wanted a drink but ordered aclub soda and lime to keep her head clear, tipping the bartender generously tocompensate for taking up a seat for a two-buck beverage. A few minutes in, shegot a text from Lacy.Engine trouble. Looking for another plane. Should knowmore soon.

Encouraged by thefact she finally had some information, Rook settled back in her chair. The roarof the crowd in the bar pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked aroundto check the source of the commotion and saw the team from UNC celebrating onthe big screen. She joined in with the cheers and almost missed the buzz of herphone.

---