Chapter Twenty-three 4 page

Cam could only groan.

"And," Blair said, her breath rushing in and out as if she'd been running for hours, "there's no hurry." Then she pushed herself lower until her breasts were nestled between Cam's thighs and her cheek was against Cam's abdomen. As she sucked and nibbled on the pliant crescent of skin edging Cam's navel, she smoothed one hand up the inside of Cam's leg, briefly cupped the vee between her parted thighs, and then slipped inside her fly again. This time, she pushed lower until her fingertips found the hard rise of Cam's clitoris. She wanted it between her fingertips, wanted to tug and stroke and twist until she felt the rapid lengthening and swift swelling that always signaled Cam's rush toward orgasm. She loved that power, that unbelievable intimacy, that singular knowledge that she and she alone could do this to the woman she so craved. Shivering, she forced herself to grow still.

"Touch me."

"Soon, darling, soon." Blair pressed down once, hard, against Cam's clitoris, making her whole body twitch, and then quickly withdrew her hand. Getting swiftly to her knees, she grasped the waistband of Cam's trousers. "Lift your hips."

In seconds, Blair had her naked. Groaning at the magnificent sight of Cam, neck arched and hands lying open, palms up at her sides, Blair tore off her blouse and threw it aside. She ran both hands up her own abdomen and over her breasts, tugging her nipples in passing and moaning at the pleasure. Then, her control slipping, she threw herself down between her lover's legs. She stretched one arm up to close a hand over Cam's breast as she simultaneously took her into her mouth.

Cam arched off the bed, both hands tangling in Blair's hair. "Going to come."

"Wait," Blair mouthed against the swollen, pulsating flesh, too needy to stop her assault. She licked and sucked and drank of her lover's passion, tugging Cam's nipple to the cadence of her lips working the stiff shaft in her mouth.

"I gotta come." Quiet, desperate.

"Nooo," Blair breathed, lifting up just enough to slide her fingers into Cam's silky depths. She pushed.

"Gotta come." Wondrous, pleading.

Blair bit down gently.

Cam twisted and jerked. "That's it. Oh...that's it."

Blair never let up, never stopped the thrust and pull that kept Cam clenching around her fingers, even when she felt herself explode inside her tight jeans. Whimpering, she rode Cam's climax until they both lay limp and panting in a tangle of sheets and sweat-slicked limbs.

"You want to tell me," Cam gasped, "where that came from?"

Still stroking Cam lightly, Blair slid up beside her and kissed her. "Wanna tell me what's in New York?"

Chapter Seven

Cam hiked herself up onto an elbow and studied Blair through narrowed eyes. "Did you by any chance just screw my brains out so you could extract information from me while I'm in a weakened condition?"

"But of course," Blair said, sliding her lips over Cam's nipple. "It's a tried-and-true interrogation technique. Of course, we reserve it for the hard-core cases."

"Very effective." Cam caught Blair's chin in her palm and eased that talented mouth away from her breast before the pleasure eclipsed what remained of her control. She kissed Blair swiftly on the lips and then guided her lover's head down to her shoulder, curving an arm around Blair's waist to keep her close. "There are things I need to do up there that I should have done yesterday."

"Yesterday morning we didn't know if there was anyplace in the world we were really safe," Blair reminded her.

"I know. And the only thing that mattered was getting you back here. But once Marine One picked you up, I probably should've gone back to Manhattan right away."

Blair struggled to contain her protests. This was about what Cam needed, not her. "Did you stay here because I needed you to?"

"No." Cam hugged her. "I stayed because I needed to. Since the day I walked into that loft and saw you in that blue silk robe, I've been doing what I've needed to do instead of what I should have done."

"Sorry?" Blair made aimless patterns on Cam's stomach with her nails, listening hard for what lay beneath the surface of her lover's quiet musings. With Cameron, she had learned that the truth of what really lay in her heart was in all the things she did not say.

"Never," Cam said immediately. "But now you're safe, and there are things I need to do."

"You said that." Blair raked her nails harder across Cam's lower abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan. "Now explain."

"That distraction procedure is working too," Cam gasped.

"I know. I'm waiting."

Cam grabbed Blair's wrist and pressed her hand firmly against her stomach to stop the torture. "Your apartment building is a crime scene. I need to get a look at it first hand before there's nothing left of the evidence."

"God, Cam," Blair said in surprise. "The FBI must have been all over that place already. There's not going to be anything left that they haven't already analyzed."

"I don't let other agents do my investigating for me. Besides, they're FBI."

Blair laughed. "Don't let Renee Savard hear you say that."

