Word of Honor fr-7

by Radclyffe

  “Hello, Valerie.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Thirty-two minutes,” Cam said without looking at her watch. “Is everyone secured at the lodge?”

  “Yes. No secondary force?”

  “None that I’ve seen. I have a feeling he plans to deliver her to whoever wants to use her as a bargaining chip. Otherwise, he would have taken her out already.”

  “I agree. Up until today, his agenda has been assassination, not kidnapping.”

  Cam registered the pressure of Valerie’s arm against hers and felt an infusion of strength—unsought but freely given. Her next breath came just a little easier. “Any ideas on who’s pulling his strings?”

  “Foreign interests—probably working with Bin Laden, or allied factions.”

  Cam’s stomach spasmed and she swallowed back a wave of nausea. She agreed. The stakes had been raised. Matheson was probably

  exactly what he appeared, a deranged but clever domestic terrorist whose alliance with those with far more destructive allegiances had turned him into a lethal adversary. “Recommendation?”

  “Two four-man teams, flash-bangs followed by rapid entry.”

  “We have three hostages at risk.” What Cam didn’t have to say was that a rescue attempt would likely result in casualties. Even given the five to six seconds of overwhelming disorientation Matheson was likely to experience in the chaos created by a million candlewatt flash of light and a 175 decibel bang, he was certain to open fire. Probably indiscriminately. The assault team would have body armor, but none of the hostages would. “He’ll try to take them out.”

  “If we let him leave here with her, her chance of survival drops drastically. Right now, he’s on our turf and he’s outgunned.”

  “He’s counting on us not launching a counterattack. He’ll kill her if we do, and he knows we know it.”

  Valerie said nothing. Cam wondered if she would make a different decision if the hostage Matheson was most likely to kill wasn’t her lover. She didn’t know. How could she? All she knew was what she felt right now. Helpless. Powerless. Afraid.

  Blair listened to Matheson talk, her mind rebelling at the insanity of his diatribe. How could anyone believe that mass murder was justifiable for any reason, let alone love of God and country? She had to remind herself that of course he didn’t make sense, because he was a madman. The frightening thing was that he didn’t look or really even sound crazy, until she absorbed his message of hatred and bigotry. She shivered, not from fear but revulsion.

  Dana was amazing, drawing Matheson out with her questions and attention. Somehow she managed to engage him, making him feel as if what he had to say was very important. As if he were very important. As Blair watched and listened, she could see Matheson warm to his topic. His voice and face became more animated. He was truly terrifying in his utter sense of righteousness.

  As they talked, Blair realized that Matheson’s focus, even his body position, shifted more and more toward Dana. She had a feeling that Dana knew it too, and suddenly, she understood exactly what Dana Barnett was doing. Dana was making herself the target.

  Blair suddenly feared Dana would try to draw Matheson’s fire to give Blair a chance to get away. She couldn’t let that happen. And it wasn’t just Dana she was worried for. Paula continued to bleed and appeared to have lapsed into unconsciousness again. They were running out of time. Time.

  Cam wouldn’t wait much longer, Blair was certain of it. Cam would come for her, and when she did, she would be in danger. Too many in danger. Women she loved, men she respected, people risking their lives for her. No more. No more.

  She took a breath, emptied her thoughts, prepared herself. She felt calm, at peace. This was right. As it should be. No one should stand between her and evil.

  It was her fight, as it always had been. She was not going to let one more person die because of her. She would take him on herself before she let that happen. She eased along the sofa until she was poised on the end closest to him. The distance between them was about six feet. If she pushed off hard and fast and launched a flying kick, she would offer less of a target and she might be able to take him down before he got off more than one shot. If he hit her, the shot would probably be in her leg or shoulder—with luck, nowhere lethal.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Cam’s cell phone rang. “Roberts.”

  “We just received a call,” Lucinda Washburn reported, “demanding the release of fourteen so-called political prisoners who are slotted to be transported from Afghanistan to a U.S. military holding facility in two days.”

