by Radclyffe
Assured that Savard was as safe as she could be, Cam ran quickly to the rear wall and put her back against it. Then, with her weapon arm cocked up by her head, she inched toward the open doorway. She suspected that Matheson's office was on the other side, since this was the building they had presumed was the command center. She hadn't seen anyone come out the front door, unless he'd been one of the first men to rush onto the parade ground as they'd landed. If he was, hopefully he'd been captured already. He might have escaped through a back door, or he could have gone out a window. She hoped that he was still inside, destroying paperwork or just waiting, foolish enough to make a stand.
She took one quick glance behind her and couldn't see Savard. She had probably moved behind the desk. Good. With a quick intake of breath, Cam swung into the doorway, keeping low, hoping to make as small a target as possible. A quick glance left, then right. There was one man in the room, standing behind the desk and looking straight into her eyes, as if he'd indeed been waiting. Cam held his gaze, but her mind was flooded with images. It was surprising the details that one noticed between one heartbeat and the next.
A maroon desk blotter was perfectly lined up in the precise center of the desk. A gold ring with a blue sapphire stone, a class ring of some kind, adorned his right hand. His clean-shaven, tanned face was expressionless save for a small smile on his thin lips, registering neither anger nor panic. That was odd, considering that a chain of rectangular explosive packs were laid out in front of him.
Cam couldn't tell for certain, but if those were C4 charges, she judged there was enough there to blow up a great deal of the surrounding compound, and everyone in it. From what she could see of the coils leading from the pale pink squares, he had not yet set the timer. When he snatched up what appeared to be the ignition switch and dove to the floor behind the desk, she had no time to think about anything, not even Blair. She catapulted out of her crouch, over the desk, and on top of him, grappling for his hand. He elbowed her in the throat, and she gagged, spots dancing before her eyes as she forced his wrist back, trying to dislocate it. He elbowed her in the neck again, and she felt herself losing consciousness. Just as she slipped away, she heard an explosion.
*
Everyone in the room abruptly stopped talking when Stark's phone rang twenty minutes before Blair was due to call Lucinda Washburn.
"Stark," she said. Her gaze flicked once to Blair as she listened, and she squared her shoulders. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. Forty minutes. Yes, ma'am, we'll be there. Yes, ma'am, ready to receive." She closed her phone and cleared her throat. "That was the chief of staff. They're sending a military escort to pick us up. I should be getting the coordinates by satellite relay right now. Ms. Powell, if you could get ready to leave immediately."
"Did Lucinda give you Cam's status?" Blair asked, her voice surprisingly steady, because she'd stopped breathing with the first ring. Cam would have called her had she been able to. This could only mean one thing. She was hurt. God, please let that be all.
"No, ma'am," Stark said hoarsely. "Just that they're airlifting casualties to McDonald Army Hospital in Virginia."
Blair swayed for just an instant before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Then we should go."
Chapter Thirty-Two
A military jet awaited them at the rendezvous point. Hara and Wozinski fell in behind Stark and Blair as they raced across the tarmac to the aircraft. A Marine lieutenant waited at the bottom of the staircase and followed silently behind them as they climbed rapidly aboard. The jet seated ten and had none of the trappings of their usual transportation. Blair made her way to the rear seats and slid into one, reaching automatically for the seat belt. Stark walked slowly up and down the aisle, inspecting the interior, as the jet taxied down the runway.
"Is there anything you need, Ms. Powell?" Stark asked quietly as she slowed by Blair's side on her first pass through the plane.
"No, thank you." Blair was grateful that Paula moved on. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think. She just wanted to be wherever Cam was. She'd tried Lucinda on the scrambled line, but got no answer. The significance of that was uncertain, but she suspected that her father's chief of staff was busy handling the aftermath of whatever had happened to result in casualties. Casualties. The very word made her feel ill. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and concentrated on clearing her mind of all thought. She focused on her breathing, letting the sensation and sound of the air flowing in and out of her body expand until she was aware of nothing else. Her heart rate slowed and her muscles relaxed as she prepared herself for the challenge that awaited her.