"She's the exception."

"What else are you planning?"

"To talk to whichever of our people are still around." Cam's voice held an edge. "I'd like to hear their reports before the special inquiry begins."

"You think they'll be under a gag order not to discuss anything about what happened?"

"Ordinarily, not from me, but now that my status is in question, I don't want to put them at risk for disciplinary action if anyone finds out they briefed me."

"I doubt they would pass that information along to the Justice people."

"A week ago I would have been certain of that."

"You still trust them, don't you?"

"I trusted Foster too." The bitter acid of self-recrimination burned her throat as she said his name.

Blair heard the frustration and regret in Cam's voice. "Hey. You're not the bad guy here." She circled her fingers soothingly in the hollow between Cam's breasts. "Remember, you saved my life."

That was my job, my duty, and I almost blew it. God. Cam brushed her lips over Blair's hair, "I know. You're right."

"Once those interviews are done, you'll be finished up there?"

"I also want to talk to Diane."

Blair sat up quickly, the sheet falling away and leaving her breasts bare. "Diane? Why?"

Cam ran her fingers up and down Blair's arm, aware of the steel bands of tension beneath the velvet skin, "Because she's your best friend. Because there isn't a better source of information about you on the planet. Because someone might have approached her without her even realizing it, and if they did, I want to know."

"She would never hurt me."

"I know that. But sometimes we say things innocently, without realizing the implications."

Blair shook her head vehemently. "No, not Diane. She's known me my whole life, and she's always understood the security issues. Christ, she used to fine-tune my alibi in boarding school when I escaped from my security details to meet my girlfriends. She would never let anything slip."

"I'm sure you're right, but I have to check."

"Of course you do. And of course you have to do it all yourself." Blair tried to keep her voice light, because she didn't want Cam to know how very much she didn't want to be apart from her right then. She knew she was safe in the White House and probably anywhere else she might go with the heightened security she was sure to have, although she never really felt as safe with any of the other agents as she did with Cam. But that wasn't why she didn't want Cam to be gone long. The attack on the Aerie—no, the attack on her —was more frightening than she wanted to admit. Mere blocks away, thousands of unsuspecting, innocent people had died for a reason no rational person could fathom. She had always known the danger was there, lurking in the background like an ominous shadow, but this had brought her true vulnerability home with undeniable clarity. Life felt so very tenuous, and being with Cam was the only thing that made it right. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"I had thought a couple of days. But if you're coming up with your father tomorrow, I want to be there. I may come back with you, it depends."

"Cam, I'll have a full security detail. Why don't you just—"

"No." A public appearance this soon after the attack was ill advised, but Cam didn't want to say that, knowing that Blair was not about to change her mind. Frightening her would accomplish nothing.

"It will be a new detail with a new chief. I want to be by your side. I'll get the schedule when you're en route and meet your vehicle when you arrive downtown."

"Stark can handle it."

"I have no doubt. But she's going to have a new team. And I won't know them."

"If being with me tomorrow means you going back to the city again in a few days, then I'd rather you just do what you need to do and get it done. I'll be fine."

"It's not going to get done quickly, baby," Cam said gently. "That assault team was too well organized and too professional not to have known the risks of discovery if they failed. We're going to have to dig, and dig hard, to find out who they were. And even that may not tell us who sent them."

"How long, do you think?" Blair shivered, but the cold was deep inside. Despite her best efforts, not knowing who had wanted her dead gnawed at the edges of her awareness, threatening her comfort and peace of mind. But if the question was to go unanswered for weeks and months, leaving the threat of another attack hanging over her, her life would never be her own again. Nor might her lover. Blair feared that Cam might become so immersed in the hunt that she would lose her to it. "How long?"

"Weeks, probably months. You're shivering." Cam tucked the sheet around Blair's shoulders. "Or we could get a break and have an answer in days." When Blair shivered again, Cam pulled her back down beside her. "Hopefully, closer to the latter than the former. You okay?"

Wordlessly, Blair nodded. The course of their days, it appeared, had already been charted. As had so often been the case throughout her life, she had no choice but to commit to the journey. And this time, with her lover by her side, she hoped that she would not lose herself along the way. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I shower."

A half hour later, Blair walked Cam to the private entryway that the first family used to come and go without the scrutiny of the ever-present press.

"You'll call me?"

"Of course." Cam looked past Blair back into the White House. A guard stood ten feet away, staring in their direction but appearing to register nothing about their actions or conversation. She glanced over her shoulder to the expansive gardens, noting the distant sound of traffic. Her shoulders tightened.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked.

