Chapter thirty

Mac held out the phone, a puzzled expression on his face, and said, "Commander? Egret wishes to speak to you."

Cam was bent over one of the nearby desks, replaying a segment of videotape taken in Central Park during Blair's speech. She was specifically studying the crowd in the general vicinity of Marcy Coleman, searching for a slim, 25 to 30-year-old white male, approximately five ten, a hundred and fifty pounds. That was the description Dr. Coleman had given them of the man who had handed her the envelope for Blair Powell.

"I'll take it over here," Cam said immediately, surprised and concerned. Blair rarely contacted her for anything official.

She reached for the receiver, the only indication of her disquiet a faint line between her brows. "Yes?"

"Cameron, can you come up here please?"

There was hollowness in her tone that set Cam's heart racing with anxiety. "Right away. Are you -"

"I'm all right," Blair said hurriedly, but there was a faint tremor in her voice.

"I'm on my way," Cam said, dropping the receiver into the cradle. She headed swiftly toward the door, instructing Mac as she walked, "I want a voice check with all agents. Verify that all agents are at their posts and that they have nothing out of the ordinary to report."

Mac straightened and immediately turned to the monitors, simultaneously activating his transmitter. "Yes, ma'am," he said sharply.

Cam didn't hear his reply because she was already through the door and in the hallway, keying the elevator to Blair's penthouse. Thirty seconds later she was at Blair's door. When the door swung open, Blair was standing just inside, waiting, her face pale. Cam took Blair's shoulders in both her hands and looked intently into her face. "What is it?"

Blair managed a smile, but the smile was faint and her blue eyes were deeply troubled. She extended a white envelope toward Cam. "This came in the mail."

Cam took it and studied the front. Blair's name and address were affixed with a common bulk-mailing label. It looked perfectly ordinary. The return address was for a well-known charity organization.

"I thought it was about a fundraiser," Blair said quietly.

Cam looked inside and the muscles in her stomach tightened. "Have you touched it?"

Blair nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking-"

Cam shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's never left prints before. Still, we have to go through the motions."

She looked around for something with which to tease out the white rectangle. Blair handed her a large paper clip and she hooked it over the corner of the photograph and slid it out.

Cam silently regarded the image of Diane Bleeker standing in front of her Upper East Side apartment building with a sense of fury and dread. There was a familiar red circle with an x through it drawn centered over her chest. Cam turned over the Polaroid and saw another mailing label affixed to the back. Typed on it were the words: Meet me or she's next

Cam placed the photograph back into the envelope and slipped it into her inside jacket pocket. Then she walked directly to the wallphone in Blair's kitchen and rapidly punched in a series of numbers.

"Give me SAC Doyle immediately, please. This is Commander Cameron Roberts, Secret Service." She looked at Blair as she waited, smiling faintly as if to say it would be all right. Then, she said brusquely into the receiver, "Doyle, this is Roberts. I need you to send a team to Diane Bleeker's apartment at 88th and 5^th Avenue ASAP. She's his next possible target. I'll fill you in at Command Central."

Blair said quietly when Cam hung up, "Thank you. I know you probably didn't enjoy making that call."

Cam shrugged dismissively. "The problems between Doyle and me don't matter. Diane does."

"Something has to be done, Cam," Blair said urgently, pacing in agitation. "I can't stand this any longer."

"Blair," Cam began gently, walking back to her, her face filled with concern. "I know how hard this must be for you."

Blair shook her head impatiently. She didn't want sympathy - she wasn't the one being shot at or blown up. "I don't care what it takes, Cam. I don't care what I need to do. I need this to be over."

Cam put her arms around her, pulling her close and holding her tightly. "Soon. I promise. It will be over soon."

Blair did not resist the embrace, but she said stubbornly, her body stiff with fear and frustration, "I'm okay."

"I know you are," Cam murmured, resting her cheek against Blair's hair. "This is for me."

Blair relented, because she needed the comfort of her. She slipped her arms under Cam's jacket, sliding her hands up her back, pressing her face to Cam's shoulder. Her hands met the leather harness of Cam's shoulder holster, and she shuddered briefly. There had been too much loss and it was draining her spirit.

Cam ran her hand lightly up and down Blair's back, caressing her softly. "The FBI are on their way to Diane's now. She'll be safe."

"Who will be next?" Blair said, her voice muffled against Cam's body. "Will it be one of you? Will it be Marcy Coleman - or some poor random person who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? I can't just stand by and watch it happen. I've got to do something."

Cam's stomach knotted, but she smoothed her hand gently over Blair's hair and pressed her lips to her forehead. "It isn't going to be anyone. We'll stop him. I need you to trust me, Blair."

Blair said nothing, and Cam's heart pounded with sudden alarm. "Blair, please promise me that you won't do anything without discussing it with me. I need you to do that. Please."

Blair leaned back in the circle of Cam's arms and studied her face. There was something close to panic in Cam's eyes. Blair had never seen her look that way before. "Cam-" she whispered, slipping her hand to the back of her neck, stroking her. "Hey."

"I can't lose you," Cam rasped, her throat tight with the anguish, the edges of her mind still raw with old memories.

Her haunted expression tore at Blair's heart. She sighed, and ran her fingers lightly over Cam's cheek. She could no more hurt her than she could stop loving her. "I promise. Just do something, please."

Cam kissed her, a kiss of thanks and tender possession. When she lifted her lips away, she whispered, "I will." 

*

Cameron walked into the conference room at Command Central and nodded to Patrick Doyle. As had become the custom, the FBI were lined up on one side of the table, and her team on the other. She and Doyle faced off once again from opposite ends.

"We have to assume an action from Loverboy is imminent," Doyle said immediately, his preemptive attempt to take charge glaringly obvious.

Unperturbed by his attitude, Cam nodded her agreement as she sat down. She'd played these interagency power games before. "What's the status at Diane Bleeker's apartment building?"

"Our team and the bomb squad are there now," Doyle informed her. "She's been moved temporarily to a secure location."

Cam's face showed no sign of it, but she relaxed as some of her inner tension dissipated. One disaster averted. "I talked to Lindsey Ryan at Quantico and brought her up to date," Cam began. "She believes that this is a real threat, and if he can't access his primary target - Egret, or his designated substitute - Diane Bleeker, then he may choose someone else out of frustration or anger."

She looked around the table, and she knew that she didn't need to repeat what Lindsey Ryan had already told them. Any of them could be next. "Egret will remain sequestered here for the immediate future. She's agreed to postpone her plans for San Francisco, but we only have a two and a half week window until Paris. Then she is going to have to travel, and she'll be visible again."

Vulnerable is what she meant.

Doyle waved a hand in dismissal. "It's unreasonable to keep her out of sight indefinitely," he said, carefully avoiding the suggestion that Blair's visibility was one sure way to draw out their UNSUB. Unconsciously he rubbed the fading abrasion on his neck. "On the other hand, offering Loverboy a meet is the best way to get him out in the open."

Cam saw both Mac and Stark stiffen, and she knew one or both of them was about to vehemently protest. She raised her left hand an inch off the table and both of them settled back in their chairs, their faces set and angry. Cam stared at Patrick Doyle and said very evenly, her voice completely controlled, "Special Agent in Charge Doyle, I am certain that you are not suggesting that we use the President's daughter as bait for a proven psychopathic killer."

