Free State of Alliance by Summer Lane Page B

Cassie,” he says. “Sometimes we have to be patient.”
    I don’t say what I’m thinking: I’ve been patient .
    How hard can it be to tell someone you love them?

Chapter Eight
    When Jeff Young died, a part of me died, too. He was a good friend to me, someone I could confide in when the going got rough. Someone who understood Chris better than I did, and someone who was there for me when Chris seemed incapable of expressing emotion.
    I wish he were here right now.
    I’m sitting in the hallway right outside of the meeting room where we had the Negotiations yesterday. I am wearing an armored vest, my rifle slung across my back, a handgun and a knife strapped to my hip. Uriah, Vera, Sophia, Andrew and Chris are here with me. Devin May is standing by the door, his stance similar to Chris’s.
    “Why is it taking so long?” I say.
    “These things take time,” Chris replies, his eyes focused straight ahead.
    “How much time?”
    Chris almost smiles for the first time in hours.
    “As much time as they need,” he tells me.
    “Well, my girl, I hear you dodged death twice last night. Is that true?”
    I jump out of my chair, a smile spreading across my face. Manny walks through the doors on the far side of the hall, windblown and smelling of the outdoors. His flight cap is shoved into the pocket of his leather overcoat. I run to him and embrace him, relieved and happy to see my dear friend.
    “Well, now,” he says, grinning. His weathered, wrinkled face is streaked with grease and dirt. “It’s nice to see you too, Senator.”
    “I’m glad you’re here, Manny,” I reply.
    “Manny,” Chris says, nodding. “Good to see you.”
    Manny shakes his hand.
    “So,” he says. “What are you all doing around here? Holding a communal baptism of some sort? Baptism by bullets, perhaps?”
    “We’re waiting for the verdict,” Andrew answers, raising an eyebrow. “The representatives are taking a vote on California’s entry into the Alliance.”
    “Ah, politics,” Manny says, making a face. “Because talking endlessly about nothing always solves the problem.”
    “There’s the truth,” Vera mutters.
    “Ah, Vera. Back to your usual, bubbly self,” Manny comments. “And who, may I ask, are you ?” He gestures to Devin.
    “Lieutenant Devin May,” Devin says, shaking Manny’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
    “I would imagine,” Manny replies. “News of dashing pilots risking life and limb for the good of their country has a way of making an impression on you.” He winks, a devilish expression on his face. “Now, back to business. Cassidy, two assassination attempts in one night?”
    “Yes,” Devin interrupts. “Two assassins in the ballroom and somebody got into the Senator’s room and poisoned her water. We verified it.”
    “I feel very secure in this facility, don’t you?” Manny smirks.
    “I don’t know who to trust,” I say in a low voice.
    Chris turns to me, a surprised expression on his face. Before he says a word, the doors to the meeting room open. Sophia and Andrew straighten up and Uriah casts a wary glance toward me.
    Commander Jen Amal takes a step into the hall. She’s really a beautiful woman, tall and refined, pretty dark hair slicked down.
    “Senator,” she says.
    There is a long silence. Everyone in the room seems to be holding their breath.
    “Well?” I ask. “Are we in?”
    Amal smiles.
    “Welcome to the Pacific Northwest Alliance.”
    Here we go again, back in the convoy. I am sitting between Uriah and Vera. Chris is in the front seat. The other representatives/militia commanders are following us: Ken Thrawn of Oregon, Nathaniel Mero of Washington, Marshal Sullivan of Canada and Anita Vega of Mexico.
    “Explain this to me again,” I say, leaning forward. Devin May is driving the Humvee, and he is talking to Chris in low tones.
    “We’re going to the Defense Language Institute of Monterey,” Chris replies. His eyes are hidden behind black, tactical