Cam shrugged and grinned ruefully. "We haven't been apart for a long time. It makes me uneasy."

Blair smiled. "Sometimes, Commander, you say the most wonderful things."

"I love you." Cam leaned forward in full view of the uniformed officer and kissed Blair softly. "See you soon."

Blair put both arms around Cam's neck and pressed against her. "Be careful."

Cam kissed her again. "You too."

The ground shook as a bomb detonated, and then she heard the thunder of incoming fire. The roar filled her head, so thick she couldn't breathe. She ran for cover, the smell and sound of destruction engulfing her. The air was a thick black blanket, nearly impenetrable. She ran blind, one arm stretched out in front of her, praying she wouldn't stumble down a dead-end alley or under the wheels of a vehicle. The whine of high-velocity projectiles assaulted her eardrums, and she knew with absolute certainty that she was going to die.

Renee Savard lurched to her feet, her weapon in her hand, and pivoted in an unsteady circle, searching for the enemy. She banged her shin on the edge of the coffee table, and the deep, sharp pain brought her fully awake. Still, the rattle of gunfire persisted until she snatched up her cell phone, its digital readout marking its place on the floor by the sofa.

"Savard," she croaked. The room was dark. The night outside the windows was black. She fumbled on the side table and finally found the lamp switch. The light hurt her eyes.

"Are you busy?"

"What?" Her blazer lay in a crumpled ball just inside the entrance to the apartment she shared with Stark. What the hell?

"Renee?"

"What? Who? Paula?"

"Hey, did I wake you?"

"No. I just...I just walked in." When had she left the search zone and come back to the apartment? When had she fallen asleep? "Sorry."

"Is everything all right?" Stark's voice was quietly cautious.

"Yes. Sure." Savard stared at her left hand. Her fingers were clenched around her service weapon. Jesus. Quickly, she holstered her weapon and sank down onto the sofa. "What time is it there?"

"It's seven thirty. The same time as it is where you are. Renee? What's going on?"

Savard scrubbed an unsteady hand over her face and took a long breath. She forced a lightness she did not feel into her voice. "Nothing. Just lost my watch. I'm always a little disoriented when I don't have it."

"You're done for the night now, right?"

Done for the night. When had been the last time she'd been off duty? She'd left DC before sunup, reported in at the local field office in Manhattan, and gone straight back to Ground Zero. Search teams were still scouring the massive area of destruction, still hoping for survivors even while gathering evidence of the unimaginable damage. She and her fellow agents were still at the stage of gathering physical evidence, and everyone was working frantically while trying to deny the devastating knowledge that they had failed. She hadn't slept in three days.

"Right. I'm off shift."

"Look, you sound really beat. Why don't you call me back after you've had a chance to unwind."

"No, hey. I want to talk to you." Savard struggled to call up the image of the woman who had touched her just hours before and made her feel alive, of the tender lover who had held her in the night and helped her forget the fear. Love and gratitude for that woman hammered against the wall of despair that had somehow appeared around her in the last seventy-two hours. She knew the emotions were there even though she couldn't feel them all the way inside. But she clung to the memories nevertheless. "How are you?"

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Come on, sweetheart, tell me about your day." Just talk to me. Just let me hear your voice.

"Well, I've got some news."

"What?"

"The commander and the entire team are under investigation for what happened at the Aerie. They've all been suspended."

Savard straightened, her weary mind suddenly clear. "You've got to be kidding. That's ridiculous. Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

"Not me, honey. I'm the only one they didn't suspend."

"Why not? I mean, I'm glad, but why not you too?"

Even through the phone line, Stark's voice conveyed her lingering astonishment. "I'm Egret's new security chief."

"Oh my God. God, Paula. Congratulations."

"I guess."

"That's incredible. I'm so proud of you." Savard felt it then, the swell of love and pride and tenderness, and close behind it, a rush of relief. Somewhere inside, she was still alive. "I love you."

"Oh man, I love you too. So much. I miss you."

"Same here, sweetie. I—wait a second, I've got another call." Savard looked at the number on the screen. "I'm going to have take this. It's a scramble."

"Okay. Look, call me when you can, okay?"

"I will. I love you." Savard switched to the second line. "Savard."

"This is Cameron Roberts."

"Commander. How are you?"

"Fine. I'd like to see you."

"Of course. When?"

"How about now?"

Savard pushed her fatigue and the pain of the last few days into the recesses of her consciousness where she kept all the other horrors she'd witnessed over the years. "Certainly."

Chapter Eight

Cam slowly circled the rental car around Gramercy Park. Blair's building was dark, as she had expected.