Doyle's jaw bunched, and he answered stiffly, "Of course not."

"Then we needn't pursue that line of thought any further," Cam responded, struggling to control her anger. "Egret continues to receive regular email from him. He is using hacked IP numbers and routing messages through random computers so he is still not traceable. As was previously decided, there has been no attempt to block his messages, because it's our only means of judging his state of mind and potentially predicting his moves."

"Well, that's been a royal failure," Doyle remarked harshly.

Cam ignored him and continued. "Agent Ryan suggests that we communicate with him via email, as Egret, in an attempt to get more information about his plans. This seems logical. An agent with computer and electronics expertise will be joining my team later today. She can begin the exchange after Loverboy's next contact."

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone realized that this new agent would be a replacement for Jeremy Finch.

Doyle broke the silence as he said with a smug smile. "I talked with the Director on the way here. He agrees with me that we need to be more proactive if we're going to resolve this situation."

Cam didn't move an inch although every muscle became rigid. "Meaning?"

"We're planning on initiating contact, just as you suggested, Roberts," Doyle stated with an unmistakable note of condescension. "But we're not interested in dialoguing. We're going to set up a meet."

"A decoy operation?" Mac exclaimed in surprise. "This guy is a bomber. You can't send someone in undercover when she might be walking into a bomb."

"We assessed the risk to be acceptable," Doyle said brusquely. Straightening a pile of folders in front of him, he added, "We expect it will take several days to put things in place. We're bringing in our own person to establish electronic contact with him."

"It's a risky operation, Doyle," Cam said quietly. "There are other avenues we can pursue first."

"We've all waited long enough," Doyle said. He looked pointedly at Cam, his expression accusatory. "Too long."

Cam knew that she had very little to say about an FBI operation. It wasn't what she would've done, but her primary concern was Blair's security, and she admitted to herself reluctantly that the FBI were well within their rights to attempt apprehension their own way.

She pushed back her chair, having registered her dissent. That was all she could do. "I'd appreciate it if you kept us informed of the timetable. In the meantime, I'm going to have my team continue analyzing the videos and photos from the park."

This time, Doyle couldn't hide his triumphant grin.

"No problem there, Roberts. You'll be informed since we're going to be using one of your agents to work the decoy."

Cam placed both hands flat on the table and leaned forward, her body coiled with tension as if she might spring from her chair. Her voice was low, dangerously low, when she said, "No, Doyle, you are not. My agents are Secret Service agents. They are not decoys for the FBI."

Doyle shrugged. "It's already been cleared. We need someone with firsthand knowledge of Egret in case we get into a situation where a verbal exchange with the UNSUB is necessary. I can't brief a new agent on the kinds of things he might ask. The decoy needs to be one of yours."

For a minute, Cam couldn't think through her fury. Doyle had gone behind her back and essentially conscripted one of her agents for a potentially lethal mission. She stood, struggling to maintain her composure. None of them had had much sleep in the last seventy-two hours, and she was riding the thin edge of control. She had lost one man already. She was not going to lose another. "This is not going to happen, Doyle."

"It's not up to you," Doyle said, rising also. "It's been approved and your agent has already accepted the assignment."

Cam glanced quickly at Stark, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. Clearly, she knew nothing of Doyle's plan.

"This meeting is over," Cam snapped as she turned and walked out the door. Another second and she would have had her hands on his throat again.

Chapter thirty-one

Cam stalked through the command room, barking, "Grant! With me."

Ellen Grant jumped to her feet and hurried to follow her tall commander as she pushed through the door into the outer hallway. The elevator ride down to the lobby was chillingly silent. As they approached the double glass doors, Grant said quietly, "Commander, I-"

"In a minute, Grant," Cam said sharply, working hard to quell her desire to punch Patrick Doyle in the face. Ellen Grant was her agent -- hers to command, hers to protect. He had come between her and someone she was responsible for, and that was a serious miscalculation on his part. She could tolerate his personal affronts, but she would not tolerate anyone interfering with what was hers.

Grant set her jaw and prepared herself for an upbraiding. It would be hard to take coming from Roberts, because she respected her.

They crossed the street and Cam unlocked the ornate park gates, stepping through with Grant on her heels. Once they were inside, Cam slowed so that Grant could walk by her side. Cam looked at her and said, "Do you want to tell me what happened between you and SAC Doyle?"

Grant stared straight ahead, her tone subdued as she replied, "He contacted me this morning while you were on the phone with Washington. He told me he would need me for an undercover operation to apprehend Loverboy." She swallowed, recalling the strange conversation. "I told him he should speak with you, but he informed me the decision had already been made in Washington. He said that he needed my answer then."

She looked into Cam's face, her tone unapologetic. "I told him yes."

They had reached a secluded corner of the park, not far from where Cam had sat with Blair only days before. They stood under the shade of a weeping willow, Cam with her hands balled into fists in the pockets of her trousers, Grant unconsciously at attention.

"I'm not going to let you do this, Grant," Cam said quietly, although her voice vibrated with tension. "You're a Secret Service agent, not FBI. This is an undercover decoy operation, and you're not trained for it."

Grant straightened even further, a set look of determination on her face. "Commander, I respectfully disagree. I was a cop before I joined the Service. I can do this."

Cam smiled slightly, expecting nothing less from the spit and polish Grant. She was a solid agent in every respect, and Cam did not doubt her abilities. Nevertheless, she was not going to lose another agent, not in an operation that spelled disaster from the onset. There were too many people involved and not enough coordination. Janet had been a trained undercover detective, and she had died in an operation just like this. Cam wasn't going to lose anyone else.

"Agent Grant, I have never doubted your abilities. I value your contribution to this team, and I trust Egret to your care. This is something altogether different, and it's not going to happen."

Grant met Cam's eyes and she spoke her mind. "Commander, you may not have anything to say about this. I'm not certain that anyone can override SAC Doyle at this point. If I'm needed, and if I'm ordered, I'll do it. And do it willingly. Jeremy Finch is dead. You were almost killed." She hesitated for moment, and then said quietly, "The next time, Commander, he may be too angry to settle for a substitute. The next time it might be Egret. Commander, I want this assignment."

Cam looked past Grant's shoulder up to the penthouse of Blair's apartment building. They couldn't keep her up there forever. She doubted they could even keep her up there for a few days, nor did she really want to.

Blair was suffering - from the guilt of others dying in her place and from the conflict of being at once exposed to countless strangers - and confined by them. It was a conflict that was suffocating her and one that would eventually destroy her strength. Cam could not bear to see that. She brought her eyes back to Ellen Grant's steady blue ones.

"If it comes to that, Grant, I want you to know that I'll be right behind you. You're not going into this alone."

Grant smiled softly. "Thank you, Commander. That makes me feel better."

Finally, Cam smiled, too. "And Ellen - thank you."

When they turned and walked side by side from the park, the silence between them was one of unspoken communion.

*

Blair answered the door at the first knock. "Is Diane all right?" she inquired urgently as Cam stepped into the loft.

Cam nodded and went directly to the phone. She disconnected the jack and inserted a small rectangular box between the wall and Blair's phone. An LCD readout blinked on the face of the metal device, showing a series of rapidly cycling ten digit numbers. She depressed the receiver once to engage the scrambler, then handed the telephone to Blair. "Why don't you call her yourself? 212-555-1950."