Stark crouched down in the aisle next to where Hara and Wozinski sat. She spoke quietly so the Marine would not hear her. "When we land, assume that no one is a friendly. That means medical and military personnel too. No one is alone with her except the commander."
The other agents nodded solemnly, neither voicing the question that was foremost in their minds, both wondering if the commander would be waiting for them at the end of their journey.
"Good." Stark stood and took a seat midway down the fuselage between Blair and the cabin door. She sat straight, staring directly ahead, with a death grip on the armrests. She mentally reviewed the things she would need to do as soon as the plane landed. She considered the positioning of the other agents around Egret and the fact that they would be understaffed for what had to be considered a significant security risk. She steadfastly did not think about Renee. She couldn't, because every time she did, a bubble of panic rose into her chest and threatened to choke her. And there was no room for it, no time for it, no opportunity for her to feel anything about anyone except Blair Powell.
So she didn't.
*
Mercifully, the jet landed at an Army base adjoining the hospital, and a jeep sat idling by the runway, waiting for them. Within ten minutes of touchdown, they were escorted through a rear entrance to McDonald Army Hospital. A muscular, dark-haired, olive-skinned man in his fifties, dressed in scrubs, met them just inside the doors. Incongruously, he glanced at Stark, who walked by Blair's side, and saluted smartly.
"I'm Captain Olivieri, the chief of surgery. If you'll come this way, please." He turned smartly on his heel and strode off.
"Captain," Blair said as she hurried with him, Stark on her opposite side, "we have several of our people who might be injured. Commander Roberts, Special Agent—"
"Yes, ma'am. I was instructed to bring you directly to the treatment room."
"If you could just..."
He pushed aside a curtain that enclosed the last treatment room at one end of a hallway filled with emergency equipment, suture carts, defibrillators, and other medical paraphernalia. "Ma'am."
Blair glanced inside and for one brief instant, everything receded from her consciousness but Cam. "Oh God."
Cam sat propped up on a treatment table, a pillow behind her back and an ice pack on her neck. An angry bruise on her right cheek extended to her lower lid, which was partially closed. Her eyes, however, were blessedly clear, and as soon as she saw Blair, she smiled. Blair smiled back, her heart lifting.
"Hey," Blair said softly as she started forward.
Cam looked past Blair to where Stark stood in the doorway. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.
Captain Olivieri said curtly, "No talking. That was our arrangement. If you try, I'll slap you in the ICU and put a tube down your throat."
Blair saw the oxygen mask sitting by Cam's right hand and realized that Cam must have taken it off. She looked anxiously at the surgeon. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Against doctor's orders, Cam forced out a barely recognizable word. "Star..." Her face contorted with pain and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes as if the effort had exhausted her.
Instantly, Blair reached for the oxygen mask and put it over Cam's lower face. "I take it she's supposed to be wearing this," she said over her shoulder. Her voice was steady but her hands were shaking.
> "It's humidified oxygen," the surgeon explained. "She has significant tracheal edema from the blunt injury, and-—" He stopped as Cam suddenly sat forward and pulled the oxygen mask off.
Blair narrowed her eyes and followed Cam's hand as she pointed vehemently at Stark once again. Nodding, Blair said, "Captain, do you have any information on Special Agent Renee Savard?"
"Savard?" Olivieri looked confused. "Yes. She's in surgery."
"How is she?" Blair asked quickly, watching the color drain from Stark's face.
"She should be out anytime now. They're just doing a washout of the wound—"
"How about giving us a quick rundown of her injuries, Captain," Blair interrupted when Cam stiffened and made another abortive attempt at speaking. Blair squeezed her shoulder. "Stop it."
"She has a nonthreatening GSW to the left lower extremity. X-rays reveal no evidence of bony injury, but the orthopedic surgeons wanted to irrigate the wound and make sure the lateral collateral ligament had not been damaged. She should be fine."
