The woman at the desk grabbed the phone again and held up the receiver, shaking it at Lana. “Miss, if you don’t leave at once, I’m calling security.”
“Do it.” Lana leaned against the impenetrable door and folded her arms across her chest. “This will play well.”
The blonde’s cool exterior and her voice finally cracked as she shouted into the phone, “Someone needs to get over here, right away.”
Before the final word left her lips, two security guards charged through the side door of the building. Cordova’s office only gave the illusion of his approachability. Barriers and layers protected him from the common people just as surely as they had protected a czar from his serfs.
As the two goons veered in her direction, Lana thrust out her hands. “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to my congressman. I pay his salary—yours, too.”
“Ma’am.” The bigger security guard spread out his hands, which looked like slabs of pink beef. “Go about this the right way. Don’t cause any trouble today.”
“Trouble?” Lana sniffed and blinked her eyes rapidly. She refused to give in to tears here. Did she have any left? “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
The big guy rolled his eyes at his slightly smaller partner and said, “Are you even five feet tall? You’re not going to put up a fight, are you, ma’am?”
Lana widened her stance, the heels of her boots digging into the polished floor. “Five foot two.”
Security guard number two snorted. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave the premises, one way or another.”
“How about you leave the premises, and I meet with my congressman.”
“I—I can make an appointment for you with Congressman Cordova.” Cordova’s assistant swung her chair in front of her computer, her hands poised over the keyboard. “He’s free tomorrow at three o’clock. Will that work for you?”
“Hmm.” Lana tapped a finger against her chin as she tilted her head to the side. “No. Right now works for me.”
The taller, bigger, beefier security guard took a step forward. “Ma’am, this isn’t working for anyone right now. You’re going to have to leave and make an appointment through Tessa later.”
“I don’t want to leave, and Cordova is never going to keep an appointment with me. I’m on his no-call list.” Lana ground her back teeth together.
Tessa’s face blanched, almost matching the color of her hair. As the security duo moved forward with purpose, Tessa shouted, “Wait!”
But the guards had both started speaking at once in coaxing tones as they moved in on Lana, drowning out Tessa’s exclamation.
They each took one of Lana’s arms and peeled her off the congressman’s door. They started to march her toward the front entrance, the one facing the sidewalk, the one facing the public.
Tessa had jumped from her seat, the chair banging against the wall behind her. “What’s your name? What’s your name?”
Lana cranked her head over her shoulder and smiled at Tessa, her pale face now crumpled with worry. “Lana. Lana Moreno.”
“Wait…don’t.” Tessa scurried around the desk, banging her hip on the corner.
The security guards had embraced their mission and continued propelling Lana to the exit—flipping the congressman from the frying pan into the fire.
The three of them burst through the double doors into the wintry Greenvale sun, straight into the arms of the media Lana had called earlier.
Cameras zoomed in and microphones materialized out of thin air.
“Did Congressman Cordova kick you out of his office, Lana?”
“Did he have any answers for you?”
“Do you think this shows his disdain for the military?”
Both of the security guards dropped her arms so fast and at the same time, she listed to the side. The shorter guy growled. “What the hell is this?”
“It’s a news conference, which never would’ve happened had Cordova agreed to meet with me.”
She brushed off the sleeves of her brown suede jacket, tugged on its lapels and stepped in front of a microphone. “Yes, Congressman Luis Cordova refused to meet with me, and he’s refused to answer any of my emails. You can make your own determination whether or not that shows disrespect for our military as he continues to cover up the circumstances behind the deaths of three marines in Nigeria.”
“Ms. Moreno.” The congressman magically appeared in the doorway behind her, his unctuous tone, as smooth as oil, swirling through the chaos on the sidewalk. “I was just finishing up with my meeting when I heard the commotion. I told my assistant to clear all my calls immediately. Come back into my office with me. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”
Lana nodded, backed away from the mic and swept past the two security guards, now trying to keep the reporters from following her and the congressman.
Five minutes later, ensconced in a deep leather chair across from Congressman Cordova, a glass of water in front of her, Lana took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I had to resort to those means, but you wouldn’t acknowledge any of my communications.”
Cordova swept a hand over the top of his head, slicking his salt-and-pepper hair back from his forehead. “You saw the report, Ms. Moreno. There’s no mystery, no cover-up. Your brother and the other marines were attacked outside the embassy outpost by a band of marauding criminals. Nigeria can be a lawless place, especially away from the big cities.”
“Really?” She crossed one leg over the other and took a sip of water. “What was the U.S. Government doing in that particular area of Nigeria?”
“That is classified information. Your brother didn’t even know what they were doing there.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” She drummed her fingers on his desk. “I’m waiting for the Marine Corps to ship his belongings to me. They could even arrive as early as this afternoon. Gil always kept a journal. I can’t wait to read what he wrote in that journal.”
“I’m sure it will be a great comfort to you, Ms. Moreno. Lo siento por su perdida.” He steepled his fingers and bowed his head.
Tears stung her nose. “I don’t need you to be sorry for my loss. I need you to use your position on the House Foreign Affairs Committee to open up an investigation of what went down at that embassy outpost—a real investigation.”
“The Committee has no reason to believe anything other than the initial report, a report I went out of my way to send you, by the way.”
Uncrossing her legs, she hunched forward, the ends of her long hair sweeping the glossy surface of his desk. “A report so heavily redacted, I could barely read it through the black lines.”
“A necessity, but I’m sure you got the gist of the information. A marauding band of…”
“Criminals.” She smacked her fist on the desk, causing the pens in the holder to dance. “I’ve heard that line a million times. It’s a solid talking point, but why would common criminals attack a U.S. Embassy outpost? Do you think they were trying to steal computers? Watches off the embassy staff? Cushions from the pool furniture?”
“They’re criminals.” Cordova’s left eyebrow twitched. “I suppose they’re going to steal whatever they can.”
“Why choose a building guarded by U.S. Marines? And why do common criminals in Nigeria have RPGs?”
The congressman shot up