by Radclyffe
"Is that all of it, Cam?"
Cam held her gaze. "That's the plan, Blair. I won't tell you that unexpected things don't happen, but there will be a hundred agents right behind us and about that many State Police watching the perimeter. It's as solid as these things get."
Blair ran her hand through Cam's hair, then tightened her fingers in the thick strands, pulling Cam's head down close to her face. "I can't take anyone else leaving me."
"I won't," Cam vowed. "I swear."
"Well, that's reassuring," Blair whispered, "because I know your word is good."
Then, in the last moment left to them, they made their promises - simply and surely - with a kiss.
Chapter thirty-seven
At twenty minutes to midnight, Blair walked into the command center. She halted just inside the door, momentarily disoriented. The room was brightly lit yet eerily deserted. Monitors flickered with images that no one watched. Chairs stood askew in front of desks littered with coffee cups and food wrappers, as if abandoned in haste. Here and there a jacket or sweater lay forsaken on a counter. The atmosphere of control she was accustomed to had been replaced by a lingering sense of chaos that made her heart beat uneasily.
"Ms. Powell?" Lindsey Ryan said quietly as she approached with a cup of coffee in her hand.
Startled, Blair jumped. She turned toward the voice and smiled ruefully. "I couldn't wait upstairs."
Lindsey nodded sympathetically. "Would you like some coffee?"
Blair raised an eyebrow, struggling to get a grip on her nerves. "I don't suppose you know who made it, do you? I've had the coffee some of these people make, and it's an adventure I'm not up to at the moment."
"Actually, I just made it myself," Lindsey said with a laugh. "Mac and Felicia are both glued to the communication consoles, and they probably need it by now."
"I can imagine, " Blair murmured, thinking of the twenty-four restless, anxious hours she had spent with them waiting for Loverboy to contact her. She stepped further into the room and looked toward the far end where the communication equipment covered the entire wall and every surface within reach of the swivel chairs where Mac and Felicia Davis still sat. She was certain that they hadn't moved in days.
"I'll take your word that it's safe then," Blair said, indicating the coffee.
The two women walked back to the small alcove where the coffee machines and refrigerator were housed. Blair poured coffee, then raised the Styrofoam cup to her lips and sipped cautiously. Ryan was right, it wasn't bad. She settled her hips against the edge of the counter and regarded the redhead silently for a moment. Finally she asked, "Is there any word?"
Lindsey shook her head. "Not yet. Mac has a direct line to Commander Roberts, but all we know is that she and Savard are on site." She hesitated, then added carefully, "Ms. Powell, we can only get a small piece of the picture from here, and sometimes an incomplete picture is worse that no picture at all."
"You expect trouble?" Blair said worriedly, recognizing Ryan's delicate attempt to tell her to leave. She hadn't come down earlier because she didn't want to distract Cam right before the operation began. Instead, she had forced herself to sit in her kitchen and wait. She had watched the clock approach eleven, imagining Cam putting on her protective gear and strapping on her weapons. As every minute passed, her anxiety had grown. She had wanted so badly to see Cam again before she left. Just to say -- just to say what she hadn't said before. I love you.
Her throat dry, Blair asked again, "Is something wrong?"
"No," Lindsey said quickly. "But I've watched too many of these things not to know that sometimes what I thought was happening wasn't really what happened at all. It can be nerve-wracking when you're helpless to do anything."
Blair laughed entirely without humor. "Agent Ryan, I doubt very much that anything will happen that I haven't already imagined. Believe me, knowing has got to be better than what I'm thinking. I won't get in anyone's way."
Ryan touched her arm briefly, a sympathetic gesture of understanding. "Come with me. We can wait this one out together."
*****
From her position atop an abandoned crane platform, Cam had a clear view of the entrance to the amusement park as well as the parking lot directly in front of the arched entryway. There were no functioning lights in the immediate vicinity, but the highway itself was not too far away and there was enough illumination from passing cars and the bright summer moon for her to see without night vision goggles. She could discern the outline of a few buildings - windows shattered and doors hanging from deteriorating hinges - surrounded by the skeletal remains of broken down amusement park rides. In the blue glow of moonlight it looked like a graveyard of prehistoric creatures.
Savard was on the ground directly below her, in shadows. Cam had reluctantly agreed with Doyle that Savard should take the point position. Cam was scanning multiple radio frequencies, but all she heard was the occasional query from Doyle confirming the position and readiness of the intercept teams. It was possible that their exchanges could be monitored, but she doubted that Loverboy had had time to lock onto their communication frequencies yet, even if he was in the area already. She checked her watch once again. Forty minutes had passed since Grant left Blair's building. She should be arriving any second.
*****
Ellen Grant looked out the window into the deserted parking lot as the cab slowed to a halt. Reaching for the door handle, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Thanks for the ride, guys."
She could not see Stark, who was slouched down so that she would not be visible through the windows to anyone watching their arrival, but her voice was unmistakable. "Any time. Just holler, Cinderella, and we'll bring your coach."
"Roger that," Grant said as she stepped out into the night.