"Thank you, Captain." Blair smiled at Stark. "If you want to find out where they'll be taking her, Paula, go ahead."
Stark clasped her hands behind her back and locked her knees, trying to appear steadier than she felt. She swallowed once and then said clearly, "Thank you, Ms. Powell. I'll be right outside in the hall here." With that, she stepped back several feet and closed the curtain, giving Cam and Blair privacy. There was no way she could leave. It wasn't even a consideration, and she knew that Renee would understand. Renee was going to be all right, and knowing that gave her all the strength she needed to be patient. She leaned against the wall where she could see the hall in both directions and took a few gulps of much-needed air.
"Now," Blair said to Captain Olivieri. "Tell me about Agent Roberts."
"She has a badly contused trachea and a fracture of the arytenoid... uh, that's one of the cartilages forming the vocal cords. She shouldn't speak, and by rights, she should be in the ICU on a monitor, because if the swelling increases—" He frowned when Cam made a hand motion, waving him to silence.
Blair turned her back to the surgeon and put her face very close to Cam's. "You listen to me. I want to know. And I don't want to hear anything coming from you. Not a single sound." Then, very gently, she kissed her on the mouth. Keeping her arm tightly around Cam, she looked back at the surgeon. "Go ahead."
"Ah—well, that's it really. Vocal rest, a three-week course of steroids, and a laryngoscopy in ten days to check for healing. I recommended twenty-four hours in-house observation, but—"
"I think if you give me explicit instructions, I can see that Agent Roberts is appropriately observed. Several of my security team are EMTs."
He looked sheepish. "Yes, ma'am." He backed up. "I'll see that those are typed up for you."
"Thank you."
Once they were alone, Blair pressed her palm to Cam's cheek. "Does it hurt, darling?"
Cam shrugged.
"The truth."
Cam grinned weakly and nodded.
"On a scale of one to ten?"
Cam held up both hands, eight digits extended.
"Oh, then, that's not so bad." Blair rested her forehead against Cam's and closed her eyes. "I love you. I can't take too many more of these scares."
Cam wrapped her arms around Blair's waist and pulled her as close as she could, sliding one hand beneath Blair's hair to caress the back of her neck.
"I know. It's a million to one chance that it will ever happen again." Blair snuggled against Cam's chest, wanting nothing except to be in her arms. "Don't ever play poker for money, darling."
*
Diane was waiting for Blair when she came out of the bedroom after situating Cam for the night. "Well? What the hell happened? Where is Stark?"
"We left her in Virginia for the time being. Renee is going to be in the hospital for a couple of days so they can make sure her leg is okay. Paula wanted to come back with us, but I wouldn't let her."
"Is Renee going to be all right?"
"Yes. The surgeon said nothing vital was injured, and her recovery should be pretty fast."
"Thank God." Diane took Blair's hand and led her into the kitchen. "Sit. I bet you haven't had anything to eat all day, have you?"
Blair sagged into the chair without protest and brushed her hair back with trembling hands. "God, what a nightmare this day has been. I don't think I can eat."
"Well, you're going to. Scrambled eggs with cheese and toast. Comfort food, and it will get some protein into you." As she removed items from the refrigerator, she asked, "Do you know what happened?"
"Cam can't tell me, and none of the medical personnel seem to know. I'll call Lucinda tomorrow," Blair said. "But right now, I really don't care."
Diane put the bowl of eggs aside and went to Blair. She leaned down and hugged her. "Neither do I. At least they're all in one piece."
Blair laughed unsteadily and rested her cheek against Diane's body, welcoming the comfort. "More or less."
"I don't suppose you heard anything about Valerie," Diane said softly.
Blair shook her head. "I don't know anything, sweetie. As soon as I do, I promise I'll let you know."
Diane kissed Blair's forehead. "Thanks."