Blair raised an eyebrow and pushed the numbers. A few seconds later she said, "I'd like to speak to Diane please..." She whispered a 'thank you' to Cam as she waited, then the first real smile in a long time lit her face. "Hey. How are you doing?"

Blair leaned against the breakfast counter that divided her kitchen from her work area and reached for Cam's hand as she spoke. "I don't think it's a good idea to try to seduce the FBI, Diane," she said dryly, a wry smile on her face. She tugged Cam closer, and Cam slipped behind her to sit on one of the high stools lined up along the center island in the kitchen.

Blair backed between Cam's legs, saying, "Yes, I know. They do seem to be criminally attractive, but I still think it might provoke an incident if you dragged one into the bedroom."

As she talked, she ran her fingers up and down Cam's arm. Cam shifted, spreading her legs so that she could pull Blair against her chest, slipping both arms loosely around Blair's waist from behind, cradling her softly in her arms. She rested her chin against the top of Blair's head. She sighed, too quietly for Blair to hear.

"I can't tell you very much. I don't know very much," Blair offered, placing her palm on the inside of Cam's thigh. Almost unconsciously, she trailed her fingers along the inside seam of Cam's trousers, listening to Diane tell her about the less than four star accommodations she was being subjected to. Hearing Diane's voice helped ease the ball of tension that had filled her chest all morning. But even in her relief, she was much more aware of the slight increase in Cam's breathing and the fine tension rippling through the muscles under her hand.

"She's here with me now... Yes, Diane," Blair said in mock exasperation. "I'm listening to her." She laughed, and added, "I said I was listening - I didn't necessarily say I was following orders. I don't believe domestication is an immediate threat."

As Blair spoke, Cam fingered open the top two buttons of her blouse and slipped her hand inside. Blair gave a slight start of surprise and automatically pressed her hips back into Cam's crotch.

"I'm sorry about this," Blair said quietly, trying valiantly to ignore the brush of Cam's hands over her nipples. "I trust Cam, and she'll get you out of there as soon as it's possible."

Blair reached behind her and found the button on Cam's fly. A second later she had it open and was tugging at the zipper. "I'll call again," she said, then listened briefly. "Yes. I'll be careful, I promise."

Before she said goodbye, her hand was inside Cam's trousers. She set down the phone and leaned her head back against Cam's shoulder -extending her neck, offering her flesh. Cam's lips were on her immediately, hot and hungry. Blair rubbed her fingers over Cam's briefs, smiling to herself as she found the heat she expected.

"Thank you for that," Blair said throatily, arching her back, pressing her breasts up into Cam's palms.

"What?" Cam asked dimly. She was focused on the way Blair's breasts filled her hands and the insistent pounding pressure between her legs building rapidly under Blair's fingertips.

"Letting me call her," Blair murmured, her eyes closed. She moved her hand back up to Cam's belly, aware of the faint growl of frustration from her lover. She smiled to herself, enjoying the power. She smoothed her palm over Cam's firm stomach and then pushed her hand under the waistband of her underwear, back down between her legs. She slipped a finger on either side of the firm prominence of Cam's clitoris, squeezing her slowly. Cam jerked against her, groaning softly.

Then Cam's lips were against her ear, her breath ragged, as she whispered, "Do that a little harder and you'll make me come."

"I intend to," Blair answered, a hungry edge to her voice. She moved her hand away and turned in Cam's arms until she faced her, still between her legs, her breasts exposed through her open blouse. She rubbed her hard nipples over Cam's shirt front, gasping softly at the fine ripple of excitement that ran straight down to her own clitoris.

"Put your fingers back on me," Cam pleaded, her eyes hazy with need.

"Not here. Not just yet," Blair whispered, stepping away. She caught Cam's uninjured hand in hers and pulled her upright. "I want you slow."

"I don't have much time," Cam protested hoarsely, following her nevertheless.

Blair glanced back, an enigmatic smile on her face. "You have enough time, Commander. The only advantage to our situation is that no one is going to question your presence up here."

Blair drew her around the corner of the partition into her sleeping alcove, then turned and reached for the buttons on Cam's shirt. "I've never made love with a woman in my own bed. Couldn't find one to pass the security inspection." She stopped long enough to kiss her, a deep languid kiss. She was having trouble keeping her hands from shaking she wanted her so badly, but she continued evenly, "Apparently, you're the one. Stand still."

Methodically, she opened each button as Cam submitted quietly to the slow torture, her hands clenched at her sides, shuddering with arousal. Blair stripped the shirt off and laid it carefully over a chair, mentioning almost as an afterthought, "It wouldn't do to get this too wrinkled."

When Blair began to pull off Cam's trousers, Cam's restraint wavered and she hurriedly pushed them off herself. In a minute she was naked. She reached for Blair, who stepped back quickly with a small shake of her head. Blair's eyes were laser bright and focused intently on Cam's body.

"No, you can't touch me," Blair said thickly. "I don't want to be distracted either."

Blair drew Cam to the bed and urged her down on top of the covers. Then, watching Cam watch her, she slowly removed her own clothing. As she slid the sheer silk off her shoulders, she drew her fingers down her breasts, lingering on her nipples, tugging them lightly until the exquisite sensation became too much to bear. As she continued down to stroke her abdomen, teasing ever lower towards the curls at the base of her belly, she kept her eyes on Cam's. Cam's eyes were dark and hot and her hands twitched where they lay on the covers. Cam's reaction heightened her arousal as much as her own caresses.

"I want to do that," Cam said urgently, watching as Blair's fingers slipped between her thighs. When Blair made a small whimpering sound, Cam was afraid that she might come herself. Hoarsely she gasped, "Blair, please."

Blair shuddered and pulled her hand away, knowing she was too close and not wanting it yet. Nevertheless, she needed contact, something to relieve the throbbing ache between her legs. Hurriedly, she moved onto the bed and straddled Cam's thigh, moaning softly as her swollen flash rubbed against Cam's warm skin. She leaned forward, bracing herself on one arm, and brought the other between Cam's thighs. She entered her smoothly, all in one motion, knowing that Cam was ready for her.

Cam's throat closed around a cry and she thrust her hips upward to meet Blair's thrust. The suddenness of it took her unaware, and a rolling wave of sensation followed fast upon the initial pleasure. Her eyes opened wide and she stared at Blair, stunned and already lost.

"Close," she gasped.

Blair was holding back her own orgasm with every ounce of her strength, but the feel of Cam contracting around her fingers and the tingling in her clitoris as she thrust herself along Cam's leg was too much for her to contain. She bore down, and as she felt herself begin to crest, she pressed her thumb hard along the length of Cam's clitoris.

Cam jolted off the bed with the first pounding spasm and wrapped her arms around Blair. They pressed their bodies together, groaning softly in unison as they joined in surrender.

As the contractions subsided, Blair curled up by Cam's side, her fingers still inside her. Cam's arm came lazily around her shoulder and they lay together, breathing hard and drifting somewhere just behind the boundaries of reality.

Eventually, Cam whispered, "If we keep this up, it's all going to come out."

Blair pressed closer, moving her hand upward across Cam's stomach. She rested her fingers on Cam's breast, not in passion now but in contented possession. "Yes, I know."

"It will be complicated."

Blair pressed her lips to Cam's shoulder, kissing her lightly. "Yes, I know."

