“Seems less likely that we’re dealing with a lone individual out to make an assassination attempt.” He filled his mouth with more food.
“A conspiracy?” She prodded, even though the grouch would have to chew for quite a while before he could answer.
“Possibly.”
“And?”
Sighing, he set down his fork. “We just don’t know the scale or the supporting faction. There were the threats made.”
“There are always threats made.” She leaned forward on her elbows, her blood chugging through her veins. She might not be able to shoot back at those people out there who’d taken potshots at her, but at least in brainstorming, using her mind, she felt like she was doing something. “It doesn’t matter how popular or unpopular a public official is, there will be threats from inside and outside the country.”
“You can be sure there are plenty of people working all those angles.” He picked up his fork and began attacking his meal again.
Great heavens, he was in a mood. She’d never seen this side of him before. He was as detached as any secret service agent.
Ginger gave up trying to start a conversation and shifted her attention to the television. At least the German sitcom would give her a chance to brush up on her local language skills.
Then the news break came through…
“Hank—” she tugged on his sleeve as the television report translated in her mind “—the news is stating an attempt was made on my life, but that I’m safely back in the care of my consulate. No one even knows I’m gone.”
“That’s good.” He nodded, a hint of a smile showing for the first time since they’d left the airport. “At least the average guy in the next booth won’t be looking for us.”
Only law-enforcement agencies—and whoever had started shooting at them in the first place if he had connections on the inside. “I really hoped up to now that this was a fluke attempt by one person and we’d get the all clear to come in.”
The reality of it hit her. They were truly stuck out here. Alone. Not only was her life at risk, but she’d put Hank in danger, too. That more than anything struck her in the gut, stinging her eyes with tears.
What the hell? She never cried anymore. She knew better because she never knew when cameras might be trained on her. Except, maybe that was the point. For the first time since her husband had raised his right hand and become a senator, since she’d assumed his seat after his death, since she’d won reelection on her own merit—for the first time since then, there was no threat of cameras.
A tear leaked free. “Do you think officials have told my children and yours? I hate to think of how afraid they’ll be. They’ve already lost one parent too early—”
Hank’s bodyguard facade slid away and her pal reappeared with a handkerchief in hand. He reached across to swipe the cloth over her cheek. “Hey, hey, now. Nothing’s going to happen to you on my watch. Besides, if your boys have been told what’s going on, they’ve also been told you’re with me. They know full well I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She clutched his hand as she had done hundreds of times in the past. Except today the sensation of his skin on hers felt different against her heightened nerve endings. She almost tugged her hand back but found she really didn’t want to. “What do we do next?”
A double-meaning question if ever she’d heard one. Which way would he choose to answer?
Hank glanced at their clasped hands now resting on the table and then at the cell phone. His gaze lingered longer on the phone, his chest heaving with a sigh. “We’re on our own until the director of the CIA gets back to me or I can figure out a way to get us to a safe house I know.”
A safe house? “How far away is this place?”
“If the weather is kind, we’ll be there by morning.” He squeezed her fingers. “We’re going to be fine, Ginger.”
She nodded, soaking up the comfort of his broad hand clasped in hers. She couldn’t help but be aware, though, of how in the past he would have given her a comforting hug rather than keep his distance. However, things had changed for them in a silly instant when he’d seen her wearing her favorite red camisole.
“I’m sorry to have pulled you into this mess, but lordy, Hank, I can’t help but be glad it’s you here with me rather than one of those babies fresh out of secret service training.”
“Thanks, but I wish we had a couple of those secret service babies around to watch our backs.”
“Fair enough.” She couldn’t help but think of their battered car outside. “How do you plan to take care of transportation?”
“It’s dark enough that the couple of bullets the Mercedes took shouldn’t be visible. I’ll slap some sludge up over the marks on the back bumper. For good measure, I’m going to swap out our license plate with someone else’s in the lot in case someone runs the plates.”
“Do you think it has a tracking device?”
He shook his head. “The guy driving it was more of a rent-a-cop variety and the car is older. It’s as safe as we’re going to get. Stealing another car is risky. Someone might catch us. Even if they don’t, there’s also the risk of having them report it missing, which gives away the fact we came through here.”
“Okay, I can see that.”