by Radclyffe
Valerie stopped her with a viselike grip on her arm. “If I were to think you were going to write about any of your theories, I might have to sequester you and restrict all your communications.”
Dana wasn’t all that surprised by the threat, but she hadn’t expected the complete absence of anger. Valerie No Last Name appeared to be completely unprovokeable. Even Cameron Roberts had shown some fire when Dana had pushed about Blair. This woman Valerie fascinated her. And she knew one thing for certain now. There was nowhere she wanted to be for the foreseeable future, except with Blair Powell. “I suppose it’s been a long time since you’ve read the Bill of Rights. You know, the part about freedom of the press?”
“I’m not playing games,” Valerie said easily. “Your press pass doesn’t protect you when matters of national security are at stake.”
“And who decides that?”
“I do.”
“Who’s going to decide exactly what will be on the record, other than the menu for the wedding?”
“I believe that will be up to the deputy director.” For an instant, Valerie’s cool façade shifted and Dana caught a glimpse of something dark and dangerous in her eyes before Valerie added, “When she returns.”
*
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Emory tugged Dana’s sleeve and pulled her away from Valerie, who immediately turned back to the window.
“Sure.” Dana followed Emory to the breakfast bar, surprised that Emory had sought her out since she was pretty certain that her talking to Blair had confirmed for Emory just how self-serving and callous she was. She slid onto one of the stools. Someone had turned the lights down so that the area was dim, giving the false impression of privacy. “Something wrong?”
“I thought I should rescue you before you got yourself into trouble.”
“Worried about me?” Dana said lightly. Ordinarily, she would be irritated by anyone trying to interfere with her work, but the little frown lines between Emory’s dark brows indicated real concern. After witnessing the passionate interconnections between Blair Powell, her friends, and those who guarded her, Dana realized just how much she wanted someone to care about her. To wonder about where she was and to worry if she didn’t come home. Maybe that was a pipe dream, but the breathless pleasure she got from the troubled look in Emory’s eyes was not a dream. The feeling was real and sweet and she wanted more of it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a champion.”
Emory’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, and as she leaned closer she rested her hand on Dana’s thigh. “I can see what you’re doing, and you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Dana grinned. “For a scientist, you’re remarkably subtle. And at the moment, imprecise too.”
“Don’t joke. You don’t know what’s going on here, and if you push these people…” Emory shook her head. “Just do the job you came to do. Write about what a warm, wonderful woman Blair Powell is and how much she cares about her country and how much she loves her father. Write about what it costs her to be open and honest about her life with the whole world watching, and a good part of it criticizing. Write about the beautiful love between Blair Powell and Cameron Roberts.”
“I can’t just write about the things that are pretty,” Dana said. “Or easy. Or what people want to hear.”
“Blair’s life is not easy.” Emory snorted. “Believe me, there are a lot of people who don’t want to hear about Blair and Cam.”
“I know that. And I will write about her marriage. But what about what else is going on? What about the danger? Who’s after her, Emory?”
“Don’t. Please don’t go there.”
Emory’s voice was low and almost tortured and Dana had this sudden need to erase her pain. She covered Emory’s hand where it lay on her leg. “You know, don’t you? You know what’s really going on here.” Dana began mentally sorting what she knew about Emory and the things she had read about the first daughter. Blair and Diane Bleeker had been friends since they were teenagers. There had never been any mention of an acquaintance with Emory until some brief news clip about the two of them at a fund-raiser early the previous month. But from what Dana could see now, something had bonded Emory, Blair, and Diane in a powerful way. What’s more, Emory knew a lot of the inside players in the room. Valerie had recognized Emory the instant she’d stepped off the elevator. “Something happened last month, and you were there, weren’t you? When was it? In Boston? Was there an attempt on Blair’s life?” Dana had another thought and her stomach clenched. “On yours?”
“I’ve always been a private person,” Emory said as if she were talking to herself. “But I’ve never had so many secrets in my life.” She pulled her hand from beneath Dana’s and got up. “I wish you weren’t so good at what you do.”
“Emory,” Dana said urgently as Emory turned away, but Emory did not look back. Her abrupt departure left Dana feeling hollow and unspeakably lonely. For the first time ever in her life, she wished the story didn’t always come first.
*
“Hey,” Blair said, squatting down next to Paula’s chair. “You ought to try eating some of that sandwich. You’ve been on duty all day and it might be a long night.”
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
Paula had never learned Cam’s infuriating ability to hide her pain, but Blair didn’t think Paula was any less good at her job because of it. Paula would do whatever she needed to do, even while she bled to death inside. She was bleeding now, and Blair ached for her. She understood firsthand just how hard it was to silence all the little voices that kept screaming she was going to lose what mattered most to her. But fight to silence the nightmare demons she did, and she would keep on fighting no matter what. “As soon as this is over, I want to get out of here. Tomorrow, let’s go to Colorado.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Or Sunday. That’s only moving things up a couple of days. We were going on Monday, anyhow.”