"We'll deal with it, somehow," Cam sighed, her lips soft on Blair's temple.

Blair closed her eyes, stealing a brief moment of peace, as she whispered, "Yes, I believe we will."

Chapter thirty-two

"Anything new?" Cam asked, standing behind the two people seated in front of an array of computers, voice analyzers, video monitors and other electronic tracking devices. Both swiveled in their chairs and looked up at her. Both of them looked weary but there was also an unmistakable sense of exhilaration about them, as if they were enjoying themselves immensely. The ebony skinned woman, whose bearing was nothing short of regal, spoke first, her voice modulated by a slight accent that belied her European schooling.

"We've replied only twice since first contact twelve hours ago, Commander," Felicia Davis told her. "As discussed, I've made no attempt to engage him in any way other than a few verbal probes - who are you, what do you want, why are you contacting me. Things Egret would already have said, but the kind of thing someone might ask when they were getting tired of the attention. I've tried to attach a tracking packet to my responses, but he's using some kind of anonymizer program that is preventing me from inserting any kind of bug into his machine."

"If you could, could we locate him?" Cam asked her newest team member.

The woman who looked like she might have come directly from a Paris fashion runway shrugged, a small frown line darting quickly between her arched brows. "Theoretically, yes. With what I've been able to gather from the FBI's attempts to do the same thing, he's very well hidden. My guess is even if we get a fix on his machine, it will show up somewhere in Rumania or the like. He's rerouting his messages through a gateway, probably several. It's still worth trying though."

"This could go on for quite some time," Cam observed. "The two of you are going to need a break."

Mac protested, "We're fine, Commander."

Cam appreciated that Mac was reluctant to relinquish his seat as the communications coordinator in the unfolding operation that the FBI had cleverly named Love Bug because he was concerned that his position would be usurped. It had taken a call to Stewart Carlisle along with a threat to go over his head to the Director before Cam could get Mac and her new computer expert, Felicia Davis, online with Loverboy to begin with. She had argued that her team could more easily and efficiently provide the kinds of information that an online encounter would require. Carlisle had agreed with her and had pulled a few strings of his own. So, despite Doyle's objections, Cam at least had her people in on the ground floor of the operation. Nevertheless, the FBI were hovering, and Cam had a feeling they were just waiting for the slightest excuse to take over. She couldn't afford to have her agents burning out in the first few days of what might be a protracted campaign.

"Remember, Lindsey Ryan told us that Loverboy is very astute, and in all likelihood he's been studying Egret for years. Granted, there isn't all that much information of personal nature available on her in the public domain, but he'll still be suspicious if 'she' begins to behave out of character. She would be very reluctant to have any kind of dialogue with him, and any abrupt change in that pattern is going to tip him off."

Felicia nodded in agreement. "Understood, Commander, and we have been watching both the length of the exchange and the exact nature of our responses very carefully. Nevertheless, I don't want to miss an incoming."

"Agent Ryan should be here within the next hour and I would like to conference as soon as she arrives," Cam said flatly. "After that, you're both off for six hours. And I mean 'out of here' off."

They barely acknowledged her order before they turned back, heads close together, to a stack of printouts, intent on reviewing all of the previous communications from their intended contact. She knew she was going to have to force them out of the command room later.

"I'll be upstairs in the Aerie," Cam said as she passed the agent who was monitoring the building surveillance cameras. None of them had strayed far from Command Central for the last eighteen hours. Once they had decided to go forward with the FBI's plan to lure Loverboy into a public confrontation, she had put them all on twelve hour shifts, but she noticed that no one was actually gone for more than a few hours at a time. Everyone had a personal stake in catching the man who had cost them all a friend and colleague.

She glanced at her watch. It was ten-thirty in the morning, and it had been twenty-four hours since she had last seen Blair. She had been at the command center most of the previous afternoon, enduring another meeting with Doyle while they hammered out their respective roles in the upcoming endeavor. She had been forced to accept that the decision regarding Ellen Grant's participation was out of her hands. She had let it go, choosing instead to focus her energy on assuring Grant's safety. If she needed to be on site twenty-four hours a day monitoring events to do that, then she that's where she planned to be.

It had been close to three AM the previous morning when she had finally headed across the square to her apartment. She had stopped at the corner and glanced up at Blair's window. A faint glow illuminated the double panes of glass. She had wondered if Blair were working, and had wished for a moment that she were sitting nearby, quietly watching, as she used to watch her mother work when she was young. It was the kind of memory that brought a longing for something she hadn't known she missed and couldn't afford to consider now. She had shrugged it away and continued up to her small, impersonal apartment for a few hours of sleep before the battle truly began.

*

Blair stood before the canvas, a fine sable brush in one hand, lost in the sensation of color and contour, not thinking of anything at all. It took her a few seconds to recognize the sound at her door as knocking. She put the brush down and glanced once more at the painting, knowing that when she returned, she would have it. She turned and crossed the polished wood floor, glancing at the clock, surprised to find that she had been working for several hours. She hadn't thought she would be able to. She hadn't thought that she would be able to do anything at all except wonder what was happening downstairs. That and think about what she intended to do about being crazy in love with her security chief.

She glanced through the peephole out of habit and, as it always did whenever she saw her, her heart rate seemed to triple. She pulled the door open and leaned against the doorframe, regarding the tall, dark-haired woman in the immaculately tailored suit.

"You're early for the briefing, Commander," she commented, blocking the doorway. "We aren't scheduled until three."

Cam nodded gravely. "I'm aware of that, Ms. Powell. However, I have some pressing matters to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Blair said with a shrug, stepping back from the door and closing it slowly. When Cam turned, Blair had silently moved very close to her.

"And what matters would those be?" Blair asked, sliding her fingers under the edge of Cam's jacket, her voice a husky murmur.

Cam very slowly put her hands on Blair's waist and drew her near. Captivated by the variations of blue in her eyes, she answered deliberately, "Personal matters."

Then she lowered her head and kissed her. It was a long, slow, thorough kiss that spoke of longing and desire and something else. Something beyond words, at once tender and heavy with need. When Cam lifted her mouth from Blair's, they stood silently, arms around one another, just feeling.

Finally, Blair stepped back, a crooked smile on her lips. "I'm glad you had them turn off the surveillance cameras in here."

Cam grinned. "So am I - although this wasn't what I had in mind at the time."

"Can you talk about what's happening with - all of it?"

Cam laughed, trying to ignore the insistent throbbing deep in her gut. "Well, my attention is on something different at the moment. I'd better have some coffee if you want me to think."

Blair took her arm and started to pull her towards the kitchen. Then she hesitated, turned, and grasped Cam's face with both hands. She pulled her head down and kissed her, hard and fierce. When she pulled away her knees felt weak and Cam looked slightly stunned.

"Well," Blair gasped softly, running her hands over Cam's chest. "Now I guess I'd better have some of that coffee, too."

A few moments later they sat facing one another at the counter, their hands lightly touching.

"What's going on?" Blair asked quietly.

Cam told her about Doyle and Grant and the operation underway.

Blair watched Cam's face while she talked, listening for the things she wasn't saying. She had spent her life listening to her father and his associates discuss everything from foreign policy to armed intervention, and she knew something about strategy. She also recognized when some things were being glossed over or omitted altogether.

"You can't intend for Grant to take him on herself?" Blair said when Cam finished outlining the basics of the plan.

