Word of Honor

by Radclyffe

  “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, Renée.”

  “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 front 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.

  Matheson pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Yes?”

  Blair was in midair when the front window shattered and the cabin rocked with an enormous explosion accompanied by a flash of brilliant white light. Her leg connected with something hard, but her mind was too scrambled to determine what it was. She heard gunfire, or maybe it was just the echo of that first blast resounding in her traumatized ears. Pain shot through the right side of her face and down her neck, and she sud
denly couldn’t breathe. Blinded, dizzy, lungs on fire, Blair arched her back, ignoring the crushing weight on her neck, and thrust both arms behind her. Then, she dropped to her knees and pulled with all her strength.

  *

  “Matheson!” Cam shouted, diving into the cabin, her rifle at shoulder height, frantically sweeping the space. Agents crashed through the back door, and the air exploded with yells. She pivoted, her finger tightening on the trigger as her heart stopped. Matheson grabbed Blair from behind, one beefy arm clamped across her throat, and lifted his weapon to her temple. Cam screamed “No!”

  And then, in one of the most beautiful moves she had ever seen, Blair dropped into a forward shoulder throw, catapulting Matheson over her head and onto the floor in front of her. With an action born of instinct and years of training, Blair gripped his head in both hands and in one swift, fluid rotation of her torso, snapped his neck.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Clear! Clear! Clear!”

  The air was charged with the smell of explosives and cloudy with residue. Cam ripped off her protective headgear and goggles and dropped to her knees by Blair’s side. Lowering her weapon, she pulled Blair into her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Blair said breathlessly. “Paula—”

  “We know. Emory’s on her way. We’ll get her to the hospital.” Cam cradled Blair’s head, her gaze darting over her face. A red welt marred her right temple where Matheson had jammed his weapon. She couldn’t quite believe that she was holding her again. She rubbed Blair’s arms with both hands, suddenly aware that Blair was shaking uncontrollably. “Did he hurt you? Baby, are you hurt?”

  Blair glanced down at the inert form sprawled in front of them. Matheson lay on his back, his hands lax by his sides, his expression one of mild confusion. “No, I’m…I’m all right. But God, Cam, I think I—”

  “Come on,” Cam said, guiding Blair to her feet. She didn’t need to check the body. She’d seen the signature jerk and twitch of his limbs when his spine had been severed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I want to stay with Paula.”

  “As soon as the situation is under control, we’ll go to the hospital.” Cam brushed Blair’s hair with her fingertips. Her hand was trembling. She wanted Blair out of that room, away from the death and the violence. She wanted so desperately to protect her from the ugliness and the hatred, and she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you leave the grounds yet. He may have a partner close by.”

  Blair wrapped her arms around Cam’s waist and buried her face in the curve of Cam’s neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “God, baby. I love you.” Cam stood in the midst of the milling crowd of agents and contract soldiers, rocking Blair, consoling them both. Valerie appeared in the doorway, the sunlight at her back, her face in shadow. Cam could feel her eyes upon them and she nodded her silent thanks. Valerie tipped her head in response. Then Valerie’s throaty voice cut effortlessly through the clamor of the adrenaline-charged teams.

  “We’ve got wounded here and potential hostiles still at large, troops. Alpha team—you’re evac. Beta team—secure the scene.”

  As chaos gave way to order, Valerie approached. “Ms. Powell, do you need medical attention?”

  Blair eased out of Cam’s embrace, but kept her hand on Cam’s hip. “No, thank you. Both Paula and Dana were injured.”

  “She should be looked at,” Cam said.

  Blair started to protest, but Valerie broke in. “I agree. But as long as it isn’t urgent, I suggest you take her somewhere secure, Deputy Director.”

  Cam wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulders. “You’re right. Thanks. If you need me for anything…”

  Valerie smiled. “I’ll keep you advised, of course.”

  As Blair and Cam started away, Valerie said softly, “Would you tell Diane I’ll be a little longer?”

  Blair turned back. “I’ll let her know you’re all right. And Valerie, thank you for…” She looked around the room. “For this.”

  “Not necessary,” Valerie said, “but you’re very welcome.”

  *

  “All clear,” Felicia Davis said to Emory. “You can go in now.”

  Emory jumped from the Suburban that had pulled in line with the one in front of Blair’s cabin and raced over the hard-packed snow to the porch. She leapt up the two steps and pushed through the open door. The main room was filled with men and women bristling with assault weapons. Just a few feet inside the door, Dana knelt by Paula Stark, both hands pressed to Stark’s left thigh while Renée Savard cradled the unconscious woman in her arms. Dana’s face was streaked with blood and an egg-sized bruise distorted her left cheek. Her pale shirt was nearly black with blood, and for just a second, Emory was nearly consumed with panic. Then her mind registered that Dana was not seriously injured, and as much as Emory wanted to touch her, she couldn’t. Not when Stark needed her more.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay,” Savard crooned over and over, her lips to Stark’s forehead, her face a mask of abject terror.