"I did some thinking on the trip back here," Blair said. "I'm going to talk to Tanner about buying this place. I think it will be good for us to get away somewhere truly safe. Tanner should be able to arrange the sale so that no one can trace us, at least not without a lot of trouble. I'm not even going to tell my father where we are when we come here."
"I think that's a great idea. As long as that guesthouse has my name on it."
Blair smiled. "Definitely."
"Perfect. Now, about those eggs..."
To Blair's surprise, she discovered she was hungry, and after finishing the quick meal, she made her excuses and returned to the bedroom. She'd left the bedside light on, turned down low, and she could see from the doorway that Cam's eyes were closed. As quietly as she could, she started toward the bathroom, but stopped when Cam opened her eyes. She changed direction and settled onto the side of the bed, leaning forward with her arm on the other side of Cam's body. "Hey. You're supposed to be trying to sleep."
Cam patted the bed beside her.
"You want company?"
Cam nodded and grinned, stronger this time. She drew one finger along the strong line of Blair's jaw, then brushed her thumb over Blair's mouth. Blair smiled.
"Commander, don't even think about it." She stood, shed her clothes, and slid beneath the sheets. Gently, she eased an arm behind Cam's back. "Can you lean with your head on my shoulder without hurting your neck?"
Carefully, Cam shifted onto her side and settled against the curve of Blair's body. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Blair held her, wide awake. She didn't want to sleep, she wanted to—needed to—feel Cam beside her. She thought of her conversation with Diane.
"Does it ever begin to make sense? "
"Once in a while, when you feel her next to you, and you know that that's the only thing in the world that truly matters."
Chapter Thirty-three
Monday, October 1
S avard heard the sound of footsteps on the deck and watched the door with a combination of anticipation and uncertainty. She'd awakened alone after arriving at Whitley Point late the night before, having cajoled and badgered the medical staff into allowing her to leave the hospital twenty-four hours early. Paula had slept in a chair by her bed and had risen early to check in with the commander. She wanted Paula's company, her comfort, but at the same time, she wanted to be alone. She needed time to find a place for the anger and terrible disappointment that had plagued her since 9/11, and she didn't want to inflict her doubts and disillusionment on her lover.
"I've got coffee and scones," Stark said as she edged through the doorway with a tray. "Hungry?"
"Yes." Savard smiled. She couldn't help it.
Stark appraised the position of Renee's l
eg, propped up on several pillows on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"
"It doesn't hurt much at all. Just a big old cut is all it turned out to be. If it hadn't been for the temporary shock to the nerves, I probably would've been able to walk on my own." She grimaced, still embarrassed that she'd put the commander's life in danger.
"You couldn't help getting shot, honey." Stark poured coffee and placed a blueberry scone on a paper napkin. She set them both on the end table within Renee's reach.
"I nearly blew the whole thing. Big time."
Carefully, Stark settled onto the sofa and laid her hand on Renee's thigh.
"But you didn't, did you."
Savard looked down at the strong hand. Paula loved her. Paula also was one of the few people in her life who could really understand what it meant to struggle against an evil so pervasive that the fight felt endless. Paula would understand that sometimes she just wanted to give up, to give in, to say it was all too much and to walk away. To have a normal life, where it was still possible to believe that the world was safe. She sighed and traced the tendons and veins on the top of Paula's hand with her fingertip. "It was close, for a while. I wasn't certain we were going to make it." She looked into Paula's concerned brown eyes. "For a while now, I haven't been sure I would make it."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Stark asked gently.
"No." Savard kissed Paula softly, knowing that the love this woman offered her was the one safe place in her world. "But I will."
And as she told her everything, she felt the first stirrings of peace.
*
Blair watched Stark disappear into the guesthouse and turned to smile at Cam, who sat at the table. "Between Savard on crutches and you barely able to manage a whisper, I feel like we're running a rehab center around here."
Cam grinned.
"Don't talk," Blair warned, joining her at the table. She sat down and reached for Cam's hand. "I'm going to talk, and you're going to nod. Okay?"