  “Were you able to triangulate the location of the caller?”

  “No, but it wasn’t Matheson. Our language analysts all agree this man is Middle Eastern.”

  “What did he say about Blair?” Cam struggled with the frustration of being out of the loop. She hated relying on bureaucrats and desk jockeys. Lucinda was a great political strategist but she wasn’t a field operative.

  “He said…” Lucinda’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “He said we had thirty minutes to agree to his requests. Once we agreed, he would wait twelve hours for us to release the prisoners.”

  “If you refuse?” A trickle of icy sweat ran down the back of Cam’s neck. Despite the freezing temperatures, her hair was soaked with sweat and she had to keep rubbing her forearm across her face to clear her vision.

  “Blair will be executed.”

  Cam knew it was coming but she still felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “That doesn’t make any sense. Matheson walked into a situation with no exit, and without Blair, he doesn’t have a chance of getting out of that cabin alive.”

  “It’s possible that Matheson and the individual negotiating for the foreign prisoners have different agendas. They may not be following the same game plan.”

  “Which makes the situation here all the more volatile.”

  “We don’t have time to provide backup for you, other than the members of the president’s advance security team who are already out there. I can call Tom—”

  “No, I don’t want them involved. I told you, we have the people.” Cam squinted through the glare at the cabin. It looked empty, and yet it held everything. Everything. “Let me know if there’s any further communication.”

  “Cam,” Lucinda said, her voice losing its tight formality. “The president and I trust you to get her out. Whatever you need to do, get her out. Get them all out.”

  “I will.”

  Cam disconnected and said to Valerie, “The president has thirty minutes to agree to a prisoner exchange.”

  “Will he?”

  “No.”

  Valerie touched Cam’s sleeve. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Cam laughed hollowly. “Blair would chew his butt off.”

  “I would imagine.” Valerie tightened her grip on Cam’s arm. “Matheson will have to move her. She’s his way out of here.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to relinquish command to me now.”

  Cam’s jaws clenched. “You know I can’t—”

  “You know it’s what should be done.” Valerie’s gaze was steady and her eyes kind. “Trust me, Cameron, and let me do this for you. For both of you.”

  “They’re my people,” Cam whispered, wishing she could will herself into their place.

  “I know that, but she’s your heart. None of us can think clearly when our hearts are at stake.”

  “I have to go in.”

  Valerie smiled. “Of course you do. And you will.”

  Cam hesitated for what felt like an eternity, agonizing with the decision that would change the course of her life. And because she hesitated, for even a single heartbeat, she said, “Take the lead.”

  Matheson interrupted his monologue to Dana when the phone in his jacket pocket started to ring. Watching Blair, he smiled as he answered. “Yes? I see. Forty minutes, then. Godspeed, Colonel.”

  Blair didn’t dare risk looki
ng in Dana’s direction, and since Matheson’s automatic was now pointed squarely at her own chest, she held her position. Sooner or later, he was going to want her to get up. Then she would have a chance, probably her only chance.

  “It seems that your father doesn’t think you’re all that valuable,” Matheson said.

  Blair grinned with satisfaction. “I guess he said no to whatever you wanted.”

  “Call your girlfriend.” Matheson tossed his cell phone to Blair, his expression one of distaste. “I have a message for her.”

  Blair hoped her hands weren’t visibly shaking as she punched in Cam’s number.

  “Roberts.”

  “It’s Blair, Cam.” Blair wanted to say, It’s me, darling, I’m all right. Don’t do anything crazy. But she kept her voice neutral because she wouldn’t give Matheson the satisfaction of listening to anything personal between them.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but Paula is hu—” She gasped as Matheson wrenched her hair back and yanked the phone from her hand at the same time. He pushed her down onto the sofa and held his gun on her.

  “Listen carefully,” Matheson said into the phone. “In twenty-five minutes I want one of your armored vehicles in front of this cabin. Don’t tell me you can’t get it down here, because I know you can.”

