Captain's Call of Duty

She nodded and jerked a thumb at him to get out of her seat. Grinning, he moved aside.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

She threw him a strangely hurt look. “No, thank you.”

What was up with that? He’d seen her hoist a cold one with the guys in the unit plenty of times before. Whatever. He turned on the world news to see if there was any new pirate activity being reported in the Sea of Aden. It was a sad but true fact that he got nearly as much of his intelligence on world events from the news channels as he did through classified military means.

Alex worked through the evening, surfing and scribbling. Finally, at about ten o’clock, she pushed her chair back and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Need me to work out that kink?” he offered.

She jolted so hard she all but fell out of her chair. “No. I got it.”

“Find anything?”

“Maybe. Yes. I think so.”

“What’ve you got?”

He plugged in the white-noise machine as she moved over to the sofa and spread her notes out on the coffee table. “At least twenty of the same corporate donors and another dozen large private donors contributed to both your father’s and Chet’s last campaigns. These folks have donated to Chandler’s last several campaigns, but they were all first-time donors to your dad’s last campaign.”

He frowned, staring at the lengthy list of names. He’d never heard his father mention any of these people. “I don’t think any of these guys are from California.”

“I know they’re not.” She shrugged. “Your father and Chandler both tend to vote conservatively, so these donors could conceivably just be supporting like-minded senatorial candidates. Or, they could’ve bought Chet a while back and just be getting around to buying your father. How’d Hank’s last campaign go?”

“It was a close thing. His conservative platform doesn’t always play well with west-coast voters. He was behind in all the polls throughout the campaign and forecasted by everyone to lose. Then he got a big influx of cash at the last minute and was able to blitz the media with family-values ads.” He added bitterly, “Which we all know now to be a load of crap.”

Alex replied quietly, “Just because he cheated on his wife doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his kids.”

Jim shrugged. “He’s not the man I thought he was.” He figured Alex would know what he was talking about. She’d grown up around Hank and seen how larger-than-life but out of reach the man had always been, especially in the eyes of his sons.

“Lots of people aren’t the same as they appear on the surface.”

She sounded oddly choked up when she said that. He studied her closely, but her dark eyes gave away nothing. But then she cleared her throat and said briskly, “Almost every donor on that list is going to be at Senator Chandler’s fundraiser tomorrow night.”

“The one this McNaught Group is putting on?” Jim asked.

She nodded.

“Then I guess I’m going to have to get myself invited to it,” he commented.

“How?” Alex blurted.

“Easy. I’ll call and tell them I want to give Chandler money.”

She replied doubtfully, “The guest list is pretty exclusive. Some of the richest people in this part of the country are going.”

“All the more reason to be there. Sounds like exactly the kind of people I’m looking for.”

She said hesitantly, “I don’t know if you’re rich enough to get in. And the cost per plate is thirty thousand dollars.”

He shrugged. “We can always have Homeland Security add a few zeroes to my bank-account totals if it turns out I’m not wealthy enough to get in on my own.”

She blinked, stunned. “They can do that?”

He laughed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you and I can have whatever we want on this op. The people who put me on this job seriously want to see this bunch of folks exposed.”

“Wow.”

“I’ll arrange for the boost to my bank accounts in the morning. And you’d better call in sick for work tomorrow.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

“Because you have to go shopping.”

“For what?”

“A decent dress to wear to the McNaught fundraiser with me.”

“What?” she squawked.

“Do you even own a dress, Mendez?”

“Of course,” she answered quickly enough that he wondered if she was telling the truth.

“It’ll need to be a fancy one. The McNaught fundraiser is no doubt black-tie.”

“As in tuxedos and ball gowns?” she practically squeaked.

“Exactly.”

She subsided, looking horrified. He laughed. “Chin up, kid. If you’re nice to me I won’t take blackmail pictures of you in a dress to post in the unit.”

“Try it and I’ll have to get even with you.”

“How do you figure you’ll do that?”

“I’ll tell everyone about you kissing the goat.”

Laughter rolled through him. “Lord, I haven’t thought about that in years. The Colton twins dared me to do it.”

“The way I heard it, they didn’t dare you to do it at the summer dance. Taking that poor goat as your date was purely your idea. I can’t wait to see what the guys in the unit do when they find out you make out with goats,” she gloated.

He groaned. “Okay, fine. No pictures tomorrow. Truce?” He held out a hand to shake on the deal.

She reached for his hand but failed to take into account the coffee table between them and pitched over it into the sofa. Fortunately, the piece was overstuffed and broke her fall without injury.

“Remind me to wear body armor under my tux tomorrow night,” he declared. “I’m going to need it if I’m going to dance with you.”