The cab pulled away and Grant looked around, trying to get her bearings. Thirty feet to her left was the gateway to the amusement park but beyond that was only blackness. There was some construction equipment in the parking lot itself, but otherwise no sign of anyone.
A soft voice murmured in her ear, "We have you, Grant."
Her anxiety disappeared at the sound of Roberts' steady voice. "I copy."
"Proceed through the gates," Doyle's voice ordered. "You are clear to approach the rendezvous point."
Roberts' voice repeated the order, "Proceed through the gates only . Hold inside and give us a visual."
Grant spoke softly as she walked forward. "I can see into the arcade now," she informed them as she pushed wide the tall iron gates and stepped through. "There are pieces of equipment all over the place, most of them large enough to hide someone." She looked across the grounds for the building that Loverboy had designated as the place where they would meet. The refreshment stand sign hung askew over the boarded up door. "No sign of activity."
"We have no hit on the thermal sensors. There is no evidence of occupation," Cam advised her. "Advance slowly but do not - I repeat - do not enter the building."
Looking right and left, Grant moved forward, trying to ignore the cold stream of sweat that ran down between her shoulder blades underneath the heavy vest and pooled at the base of her spine. She was very aware of the fact that her head was unprotected, and that the body armor she wore could be pierced by ammunition available to anyone over the internet. She had to trust that Doyle and his technicians had done a thorough sweep of the surrounding buildings and grounds, because she was a sitting duck. She pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on the still, quiet night around her.
Nothing.
If it weren't for Cameron Roberts' voice in her ear, she might have thought she had awakened from a dream in an uninhabited world. She couldn't remember ever having felt so alone.
*****
"Anything?" Doyle barked at one of the men next to him who was searching the field below with night vision glasses and thermal sensing equipment. They had set up on top of a warehouse just beyond the amusement park. From there Doyle could direct all the
action.
"Nothing except the decoy," one grunted as he slowly panned the area. "Not even a stray cat."
"Somebody should radio the State boys and tell them that their perimeter is too close," someone else remarked. "I can see movement and we've got State Troopers almost on top of our people."
Doyle laughed derisively. "They're just looking for a little piece of the glory. It must get pretty boring riding around in those bubble cars stopping speeders all day."
The men laughed.
"Well," Doyle remarked in disgust. "I guess we're going to have to sweeten the pot if this boy is going to stick his head out of whatever hole he's hiding in."
He checked his watch and then keyed his transmitter to Grant's frequency. "Five minutes, Grant. If he's still a no show by then I want you to find a way into that building. If he's around, he might be waiting for you to commit yourself."
*****
Cam heard Doyle's order and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Something wasn't right. Lindsey Ryan had been certain that Loverboy would be here, because otherwise there was no point to any of this. If he didn't want to establish physical contact with Blair, then this was all a ploy to get her out into the open where he could make an attempt on her life. The refreshment stand was the obvious place for him to have set a trap. If he wanted to kill her, that would be where he would do it. Either way, he would want to be able to watch. He was here and they were missing him. And Ellen Grant was already too exposed.
"Doyle," Cam said, transmitting on his private frequency. "If we don't have a position on him, you can't send Grant inside alone. We can't cover her from here, and the place could be rigged."
"He didn't bring her all the way out here just to kill her," Doyle said, making no attempt to hide his scorn. "He'll show once he's certain that she's really going to go through with it. I'm not debating this, Roberts. She goes in."
She heard the click in her ear and knew that he had switched off. He was doing what he had wanted to do since the beginning. He was baiting the trap, and he was using her people to do it.
"Grant," Cam ordered sharply, "proceed on my signal only. Do you copy? Grant? Grant!"
Chapter thirty-eight
Blair stared at the blank computer screen, her mind miles away. She tried to imagine what it was like for Ellen Grant, walking alone into the darkness to face someone she knew had already killed with impunity. Despite her concern for Grant, in her heart, Blair hoped that Loverboy was waiting. She hoped that tonight would be the end of this nightmare.
She thought about Cam, watching Grant and trying to protect her. If anything happened to someone else Cam was responsible for, Cam would never forgive herself. It would tear another hole in the fabric of her being and kill another piece of her heart. Blair did not want that to happen, and most of her reasons were selfish. She was afraid that eventually, Cam would close off those parts of herself that bled for the wounds of others. And if that happened, Blair would lose the part of Cam that she needed the most. No one had ever been able to reach through the bars of her invisible prison to touch her the way that Cameron Roberts had. No one else had ever really seen her, not the way Cam did. She needed that, because without it, she was so hopelessly alone.
She did not know how long the words had been there before she noticed them. She gasped and pushed her chair back as if to escape from the reality of what she was seeing. "Oh my god."
Instantly, Mac, Felicia Davis, and Lindsey Ryan turned toward her in concern.
"What is it?" Mac asked urgently.
Blair's voice shook as she responded, "I'm not sure. Look at what just came up on the screen."
The other three crowded behind her, peering over her shoulder to see the message.
Egret. Are you there?
"Is it him?" Blair asked breathlessly. "Could it be a timed message he sent earlier?"