  Blair could barely make out the sound of Cam’s voice, but just hearing the strong, steady timbre gave her hope. She strained to catch a few words.

  “Too much…snow on…between here…parking lo—”

  “You forget, I know what those vehicles are capable of. Twenty-five minutes. Back it up to the cabin with the driver’s door level with the porch stairs.”

  “What abo…agent…get her.”

  Matheson laughed and glanced across the room at Paula and Dana.

  “I don’t think she’s going to be of any use to either one of us before much longer.”

  “Let her go,” Blair said quickly. “She’s only going to slow us down.”

  Matheson ignored her. “The agent stays. Now you’ve got twenty-three minutes.”

  The instant he snapped his phone shut, Blair felt the separation from Cam as if someone had sliced part of her body away with a machete. Cam had sounded stressed and worried, but in command. God, she loved her. She wanted to tell her that again, touch her again. Love her again.

  Her heart broke at the thought of Renee out there, not knowing what was happening to Paula. She must be out of her mind with worry. She was frantic that Cam was going to come charging in and get herself hurt. She didn’t want Cam to come for her, although she knew she would. She couldn’t live with losing Cam.

  “Get over there next to your friends,” Matheson said, taking up position with his back to the fireplace again. From that vantage point, he could easily keep all three of them in his sights.

  Blair hurried over and knelt beside Dana. She brushed her hand over Paula’s face. Her skin was cool, pale, clammy. When she pressed her fingers to Paula’s throat, at first she couldn’t find a pulse and a wave of panic crashed through her. Then she felt a faint, thready beat. She looked over her shoulder at Matheson. “She’s lost too much blood. We need to get her some help. There’s no need for her to die.” She took a breath, accepting what she had to do. “Please. Let Dana take her outside. Let them go. I’ll stay with you. I’ll do whatever you say. You have my word.”

  Matheson laughed. “If you were a normal woman, I might believe you. But you’re not, are you?” He checked his watch. “We don’t have that much longer to wait. If she can’t last that long, then it must be God’s will.”

  “Emory,” Mac said as he stepped into the dining room, which had been designated the aid station, “we might need you in a few minutes. Felicia will escort you if you have to leave the lodge. Here’s a vest. Be sure to put it on and stay with Felicia, no matter what you see or hear.”

  “What’s happening?” Emory braced one hand on the long table in the corner where she had assembled the medical supplies several agents had brought her. Fortunately, Blair’s security team traveled with an impressive array of emergency equipment. She had antibiotics, pain medication, and intravenous fluids. Even blood substitute. Everything she needed to stabilize an injured patient, if she got to them quickly enough. The problem was, anyone seriously injured in that first round of gunfire was running out of time. She prayed it wasn’t Dana, nearly choking on the guilt because she didn’t want Paula or Blair to be injured either.

  “Just be ready, okay?” Mac said gently.

  Diane appeared in the doorway behind him, her face pale and haunted. “I saw people carrying weapons and other…things…heading toward the cabins. Are you going to get them out now?”

  “You’re supposed to stay away from the windows,” Mac said sharply.

  “Those are my friends down there!” Diane hugged herself. “Do you think I can just sit here and pretend nothing’s happening?”

  “I’m sorry,” Mac said. “I have to go. Just stay in the interior of the house. We don’t want any more wounded.”

  “I can’t stand this,” Diane cried as Mac disappeared. She slumped against the doorway. “I’m going out of my mind just waiting around, doing nothing.”

  “I’m with you.” Emory’s hands shook as she sorted through medication vials. “I’d rather be down there with a gun.”

  “God, me too, and I don’t even know which end the bullet comes out.” Diane laughed a little wildly. “I’m sorry, I know I should be better at this. I’ve actually been through this kind of thing before. Except… God, that bastard has Blair. And Paula and Dana…”

  “They’ll get them out,” Emory whispered, the panic she had managed to hold at bay while planning for the injured rushing back.