Cam shook her head. "No. Once we establish rapport and convince him that he really is speaking to you, we hope he'll reveal something to help us trace him. Some reference to location, some historical fact -- something to give us a fix on his physical location."

"And if that doesn't work?" Blair asked quietly.

"Then we'll set up a meet under the pretext that you don't want anyone else endangered, and lay a trap for him that way."

"He might just lay a trap for -- me," Blair stated. And he lays his with bombs.

"He might," Cam allowed. "But we'll have dozens of agents securing the area, and if he's anywhere near the meet site, which Ryan assures us he will be, we'll have him."

"What about Grant?"

Cam's stomach tightened but her voice was sure. Uncertainty could not be entertained once an operation was underway. "She'll be wired and armored and hopefully she won't get close enough to be in any real danger. We just need her to leave here as you, in case he's watching the building, and to be visible approaching the meet location."

Blair was silent for a moment, then she asked, "Who's going with her as back up?"

"Savard," Cam said. She met Blair's eyes and added softly, "and me."

Blair stood abruptly and walked to the far side of the loft, her back to the room, looking out the tall windows toward the park. Cam sat for a moment, her good sense warring with an uncomfortable need to make Blair understand. She stared across the room at Blair's rigid back, telling herself that she should simply go back to work and do what needed to be done. But if she did, she knew that she would only be bringing part of herself to the job. The other part would be wondering about Blair, and that fact aggravated her almost as much as the cold silence in the room.

"Blair," Cam said quietly, crossing to stand behind her. She did not touch her, because the anger was nearly a palpable barrier between them.

Blair held up a hand, not turning, her voice harsh and clipped. "Don't, Cam. Do not tell me it's safe or any other such fairy tale about the brilliant planning of our security agencies. I know the track records."

Cam did touch her then, because she had to. She was finding that distance between them was harder and harder to bear. She didn't want to think about what that might mean, particularly not now. She rested her hands very lightly on Blair's waist, stepping near but not trying to hold her. "Everyone agrees that the risk is low."

Blair made a faint choking sound that might have been a laugh, or a sob. She turned abruptly to face her, pushing Cam's hands away. "Just when did you start thinking that I was stupid, Cam? Before or after we fucked?"

"Goddamn it, Blair," Cam growled, trying hard to hold onto her temper, "I know damn well you aren't stupid. The risks are low."

"I suppose you think that it wouldn't occur to me that Jeremy Finch is dead and you were almost killed once already? Or do you think I've simply lost my mind?"

"If anyone has lost their mind, it's me," Cam snapped, her dark eyes flashing with fury. "And it wasn't when we fucked. It happened the first time I walked into this room and you had the arrogance to come on to me like I was some rookie you could lead around by my proverbial dick."

"Well, that didn't work very well, did it?" Blair seethed, looking pointedly at Cam's crotch and then back to her face. "And it has nothing to do with the particulars of your anatomy."

"Actually, it must have worked," Cam said with irritation, running a hand through her hair, tousling the dark locks into the disheveled look that Blair found so sexy, "because I haven't been able to make a single decision since that morning without worrying about you."

Blair stared at her, remembering their first meeting and her surprise at discovering that her new security chief not only wasn't intimidated by her but actually seemed intent on working with her. "I never asked you to worry about me," she remarked, the sharp edges of her rage softening as she looked at her.

"I know that," Cam said, her voice intense, "but I do." She waited a beat, and then said even more quietly, "I didn't want you to care."

"I know that," Blair whispered, and added even more softly, "but I do."

They both moved at once, closing the distance, slipping into one another's arms.

"I'll be careful…"

"Be careful…"

Cam kissed Blair's temple, murmuring, "I'll wear a vest, and I'll have Savard. She's good. We'll have plenty of backup nearby, too."

Blair pressed her lips to Cam's neck, feeling her blood pulse through the arteries just under the skin. So fragile. She took a deep breath, forcing the fear away, burying it deep inside.

"She'd better be as good as she looks," Blair threatened, "or I'll be forced to hurt her."

Chapter thirty-three

Cam leaned over an array of printouts on the table in the glass-walled conference room, talking to Patrick Doyle and working hard to ignore her intense dislike for the man.

Just get the job done and make sure Grant is well protected in the process. That's all that matters, she reminded herself.

When Doyle failed to respond to one of her questions, she glanced up from the transcript of the last communication with Loverboy and caught the FBI agent staring past her out into the main area of the command center. The look on his face was a startling mixture of displeasure and something that looked very much like lust. She turned and followed his gaze and when she saw that he was looking at Blair, her simmering anger flared hotly into fury. The way he stared at her was almost an invasion.

"Do you have a problem of some kind, Doyle?" she demanded.

"You don't seem to have much control over her, Roberts," Doyle said derisively. "She shouldn't be down here."

"It's not my job to 'control' her," Cam said as evenly as she could. "And there is absolutely no reason that she shouldn't go anywhere she likes."

He turned and studied her as if she were some strange life form. "Civilians complicate matters, Roberts. Especially civilians with opinions - and friends in high places."

"I'm not concerned about anything that Ms. Powell might have to say to anyone about anything," Cam remarked. She folded up her notebook and turned to leave.

"You might change your mind before this is all over," he called after her.

She closed the door without looking back. She threaded her way through the desks and the mountains of monitoring equipment that seemed to grow in number and complexity every day. Their working space had been adequate for routine day to day matters, but now that Doyle's team had practically moved on site, and Lindsey Ryan was staying to monitor the Internet communications with their UNSUB, and the ATF bomb squad was coming and going with information about the latest analysis on the bomb fragments from the park, the room was crowded with people and makeshift workstations.

Nevertheless, the communications station at the far end of the room remained somewhat insulated from the rest of the activity. Everyone knew that Felicia Davis should not be distracted. Mac was with her most of the time, primarily to retrieve any data that she might need to respond to Loverboy. At the moment, Blair was leaning down over Felicia Davis, speaking to her with a serious expression on her face.

It was the second full day of the operation, and there had only been sparse e-mail exchange between Felicia Davis, posing as Blair, and Loverboy. A temporal analysis of his previous communications revealed that he sent a message nearly every day. Frequently it was only a few words or a single line. Lindsey Ryan hypothesized that he not only needed to satisfy his own compulsion to communicate with Blair, but he wanted to prove that he could reach her. His skills extended beyond bomb making and marksmanship, and, despite all attempts to thwart him with shields and aliases and rerouting her mail servers, it never took him long to track her down.

Blair tolerated his messages because she refused to give up her own access to the Internet, and in an oddly understandable way, she had not want to be cut off from him either. She would not live in a cocoon as if nothing were happening. She wanted to 'hear' his voice if he was threatening her.

As Cam drew near, she heard Blair say, "I'm the best one to do this."

Immediately, Cam's stomach began churning uneasily, because she had a feeling she knew what Blair was talking about. She had defended Blair's presence in the command center to Doyle, and in fact she believed precisely what she had said. Nevertheless, she had hoped that Blair would stay away, if only because the tension and uncertainty was wearing for all of them, and she wished to spare her that. But in her heart, she had expected something like this.

Blair straightened and nodded to Cam, her face revealing none of the quick pleasure she took in seeing her. "Good morning, Commander."

"Ms. Powell," Cam said warmly, stopping behind the chairs occupied by Mac and Felicia Davis. "Is there some way I can be of service?"