Mac looked at Lindsey Ryan, whose face was a study in concentration. She was furiously assessing everything she knew about him, mentally forming and discarding theories, trying to read his distorted mind.
"Maybe a stand-in?" Mac asked. "Someone helping him?"
"No, it's him," Ryan said softly. "He'd never let anyone share in this."
"What should I do?" Blair questioned.
"If she answers, he'll know she isn't in the amusement park," Mac warned.
Lindsey stared at the question on the monitor, considering their options and trying to predict the consequences. It was almost impossible for a rational mind to predict the irrational mind of someone like Loverboy. On the other hand, she, more than anyone else, had been trained to do just that, and her opinion was the best information they had to rely on.
"Lindsey?" Mac asked quietly. "I've got to advise the Commander. It's your call."
She looked calmly at Blair. "Answer it."
Hands trembling, Blair typed, Yes
I always knew you wouldn't come
"Ask him where he is," Lindsey instructed, her eyes riveted to the screen.
Blair complied.
I'm watching them look for me
"Jesus Christ," Mac cursed. Immediately, he switched to Cam's frequency. "We have communication from the subject," he said sharply. "You are compromised. I repeat - you are compromised."
Cam didn't hesitate. "Grant, evacuate now. Repeat, evacuate now."
On Stark's frequency, she ordered, "Institute retrieval. Retrieve your package now."
Switching yet again, she said, "Doyle. We've been made. He has visual. We are evacuating."
No one answered. She frantically opened all frequencies. Nothing.
She stepped to the edge of the platform and dropped to the ground. She landed a few feet from Savard. "Anything?"
Savard shook her head, her expression grim. "Commander, I don't see her. I'm getting no response on any channel. Com links are all down."
"God damn it - he's jamming us," Cam snapped angrily. "Let's go get her."
For an instant their eyes met and then they turned, shoulder to shoulder, and raced through the gates of the decaying amusement park into the darkness beyond. As they passed under the archway, Cam tried once more to reach Grant or Doyle. Her transmissions were met with silence. She looked ahead but all she could see was the blue black of the night sky broken by the silhouettes of the detritus of the abandoned park.
"Savard," Cam whispered as they rushed forward. "Swing right and cover our flank. If he's here, he's going to go after one of us. Let's not give him too many targets in one place."
Immediately, Savard melted away into the darkness.
The refreshment stand was fifty yards in front of her. She would be there in less than 60 seconds. 60 seconds.
Jesus, where is Grant?
Cam looked to the high ground, which is where she would have positioned herself if she had wanted to command the battle. In this situation the best vantage point was on top of a building, but the ones still standing in the arcade were in clear view of Doyle's men on the warehouse and they hadn't seen him. Still, out of habit, she scanned the structures with a sightline to the refreshment stand. Nothing.
Where the fuck is he?
She was almost there. The night had grown eerily still, yet she couldn't hear anything except her own heart pounding in her throat. She ran, her skin prickling with apprehension. She thought she saw a figure moving in the shadows by the side of the building. She raised her gun, slowing minutely, struggling to see through the shifting shadows.
There! Coming closer.
She sighted, her finger depressing the trigger just short of the firing pressure, when another movement far off to her right caught her eye. She jerked her head around in time to see the top car on the Ferris wheel swinging lazily, seemingly suspended in mid-air with only shafts of moonlight to hold it aloft.
"Savard," she called into the dark, not bothering to lower her voice. She was fully exposed and, at this range, defenseless. If he was going to fire at her there was nothing she could do. At least she could make sure he di
dn't get away. "He's on the Ferris wheel. Go!"
Just then, Grant appeared out of the shadows in front of the refreshment stand, calling, "All clear here, Commander."
Cam's shout to take cover was lost to the night as the building disintegrated in a flash of orange heat and flying debris.
*****
Savard was hit from behind by a rushing tornado of hot air that momentarily lifted her off the ground. She tucked her head and dove into a forward shoulder roll, letting the momentum of the blast carry her back onto her feet. Her gun was out and in her hand and, miraculously, she had managed to hold on to it. She refused to think about what had just happened. She couldn't think about Grant and Roberts now. She had only one thought.
Get him.
As she approached the Ferris wheel, she saw a thin shadow nimbly descending the exterior frame. She was a hundred yards away, and at that range - in the dark - she wasn't certain she would be able to hit him. If he made it to the ground, he would quickly disappear amidst the jungle of twisted metal and tumbled-down structures. She tried again to notify Doyle and the SWAT team of her location, but there was no response. Communications were still blacked out.
As she closed the distance, she got a clearer view of the figure that had just reached the ground, and for a split second, she hesitated. He was wearing a uniform. Could he be an advance lookout Doyle hadn't briefed them about? Or one of their own people who had just wandered too far into the perimeter?
She realized her mistake when he turned and fired, and that second of uncertainty cost her. By the time she registered the muzzle flash, she'd been hit and was already falling, a hot flash of pain spearing her left shoulder.
God it was much worse than she ever imagined.
The force spun her around and knocked her flat on her back. For a second she couldn't breathe at all. When she got her air back, she had to swallow a scream. Then she blanked her mind of everything except the image of him turning and firing. At her.