"What's, the security situation?" she inquired of Savard, who had been silent for the short trip across town from Stark's apartment.

"What? Oh." Savard straightened and cleared her throat. "There isn't any."

"No one is detailed to watch the building?" Cam pulled to the curb around the corner from the entrance. "Didn't anyone consider that whoever ordered the assault might be just as interested as we are in what was left behind? Or that a second team might be waiting for Blair to return?"

"I don't know, Commander. I was pulled off the investigation the first day."

"Right." Cam fought back her anger at still further corroboration that this investigation would inevitably take a backseat to the greater threat of another terrorist attack. Added to that was the complete disruption of business as usual at the highest levels and the inevitable preoccupation of those in charge with what was sure to be a long siege of finger-pointing as to exactly which agency was responsible for the nation being taken by surprise. Still, seeing the clear lapse in protocol was a cold reminder that she couldn't count on anyone else to ensure Blair's safety. "Let's not assume that just because we aren't watching the building, no one else is. Is the rear door functional?"

"The door's there, but I'm not sure about the stairs. They blew the fire door from the lobby to the stairwell."

Cam remembered the thud of plastic explosives and the grating scream of twisting metal as she'd shepherded Blair out of the building toward the waiting vehicles. The men behind them had been so close, and Blair had been so vulnerable. A trickle of sweat snaked between her shoulder blades despite the cool night air. "Let's have a look. We'll walk south a couple of blocks, track back on Second Avenue, and approach the rear from the east."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Wait for me to come around." Cam stepped out of the car and walked to the passenger side, then leaned down and opened Savard's door. She'd worn jeans and a leather jacket to travel in and hoped that to anyone watching they would look like a couple headed out for an evening date. She extended her hand. "Just pretend we're together."

With Savard's hand in hers, Cam turned her back to Blair's building and walked south on Irving Place. Savard's fingers were like ice in hers, and she saw Savard shiver. Although the September night was chilly, she did not think it was the cold that bothered her companion. "The Bureau must be pushing hard on the evidence-gathering at the site."

"Every available agent is there."

"Working around the clock, I guess," Cam said mildly as she turned east several blocks later.

"Pretty much."

Savard spoke in a monotone, her usually animated expression flat. Cam resisted the sudden urge to put her arm around Savard's shoulders. Something told her the action might be welcome, but possibly more contact than Savard was ready to handle. She knew from experience that there were times when the only way to get beyond pain was to walk through it, unshielded and alone. "I'm going to need you to take me through the scene tonight. You were one of the first responders, and you saw it fresh. I'm going to need to see what you saw, smell what you smelled, feel what you felt—every detail. Can you do it?"

"Yes." Savard met Cam's questioning gaze. Even with her face illuminated only by the streetlights, the feverish intensity in her eyes was clear. "Yes. Yes, I can do it."

Cam nodded once as they turned north again. A few minutes later, they walked down the narrow access alley that ran the length of the block behind Blair's building. The turnaround where Mac and Felicia had parked the Suburbans was littered with the detritus of a hasty medical evacuation that marked the spot where Mac had lain shot and bleeding. Where Cam had left him to fend for himself while she took Blair to safety. She pulled a small, powerful Mag-Lite from the inside pocket of her leather jacket and shone it on the ground. While Savard watched, she walked the perimeter of the scene and then crisscrossed the area in a methodical grid, examining every square foot of concrete as she moved.

"The team from Quantico has been over this, Commander," Savard observed quietly.

"Uh-huh."

At one point, she squatted down and brushed her hand over the surface of the concrete. The stain from Mac's blood yielded no answers. She stood, clicked off her light, and pocketed it. "Let's go inside."

The steel security door was dented and the brick surrounding it for fifteen feet was pockmarked from the storm of bullets Cam, Stark, Felicia, and Mac had fired at the assailants. Cam's gaze swept over the bullet marks, her face registering nothing, as she fit her key card into the lock. The door opened and they stepped inside. Cam switched on her light and played it over the stairwell. Bits of plaster, shards of metal, and other debris from the explosion one floor up covered the stairs, but they were passable.

"You go ahead." Cam instructed, playing the light ahead of them as they climbed. Their footsteps in the cavernous space were a distant echo of the automatic weapons fire that had followed her down the same stairs only days before. Once in the lobby, she walked directly to the spot where Cynthia Parker had fallen. Traces of her blood remained on the scuffed tiles. Turning toward the entrance, Cam assessed the distance and knew that the assailants' plan had included eliminating the Secret Service agent on duty Tuesday morning. The security desk where Parker had been stationed was too far from the front entrance for any other scenario to have been possible. Parker had been lucky to get off a shot at all, and it was a testament to her skill that she had actually taken down one member of the assault team. They had come into the building planning to kill her, and they had known exactly where she would be positioned. Fury settled in Cam's stomach like a stone. Someone had set her people up to die, and it had taken more than a rogue Secret Service agent to do it.