  “We need a stretcher in here,” Emory shouted to no one in particular as she crouched down. Dana gave her an anxious smile and Emory quickly smiled back before returning her attention to Paula. Her pulse was easily one-fifty and her skin was cold. “She’s in shock.” She raised her voice. “I need resuscitation fluid right now.”

  From beside her a man responded, “Here you go, Doc.”

  “Cut her jacket and shirt sleeves away,” Emory ordered while she tore the plastic wrapping off IV tubing. Then she inserted plastic catheters in the veins in both of Paula’s arms and connected the tubing to bags of fluid. “Pump these in. Then hang two more.” She looked over her shoulder and saw a collapsible gurney just outside the door. “Do we have MAST trousers?”

  “No,” one of Tanner’s team said. “Sorry, Doc.”

  Emory shook her head in frustration. “Let’s move her, then.” She inched closer to Dana. “How much is she bleeding?”

  “Not much anymore,” Dana said, keeping her voice low. “But she’s bled a hell of a lot.”

  “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Thump on the head. I’ve had worse.”

  “I want you to ride to the hospital and get checked out. I’m going to be busy with her for a while.” Emory feathered her fingers over Dana’s cheek, just below the bruise. “I was so worried about you. Don’t disappear, all right? God, Dana, I need to see you.”

  “Just take care of her. I’ll find you.”

  “Good. Don’t forget.” Then Emory stood. “Let me put a field dressing on that leg and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  *

  “I’m okay, Dad.” Blair cradled the phone in one hand while stripping out of her jeans and sweater in the bedroom of Diane’s cabin. “Really, I’m fine… What?”

  At the sharp astonishment in Blair’s voice, Cam took a step toward her, but Blair waved her away.

  “Of course I’m not upset,” Blair said adamantly. “I didn’t expect you to do anything except what you did. God, Dad. You can’t just give in to these fuckers.”

  Cam didn’t care if Blair wanted to be held or not. She needed to hold her. When she put her arms around her, Blair sagged into her.

  “I’m sorry,” Blair said to her father, her voice shaking. “I’m a little strung out right now. I just want to get a shower. Here’s Cam.”

  Blair broke away from Cam and held out the phone. “Tell him…whatever.”

  Cam waited until the bathroom door slammed shut and then sat on the edge of the bed. She was exhausted and keyed up at the same time. “Sir, it’s Cameron Roberts.”

  “You’re sure she’s not hurt?” the president said.

  “She’s shaken up a bit, but uninjured.”

  “How bad was it?”

  Cam closed her eyes. “Bad. Close call.”

  “I want a full report.”

  “Yes sir. Of course.”

  “You told Lucinda the th
reat was neutralized?”

  Cam hesitated. She’d only told Lucinda in a quick phone call that Blair had been recovered, that they had injuries, and that Matheson was no longer a threat. She hadn’t provided any details. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell the president about what had happened in that cabin.

  As if reading her thoughts, Andrew Powell said, “I’m her father, Cam. This is between you and me.”

  “Blair killed him, hand to hand.”

  The president sighed. “Well. How is she taking it?”

  “I don’t know.” Cam glanced toward the bathroom. Not being able to see her, even for a few seconds, was driving her crazy. “If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d like to finish my report later.”

  “Take care of her.”

  “Yes sir. I will.”

  Cam dropped the phone on the bedside table, unstrapped her weapon, and stripped down. She wanted to take the weapon with her into the bathroom, but the last thing Blair needed right now was to feel unsafe. She compromised by placing it on the chair closest to the bathroom door. She knocked, tried the handle, and finding the door unlocked, slipped inside. The shower was running, but Blair stood in front of the vanity, her hands clutching the edge, her head down. Her hair fell forward to cover her face, but it was easy to tell that she was crying. Cam cradled her from behind. “It’s okay, baby.”

  Blair turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Cam’s shoulders, pressing her face to Cam’s neck. “It was over so fast. I didn’t think about it. He didn’t care if Paula died. I had to stop him.”

  “Are you sorry?”

  “No,” Blair said after a few seconds. She raised her head and searched Cam’s face. “Should I be?”

  Cam smiled wryly. “No, baby. You shouldn’t be. He murdered one of Tanner’s men, he shot Stark and left her to die. He most certainly would have killed you and Dana once he realized there would be no negotiations. And that was just today.”