“I’ll have to clear it with the commander.”
Blair’s heart warmed to Paula’s automatic certainty that Cam would be back. “Why? You’re my security chief. Everything is set out there, right? Mac and Ellen have done all the advance work.”
“They probably have a few more simulations to run with local law enforcement and the medical evac teams, but we’ve been at full readiness since midweek.”
“There, see?” Blair grasped Paula’s arm. “We’ve been planning this for over a month. Now more than ever, Cam, and Renée too, will need to rest. I don’t care what they say. I don’t care who needs to be chased, who has to be caught, who must be punished. For a few days, they need to recover.” She leaned closer. “Or, Paula, next time someone’s going to get hurt.”
“Next time?” Paula whispered. Her gaze swept the room as she checked to make sure that no one could hear them. “Renée barely finished rehab before going on this mission. It was supposed to be an easy trip. If there’s been trouble…” Her voice broke and she clenched her fist, the muscles in her arm tightening under Blair’s hand.
“Renée will be all right. Cam would never have taken her if she didn’t think Renée could do whatever needed to be done, under any circumstances.” She gave Paula’s arm a shake. “Besides, Renée might be stubborn but she’s a professional. She wouldn’t have put herself back on active duty if she didn’t think she was ready.”
Paula smiled. “Renée’s idea of being fit for duty is a little bit different than mine.”
“Oh, bull,” Blair exclaimed. Individually, they each felt they were indestructible, but they lived with the fear that the ones they loved were not. “As I recall, you were the one who didn’t want to give up a shift even when you had a bullet hole in your shoulder.”
Stark frowned. “That’s different.”
“Right. It’s always different when it’s you.” Blair was glad to see some of the pain lift from Paula’s eyes. “So what do you say? Colorado? We’ll hit the slopes and leave all this behind?”
“
As soon as I get clearance, and you know where that has to come from. Until the commander gets a handle on…” Paula paused and glanced across the room at Dana Barnett, who was studying them intently. “Your security is a joint operation for the time being, but I’ll push for us to go. You’re right, they’ll need it.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll all need it.”
*
Cam and Savard waited until the injured men were removed from the helicopter and transferred to an ambulance, then they climbed out, keeping their heads down as the rotors whipped overhead. They’d landed in a small lot behind a mostly darkened building at Langley Air Force Base. Outside the wavering circle of light cast by the chopper’s beams, Cam saw two figures but she couldn’t make out their faces.
“By my side,” Cam said to Savard. They approached their reception committee with shoulders touching. Cam kept a grip on her holstered pistol as did Savard until she recognized Lucinda Washburn and Averill Jensen, the president’s security adviser. “Clear.”
“Who were you expecting?” Lucinda asked.
“Right about now, I’m not real sure,” Cam said.
“Do you two need medics?”
“Savard does,” Cam said.
“No, I don’t,” Savard snapped. She glanced at Cam. “Ma’am.”
Lucinda, dressed in low heels, a dark skirt and jacket, and a silk blouse, looked as if she’d just stepped out of her office rather than out of the helicopter she had probably taken to get from Washington to Langley after Cam signaled her. “You’re sure? Because it’s going to take most of the night to debrief you.”
Cam looked at Savard. “Is there anything wrong with you that a gallon of coffee won’t cure?”
“I’m fine, Commander.”
“We’re good to go,” Cam said to Lucinda. “After I make a phone call. And we both need showers. We’re covered with ash and smoke.”
“The showers we can provide,” the president’s security adviser said, “but I don’t think a call is advisable until we have a better handle on exactly what happened.”
“I wasn’t making a request.” As Cam started toward the building with Savard by her side, she pulled out her cell phone.
*
Matheson put his book aside and picked up his cell phone, surprised at the unexpected call. Only a very few people had this number, and he changed phones every few days. His surprise turned to concern when he didn’t recognize the caller’s number. He contemplated not answering for a few seconds, and then decided a brief response would be safe. If he sensed trouble he could hang up before anyone had a chance to trace his location.
“Hello?”
“Hello, my good friend. I believe we have some business to discuss, do we not?” a man said in heavily accented but perfect English.
“I’m always happy to assist a friend, although I don’t remember any further bus—”
“Recent events have altered our thinking about the value of certain items. Perhaps we can choose a convenient time and place to confer.”
Matheson checked his watch. Still a little more time. “Of course, of course. I’ll have my second contact you with details.”
“Thank you, my friend.” There was a pause. “Do not delay.”
The caller disconnected and Matheson considered his alliance with the men whom under other circumstances he would consider enemies. The enemies of his enemy had become his friends. God did work in mysterious ways.
Chapter Fourteen
Blair’s and Paula’s cell phones rang simultaneously in stereo, and Blair saw the same mixture of hope and uncertainty flash across Paula’s face that rushed through her. She yanked her phone off her waist. “Cam?”