Blair struggled not to smile, but she knew Cam could see the laughter in her eyes. She resisted the urge to make a clever comeback, only because she didn't trust her voice not to give her away. Being around Cam never failed to arouse her, and she knew it would show in the timbre of her voice. It was bad enough she could feel the liquid heat beginning between her legs. "It occurred to me this morning, Commander, that I should be the one emailing Loverboy. There's no reason to use a go-between in this exchange."

Cam hesitated for a moment, needing the time to formulate an answer that would be both honest and convincing. She wouldn't lie to her, not only because she had never been able to, but because she could not bring herself to even try. On the other hand, the thought of Blair being involved so intimately with this man, even when there was no chance of physical connection between them, made her almost physically ill. "The reason we're using an agent is because our people know how to manipulate the conversation to get the information we need. Plus, Agent Davis is aware of the things we need to know to secure the meeting site."

Blair listened, watching Cam's face carefully. Her security chief was very good at keeping her emotions completely compartmentalized. Her lover, however, was not. There was a flicker of worry in Cam's eyes - worry for her - and Blair saw it. She smiled softly, and nodded patiently in agreement. "That makes perfect sense, Commander. However, I don't propose to start emailing him from my apartment. I would do everything right here with Mac and Agent Davis by my side. They could certainly coach me in any procedural things I might need to say much more easily than Agent Davis could pretend to be me. It seems to me there's far less likelihood that he would become suspicious if it actually were me."

Cam glanced at Mac, who raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded even more imperceptibly.

"You've caught me somewhat unprepared, Ms. Powell," Cam said quietly, and this time Blair could read nothing in her eyes. "I need to discuss this with Agent Ryan and some others."

"I understand that. Would you let me know what you think once you've done that?"

"Certainly," Cam said.

Blair watched her walk away and wondered just how angry she really was.

*

"You outflanked me down there," Cam said when she stepped into the loft.

Blair leaned against the arm of her leather sofa, regarding Cam carefully. Cam hadn't moved once the door was closed, and her hands were in her pockets. She definitely had her game face on.

"You know," Blair said quietly. "I haven't touched you in almost a day. I don't think I have the energy to fight."

Cam sighed and took her hands from her pockets. She shrugged out of her blazer and released the buckle on her shoulder harness, easing it off her still sore right shoulder and placing it with her jacket. As she walked the few steps toward Blair, she pulled her shirt from beneath the waistband of her trousers. She didn't stop moving when she reached Blair, but put one thigh between Blair's legs and a hand behind her back and tumbled her over the arm of the plush leather sofa onto the seat. Cam ended up on top of her, and pushed herself up with her good arm so she could see Blair's face. Her voice was slow and deep when she said, "You can touch me now."

Blair slid both hands under the tail of Cam's shirt and raked her nails up Cam's sides, drawing a swift gasp from her. When she found her breasts, she caressed them softly, then tightened her fingers on Cam's small, hard nipples. Cam closed her eyes and groaned. Blair kept up the rhythm, squeeze and release, squeeze and release, until Cam was stiff with the pleasure-pain of it and trembling.

Their legs were entwined, and Blair felt Cam's heat against her thigh even as she felt her own arousal soaking into her jeans. When Cam lowered her head and caught the tender skin at the base of her neck between her teeth, Blair cried out once, sharply, and then managed to speak. "Bedroom. Bed. I need you naked on me."

Cam could hear her, but the words weren't registering as she thrust her hips faster into Blair's. After they had been apart it was always like this. She couldn't control the rocketing surge of excitement that brought her too high too fast, until she was teetering on the brink and ready to go off in seconds. She was ready now, she could feel it curling in the base of her spine, tingling down her legs, cramping in her muscles. Oh yeah, she was going off soon.

Blair pushed Cam's hips away, breaking their contact, dragging Cam back from the edge. Cam gasped, lowering her forehead to Blair's chest, shuddering uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she groaned. "I can't hold it back."

Blair eased away from her, one hand caressing the damp strands of hair at the back of her neck. "Yes, you can," she crooned softly. "Remember, you're a Secret Service agent."

Cam laughed shakily and sat up, her hands falling open by her sides, her shirt open, her body on fire and glistening with sweat. "I'm afraid I'm compromised."

"Just the way I like you." Blair held out her hand, her color high and her eyes blazing. "Let's go do that some more."

By the time they reached the bedroom, Cam had regained a slim thread of control and managed to undress and lie down next to her.

"Let me just touch you for a minute," Cam said, her voice still unsteady. "I don't trust myself just yet and I don't want to come right away."

"It's a tough order to follow, but I'll try," Blair said with a smile.

Cam started at her shoulders and ran her hands down Blair's body, watching in wonder as the fine muscles shimmered under her fingertips and the blood rose to warm the skin beneath her hands. Blair's breath came fast, and every now and then a small sound of pleasure escaped her. When Cam trailed her fingers lightly up the inside of Blair's thigh, Blair arched her hips and the fingers she had laced through Cam's hair trembled with urgency.

"You have the sweetest touch," Blair whispered, her voice choked with need.

Cam was barely breathing. Every time they were together like this the pleasure was so intense, she felt like she was bleeding. She had never felt so vulnerable nor so helpless nor so blessed. It was almost more than she could tolerate. She slid one finger between Blair's legs, tracing the delicate folds and swollen ridges. Blair's pulse raced against her fingertips, and when she brushed lightly along the underside of her clitoris, Blair jerked in her arms. Cam circled her harder and put her mouth to Blair's, wanting her breath, wanting her blood, wanting all of her.

Blair wrapped her arms around Cam's shoulders, pressing her breasts to Cam's chest, clinging to her, desperate for the sweet release. She rocked her hips faster against Cam's hand, knowing she would come any second.

Cam felt Blair's heart hammer against her own and sensed the rising tension in her body. When she knew Blair was there, she lifted her lips from Blair's and said softly against her ear, "Touch me now."

Ready to explode, Blair reached for her blindly, and when she found her - hard and swollen and so ready - she couldn't stop her own momentum. Even as it began, wrenching through her, forcing her almost double with the clench of muscles deep inside, she pressed her fingers along Cam's length the way she knew Cam needed it. Cam jerked and groaned and came with her.

Then they held one another and rested.

Chapter thirty-four

Cam slept, her head on Blair's chest. Blair ran her fingers absently through Cam's hair, marveling at the sensation of being able to hold her. One floor below them a dramatic tableau played out, but here, for the moment, all that mattered to her was the woman in her arms. It was unnerving, and more than a little terrifying.

She had spent most of her life surrounded by people, alone. She had learned to ignore the isolation and had discovered in her solitude the creative insight that inspired her art. Her work centered and defined her, and she would not change that. But each time she opened herself a little more to Cameron, she discovered another place in herself, another dimension of emotion. What frightened her most was knowing that without Cam, those places would ache - empty and waiting - a deadly wound she would never be able to heal. She shivered and held Cam closer.

"Are you cold?" Cam murmured.

"No," Blair said, her voice still unsteady. Loving was a dangerous thing, the cost so high, and she struggled not to flee.

Cam moved her hand from Blair's thigh, where it had lain since she had fallen asleep, and brought it to Blair's breast, softly caressing the firm warm flesh. She moved her head an inch and lightly kissed the tight pink nipple. "What is it then?"