  “Hey!” Diane gripped Emory’s shoulders. “You look terrible.”

  “I’m…I’m all right.”

  Diane peered at her. “No, you’re not. Oh hell, it’s Dana, isn’t it.”

  Emory nodded.

  “Oh, honey.” Diane pulled her close. “What rotten timing. I can’t even ask for the details yet.”

  “Later,” Emory said, resting her cheek on Diane’s shoulder and closing her eyes. The comfort felt wonderful. “When she’s back, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “You’d better.” Diane stroked Emory’s hair. “She’s so hot she makes my eyes ache.”

  Emory lifted her head, smiling tremulously. “Valerie is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Diane’s face softened. “She is, isn’t she? I never thought I’d be this crazy in love with anyone.”

  “I know what you mean,” Emory whispered. “I just want her back. God, I just want her back.”

  “Bring the vehicle down,” Valerie said into her mic.

  Cam tensed as Valerie relayed orders, positioning the strike teams. Next to her, Savard’s rapid breathing was punctuated by puffs of frozen air. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” Savard replied tersely.

  “We’ll have five seconds at most.” As agreed, Valerie had made the decision, and when she had laid out the plan, Cam had concurred. She had given Valerie the lead because she trusted her, and because the only thing she could think about was getting inside that cabin. She couldn’t be responsible for anything else. This one time, with everything at stake, she needed to be a player and not the one standing behind the lines directing the action. “I need you right on my shoulder when we take the door, Renee.”

  “I’ll be there. I’m solid. Jesus, I just want to go.” Savard shifted in the snow, her hands restless on her assault rifle.

  “I know.” Cam squeezed Savard’s shoulder below the edge of the vest covering her black T-shirt. Neither of them wore coats. Her own shirt was wet under her vest. “So do I.”

  Under cover of the Suburban slowly grinding through the snow down the steep path from the parking lot above, two agents with XM84 flash-bangs crept alongside it, out of view of the cabin should Matheson look out the fron
t window.

  “Alpha team, go.” Valerie’s voice came through Cam’s com link as the vehicle drew opposite Cam and Savard’s position.

  Cam whispered, “On me, Savard.”

  And then, finally, with her mind completely clear and every sense focused on only one thing, Cam raced toward the cabin, and Blair.

  Matheson edged the drape aside and peered out, grunting in apparent satisfaction. “Our ride is here.”

  Blair, on her knees by Paula, inched slowly forward until she was between Matheson and the others. “There’s no way you’re going to get all four of us into that vehicle. I told you I’ll go with you—just leave Dana and Paula here.”

  “You have to go with me,” Matheson said pleasantly, as if he were discussing plans for lunch. “You’re driving.” He lifted the automatic. “Your friends are coming. That way, I can be sure you don’t try to be a hero. If you try to drive us into a tree, I’ll shoot one of them. Barnett— it’s your job to get the agent into the vehicle. If you can’t manage it, I’ll put her down like a wounded animal. Mercy killing.”

  “You have me.” Dana’s face clouded with anger. “Besides, I want to come. You owe me the rest of the story, and this is a scoop I don’t want to miss. One extra hostage should be enough. For Christ’s sake, leave her here.”

  “It’s no wonder we don’t let women serve in combat. You’re all too busy taking care of each other to concentrate on the fight.” Matheson gestured at Paula’s unconscious form. “The two of you get her on her feet. When we move out, she’s all yours, Barnett. Ms. Powell…you’ll be accompanying me.”

  “Fine,” Blair said. She would let him shoot her before she got into that vehicle with him. The farther away she got from Cam and the others, the less chance she would have.

  Matheson’s cell phone rang, and he smiled. “Saddle up.”

  Blair straightened and centered herself. The front door was five feet to her right. Matheson faced her off to the other side, just outside her kicking range. She’d have to hope he didn’t shoot her the instant she lunged, because she needed that one extra step to reach him.