“Everything’s okay,” Cam said quickly. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”
Late? She’s worried about being late? Blair would have laughed—or cried—at the absurdity, but she knew Cam meant it with her whole heart. Turning her back to the room, Blair lowered her voice and cradled the phone in her palm as if it were Cam’s face. She wanted to touch her so badly and refused to think about how long it might be before she could. Only one thing really mattered at this moment. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Cam said firmly. “No, we’re both all right.”
“How long can you talk?” Blair heard her own voice and was amazed at how calm she sounded. Inside, she shook with the release of hours of tension and fear. She wanted to say, Come home, now. I need you. She knew that wasn’t possible. She knew, but that didn’t ease the ache in her chest.
“I’ve just got a minute.” Cam sounded apologetic. “Are you okay?”
“Better now.” Blair took a breath, the first unhindered pain-free breath she’d taken in hours. “When will you be home?”
“I don’t know yet. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Lonely.”
“Me too,” Cam said softly. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“I know. Are you sure you’re safe?”
“Yes. Are you with friends?”
“Everyone’s here. Everything’s under control.” Blair knew better than to ask where Cam was, or about what had happened, or who she was with. All those questions would have to wait. She had what she needed most. Cam was unhurt and out of danger and coming home. “You sound hoarse.”
Cam coughed, clearing her throat. “Maybe a little scratchy. No problem.”
“You’re not hurt?” The last time Cam had sounded this way someone had tried to kill her. The idea of someone physically assaulting her lover made her ill. The reality haunted her dreams and stalked her waking moments. “Darling?”
“No. There was…some smoke.”
Blair sighed. Cam would try to keep the details from her, not because Cam didn’t trust her, but because she didn’t want to worry her. And Blair would force it out of her, not just because she needed to know what monsters lurked, waiting to destroy her world, but because Cam needed to talk so the monsters wouldn’t slowly destroy her. “Later about that, then, Roberts.”
Cam laughed. “Okay, baby.”
“Can you tell everyone to get out of our apartment now?”
“Soon. Not tonight, though. Not until I have a better handle on the incident.”
The incident. The event. The operation. The mission. Code words for danger. Euphemisms for death. “I’m not going anywhere until you get home, but I’ve about had it. Which means you need to get your ass back here.”
“I will. Just as soon as I can. I promise.”
“And no side trips.” Cam would know she meant that whatever retaliation might be necessary, she didn’t want Cam to be part of it. There were agents trained to do what needed to be done—Cam did not have to be the first on the scene any longer. When the silence stretched longer than a few seconds, Blair said, “Do you hear me?”
“I’ll do my best, baby.”
And Blair knew that was all she could ask. “Come home soon. I miss you.”
*
A silent female lieutenant waited inside the locker room while Cam and Savard showered. She provided them with black military-issue BDUs and T-shirts and then escorted them to a small, drab conference room with a table that seated twelve, an outdated pull-down projection screen at one end of the room, and a coffee cart with a huge urn that Cam hoped was filled with hot coffee at the other end. Lucinda sat at one end of the conference table with Averill Jensen.
“You two are looking a little better,” Lucinda said.
“We’re good to go,” Cam said.
The lieutenant stepped out into the hall and closed the door, leaving the four of them alone. Cam tested the urn with her hand, grunted in pleasure when she felt the heat, and searched the metal cabinet beneath the cart for cups. She filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee and handed it to Savard, then got her own. Savard followed her when she sat down at the conference table.
“What happened?” Lucinda asked.
Cam gave a recap of the events. “I don’t suppose you two have anything to add?”
Jensen look surprised. “Like what?”
“Like whether or not this was a sanctioned neutralization?”
Lucinda glanced at Jensen, eyes narrowed. “Averill?”
“No,” he said, sounding defensive. “Why would you ask? Isn’t it obvious that Matheson or one of the other patriot organizers was trying to eliminate Early before he could identify them or disclose other vital information about their operations?”
“It’s never wise to accept the obvious,” Cam said quietly, watching Jensen carefully. Lucinda Washburn and Andrew Powell she trusted unequivocally, but they were the only two she could say that about other than Blair and the members of her team. Jensen she didn’t know that well. “How many people knew we were planning to interrogate Early today?”
Now Jensen turned in his seat and looked to Lucinda for help. Lucinda shook her head and said, “Nothing happens in a vacuum, and there is no such thing as airtight security. You know that better than anyone. The minute you get in a cab, someone knows about it. Flights had to be arranged, the local office in Virginia was contacted for an escort, the prison commander was advised that you were coming. No one knew you were going to see Early, at least not that I’m aware of.”
“How many other detainees from Matheson’s compound are being held there?” Cam asked.
Lucinda grimaced. “I don’t know, and for some reason, I can’t find out. No one seems to know. Everyone who should know claims not to.”
“Bureaucratic snafu or intentional lockdown on information?”