"Nothing," Blair said quietly.

Cam nuzzled her face against the side of Blair's neck and whispered, "Blair." She kissed the curve of her jaw. "I love you."

Blair caught her breath, trapped between need and a lifetime of denying it. "Cam," she breathed, amazed and still uncertain.

Cam pushed herself up on one elbow, gently tracing her fingers over Blair's face and down her neck, finding in her unguarded gaze what Blair could not put into words. "It's all right," she murmured.

"So you say," Blair whispered, wishing she could just keep her there, where it was safe.

"I should go," Cam said reluctantly, moving away a little because the heat of Blair's skin was arousing her again. She kissed the tip of Blair's chin, and then her mouth. "I'll be back."

"Good," Blair said softly, raising her head to claim Cam's mouth one last time.

A few moments later, Blair sat curled up on the sofa in nothing but an oversized T-shirt, watching Cam pull her clothes into order and strap on her weapon.

"Are you very angry about this morning?"

Cam stopped what she was doing and looked at Blair, who still wore a slightly bruised and hazy expression from their recent lovemaking. She wanted nothing in that moment as much as she wanted to touch her again. "Probably," she said evenly, reaching for her jacket.

"I thought you might be," Blair said dryly.

Fully clothed, Cam regarded Blair steadily. "Then why did you do it?"

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do."

Cam blew out a breath and looked past Blair toward the wide, tall windows and the golden afternoon sun visible beyond. She forced herself to ignore her concerns and consider the facts. She tried not to think about Blair talking to him. She tried not to think about the fact that this nameless, faceless man wanted her, that he lay awake at night thinking about touching her, that during the day he set traps to destroy her. She finally looked back to Blair, who had been watching her silently and waiting. "You were right."

She turned and started for the door and Blair rose quickly, following her. She reached her just as Cam grasped the doorknob, stopping her by threading her arms around Cam's waist from behind. She laid her cheek against Cam's back. "I'll be down in a little while."

"Yes," Cam said.

"It wasn't my intention to make your angry," Blair said softly.

Cam turned and gently lifted Blair's face in both hands. She looked into her deep blue eyes and smiled faintly. "I know it wasn't, but I have a feeling that you would have done it no matter what."

Blair asked, her voice completely serious, "Is that a problem then?"

"Only when I'm not thinking with my head," Cam murmured, feeling herself fall into those eyes.

Blair smiled, smoothing her hand down Cam's chest and hooking her fingers under the waistband of her trousers. She tugged lightly and replied, "Well then, hopefully we can count on that kind of problem fairly often."

"Apparently that would be the case," Cam said, resisting the urge to slip her hands under Blair's T-shirt. If she did that, she wouldn't stop until she had her again, right there on the spot. She kissed her once, hard and sure, and then pulled away. As she stepped through the door, she said briskly, "I'll see you shortly then, Ms. Powell."

"Certainly, Commander," Blair called after her, lingering just a moment to watch her walk down the hall. Then she closed the door and went to prepare herself.

*****

Blair sat at the long console table in loose cotton pants and an open-collared, pale blue linen shirt, flanked by Mac and Felicia Davis. Partially full styrofoam cups of coffee, long cold, sat interspersed with keyboards, headsets, and monitors. She stretched and sighed.

"Tired?" a familiar deep voice asked from behind her.

So quickly she might have imagined it if her skin hadn't begun to tingle, Blair felt the fleeting brush of fingers across her arm. She slowly turned her chair and glanced up at Cam. She smiled softly. "A little."

"Why don't all of you take a break," Cam said to the three of them. "I'll have one of the FBI people watch the incomings for a few hours."

"What did Agent Ryan say our approach should be?" Blair asked, ignoring the suggestion to leave. She, Mac and Felicia Davis had been alternating breaks and she was fine. "We should have contact any time. It's been almost twenty-four hours."

"She said it was time to push," Cam reported almost reluctantly. What the profiler had in fact said was that they were running out of time. Ryan anticipated that he would make another strike imminently. His pattern suggested an extremely low tolerance level that was rapidly deteriorating. Since Blair had not been outside the building in over seventy-two hours, he was completely cut off from her. If Blair didn't engage him verbally, he was very likely to take action and Lindsey admitted that she had no idea what form that attack might take.

Cam studied Blair, acutely aware of the faint circles under her eyes and the weary set to her shoulders. She wanted to tell her to go upstairs and get some sleep. She wanted to tell her to stay away from all of this. She wanted to tell her that this was her job and she would damn well handle it. What she said was, "Lindsey said it's up to you. She said follow your instincts."

Blair straightened, staring at the monitor as if she could will a message to appear. "Well then, let's get down and dirty."

Three hours later, it began.

A001@worldnet.com: I've missed you. Are you hiding?

NYC1112@freemail.com: I got your message. Let's talk.

The four people watching the monitor held their collective breath. It was the first time that Egret had suggested a real time chat. If it spooked him and he terminated all email contact, they might lose their only route of communication at a time when information was critical.

"Come on you prick, bite," Mac murmured. He rocked in his seat, his body so tense he vibrated. God, he wanted this guy.

Cam looked at Blair, who sat with her hands poised on the keyboard, focused and intent. Cam clenched her fists and shoved her hands into her pockets, torn between wanting him to answer and wishing he would disappear into the amorphous world of cyberspace.

Felicia Davis calmly readied the back-up drives and prepared yet another worm to launch. "One of these times I'll get you," she said under her breath. He was out there, not so very far away, she could feel him on the line. Her fingers raced on the keys with the speed and sixth sense of an expert cracker.

Blair waited. She knew what none of the others understood. This was about her - it had always been about her. She was the woman the cameras captured and the newspapers wrote about, just as she was the woman who painted late into the still night, and the woman who trembled helplessly in Cameron Roberts' arms. He simply wanted the woman that the world had made its own.

She breathed out slowly as the lines appeared.

A001@worldnet.com: Go to www.privatetalk.com, the game room.

NYC1112@freemail.com: How will I find you?

A001@worldnet.com: Don't worry. I'll find you.

Blair didn't hesitate. She typed quickly, I'll be waiting.

Chapter thirty-five

0545

Lindsey Ryan sat alone in the conference room, a can of soda by her right hand, and stacks of papers and folders scattered around her. She was leaning her head in her left palm, staring at a computer printout. She jumped at the sound of the deep quiet voice from behind her.

"What do you think?"

Lindsey looked up as Cam approached, noticing the very fine lines of stress around her eyes. Other than that small sign, she didn't appear to have a concern in the world. Except that Lindsey knew that she hadn't slept more than an hour or two in the last three days, unless she did it with her eyes open. She was rarely out of the command center.

"I think he's crazy as a loon."

Cam smiled grimly. "Will he show?"

Ryan sighed, and looked back at the critical portion of the transcript for the hundredth time.

A001@worldnet.com: Why won't you believe me?

NYC1112@freemail.com:: About what?

A001@worldnet.com: That I worship you. You're all I care about.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: Maybe because you're killing people and threatening my friends.

A001@worldnet.com: You don't leave me any choice. You ignore me.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: I'm not ignoring you now.

A001@worldnet.com: This isn't enough.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: What do you want?

A001@worldnet.com: I want to see you. I want to make you understand.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: Do you really love me?

A001@worldnet.com: I live for you.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: If I come, will you stop the killing?