"Okay—tell me what you saw when you arrived. The position of the bodies, what type of weapons, the amount of ammo the attackers carried, communication devices—-all of it."

As Savard recounted her observations in a steady unwavering tone, Cam played her light over the area as if highlighting action on a stage. Once or twice she asked Savard to repeat a detail.

"Who has the tapes from the security camera up there?" Cam asked as she illuminated the corner opposite the front entrance.

"All the tapes are at the regional office."

Cam nodded. "I want them."

"Commander—"

Cam angled the light between them so that their faces flickered in shadow as their eyes met. "I'm going to run this investigation, and in order to do that, I plan on getting all the information there is, no matter who has it. I want you on the team."

Savard's lips parted in surprise. "But the World Trade Center—"

"Is critically important, I know that. And I know that you want to be part of it. But the attack on Blair Powell was a threat to national security too, and"—Cam shone her light on the dark brown stain where Cynthia Parker had lain dying—"this is personal. Parker deserves justice too." She studied Savard's face and saw her pale even in the gloom. She didn't have to say that this could easily have been Paula Stark's blood flaking like so much rust-colored paint on the floor. "They came after us where we live, Savard. We can't let that happen again."

"No, ma'am," Savard said softly. "We can't."

They moved through the lower floors quickly. The apartments were all corporate rentals and infrequently occupied by business executives in the city for short stays.

"We'll need a list of anyone who stayed here in the last year, and another search on all property owners. The FBI databases should be good for that," Cam noted.

"Got it," Savard replied.

In the command center, Cam halted in surprise when she saw all the computers still present and humming quietly on standby. "Who the hell was in charge of this field operation? Didn't they realize that our computers might have been hacked for some of the information the perpetrators needed to carry out their operation? They might have left a trail."

Savard shook her head. "It's been crazy, Commander. We haven't been able to put together a cohesive team since Tuesday. Agents keep getting pulled to different shifts, the SACs are being shuffled around and no one knows why, and everyone is paranoid that they were the ones that missed some key bit of information that would have tipped us to Tuesday. Especially those of us who were in the counterterrorism squad."

"The CTS was established to analyze and coordinate data, not gather intelligence. There's a huge difference, and we all know that," Cam said. "You guys weren't to blame."

"But that's not going to make any difference now," Savard said solemnly.

"No, probably not." Cam dialed a number on her cell phone from memory. "Are you still in the city? I've got a job for you.. .tonight. I need you to strip out the hard drives from the computers in command central and anything else that might help us find out what happened here." Cam listened, then laughed softly. "Low-profile...yeah, you might say that. It could get dicey. You sure?.. .1 don't know. For now, why don't you take it all home with you."

Cam pocketed her phone and grinned at Savard, a grin completely devoid of humor. "We have another team member."

"Should I ask?"

"Soon enough." Cam took one last look around, knowing that they might never be returning to the command center again. The entire security system had been compromised. In all likelihood, Blair would need to find a new home. "I want to go up to the Aerie. I need to see what kind of shape it's in before she does."

"Her paintings.. .I made sure no one touched them."

For the first time since they'd walked together like lovers, Cam touched Savard's shoulder. "Thank you. If you don't mind waiting down here..." She handed over her Mag-Lite. "Here, take this."

"No, there's plenty of light from the window. You'll need it upstairs. I'll be fine, Commander."

"You will be," Cam said gently. "I'll be right back."

Five minutes later she stood in the doorway of Blair's apartment, Foster's blood a Rorschach print of anger and regret beneath her feet. She looked into the loft and remembered the first time she'd stepped across the threshold and confronted the first daughter. Blair had been angry, aggressive, and alluringly seductive. Cam had tried for months to pretend that she hadn't felt the sharp spike of attraction the instant she'd seen her. But the more she'd tried to deny it, the stronger the attraction had become, and the more time she'd spent with Blair, the faster her attraction turned to something far deeper. Now, she thought of the woman she loved and the conspiracy that had been hatched by nameless individuals to destroy her, and she felt the mantle of resolve settle on her shoulders. Beneath it seethed the desire for retribution, and at the heart of her, a clearer, cleaner paean for justice. But what drove her, and what would drive her until the danger had been annihilated, was the pure and simple fury that someone would try to take from her what mattered most.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 728