A001@worldnet.com: Yes.

NYC1112@freemail.com:: Do you promise?

A001@worldnet.com: I have been patient long enough. You know what I'll do if you deny me.

Lindsey pointed to the last line. "Here's the problem part. Until this point, he's negotiating. But the minute Egret questions him, which, by the way, I'm glad she did - it's in character for her - he reverts to threats."

Cam's stomach clenched. "Is he threatening her?"

Lindsey hesitated. "Probably. Yes - I think yes. He's had his fill of substitutes, I think. He wants her and no one else. If he can't have her now, I'd say that she'll become his target, and he won't stop until you catch him."

Cam pulled out the chair next to her and sat, rubbing her eyes. "What does that mean for the operation? Will he show?"

"He's highly intelligent, so he must suspect a trap. On the other hand, he's arrogant and believes that he can't be caught. It depends on the balance between his ability to think rationally and his need to see her - to touch her - in the flesh. By now he must be wild for her. So - maybe."

"I need better than 'maybe', Ryan," Cam said quietly. "I've got an agent going into that meet alone. And I've got Egret locked up in here and I can't keep her here forever." She repeated, "Will he be there?"

Lindsey considered the image of the man she had formed in her mind after spending dozens of hours reading his messages to Blair Powell. He was completely and totally obsessed with her, and he spent every second of every day thinking about her. He fantasized about her returning his affections, about her fulfilling his needs; he had built an elaborate delusional system with her as his psychosexual center; he had resorted to violence to make her recognize his desires.

"He'll be there."

Cam stood, satisfied. They had less than a day to prepare, and even though Doyle was coordinating the teams, she was reviewing everything herself. Ellen Grant was going in with every bit of protection Cam could give her.

"Why is he doing this?" Cam asked finally. "He must know we'll be all over that place."

Lindsey shrugged. "Ms. Powell assured him that she would not reveal their plans. He needs to believe that, because he needs to believe that she desires him, the way he desires her. The rational part of him will be suspicious, but the psychotic part desperately needs to believe that she is coming to him out of mutual love and desire."

"What if he discovers that she betrayed him?"

Lindsey Ryan said quietly, "Then he'll kill her, or anyone we send in her place."

1030

Stark found her in the workout room down the hall from the command center. She was wearing black lycra shorts and a sports bra and she was punching hell out of a heavy hanging bag. The sweat on her skin made its coffee color shine like bronze and Stark felt her mouth go dry watching her. She'd looked like a gazelle running that day in the park - Jesus, was it only six days ago? - but now, with her muscles tensing under her smooth skin and the swift, even recoil of her limbs as she danced around the swinging bag, she looked more like a leopard running its prey to ground.

Savard looked over and saw her standing there, an expression on her face that would have surely made her blush if she'd seen herself. She smiled as she thundered one last right hook into the leather. Then she wiped her forearm across her face, shook most of the sweat from her hair, and walked over to her.

"Any news?"

Stark shook her head. "Still a green light for tonight."

"Good," Savard grunted, working at the laces on her right glove with her teeth. "It's time to put this bastard away."

"Here, let me get that," Stark said, reaching for the ties on the heavy boxing glove. Her hands were shaking. God.

Savard stepped back a pace and looked at her. "You okay?" she said, her voice surprisingly soft. The bruises had faded from around Stark's eyes, but the stitches were still there, a neat row of tiny black ants marching across her smooth pale forehead. "Does your head still hurt?" she asked even more gently.

"No," Stark said, not looking up, her head bent as she worked at the stubborn knot in the laces. "It's fine."

Savard raised the glove until it rested under Paula Stark's chin and then gently pushed, forcing her head up, forcing Stark to look at her. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Stark stood very still, struggling to express emotions she scarcely understood herself. "It's going to get hectic later. I'll be in one of the back-up cars. I probably won't see you alone again before you go."

Renee waited.

Stark swallowed. "I just wanted to remind you that we -- that later -- when you get back…"

"We have a date. I won't forget," Renee said tenderly. She leaned forward and kissed her very lightly on the mouth. "You're brave, you know." She wasn't talking about the job.

"Not so very," Stark whispered, trembling in a place she had never trembled before.

"I'll see you when it's over," Savard murmured, then stepped around her and disappeared.

Stark closed her eyes, feeling the kiss still soft upon her lips. Please just come back.

1530

Cam stood to the rear of the room, listening while Doyle outlined the operation assignments to the FBI, ATF, SWAT and bomb squads. The State Police would be assisting with road blocks once the assault and capture teams were in place, and their captain was there, too.

Eight hours to go.

She was there because she wanted to know where everyone else would be if things started to go bad. Grant would not be caught in anybody's crossfire, because Cam intended to be right on her heels. She had been involved in the planning from the minute Loverboy took the bait and gave Blair the location - an abandoned amusement park. Doyle couldn't keep her out since he was using her agent.

Cam looked at Grant now, and motioned with her head to the hallway outside.

"You okay?" Cam asked.

Grant nodded. "Fine."

"Savard will wire you before you armor up," Cam reminded her. "I want to hear your voice every step. Everything you hear, everything you see, everything you think you see - I want to know about it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You key on my voice. You do not engage, you do not intercept, unless you hear it from me."

Grant looked at her, a question in her eyes. SAC Doyle was supposed to be relaying her orders from a surveillance post on top of a warehouse five hundred yards from the contact point.

"I'll be on the ground with Savard, closer to you than anyone else," Cam said. "I'll hear the directives at the same time you do. And I'll have a better read on the situation than he will. You go when I confirm, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand," Grant said. "Thank you." She hesitated a second, then added quietly, "Commander, my husband's on patrol tonight. I'll leave his number-"

Cam interrupted firmly. "The only person calling your husband tonight, Agent Grant, will be you when this action is over. Are we clear on that?"

Grant smiled gratefully. "Yes, ma'am. Quite clear."

"Good, then go get some rest."

Cam watched her walk away and checked her watch. Then she went in search of Savard.

1730

Savard was laying out body armor and sorting rounds of ammunition in the small weapons room next to the main command center when Cam found her.

"Everything in order?"

Savard glanced up at her and nodded. "Yes ma'am. Locked and loaded."

"Good," Cam replied, leaning against the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. "About tonight," she began.

"Yes?" Savard replied, studying her, noting the hard stillness in her eyes. There was a finality there that told her whatever was coming was not going to be negotiable.

"Ellen Grant is mine," Cam said quietly. "No one is going to order her into danger except me."

Savard thought about that. She could go to Doyle now and tell him that there was a conflict in command, because she knew that he expected to control Grant's movements. Roberts was giving her a choice. Which meant that she was also giving her the responsibility, and the accountability. Once they reached the rendezvous, there would just be the four of them. Grant, Roberts, her and - Loverboy. It came down to who she wanted to make the final call, and whose judgment she wanted to rely on in the heat of the moment.

"You'll be the senior agent in the field, Commander," she said quite clearly. "I have no problem with you making the call."

Cam nodded and straightened up. She still needed to go over the com links with Mac, and then review the construction plans they had received from the city planning office for the amusement park. She needed-

"Commander?" Savard said, breaking into her thoughts.

"Yes?" Cam asked.

"You'll need to be fresh, too, and you haven't had much sleep the last couple of days."

Cam raised an eyebrow, surprised by her frankness.

"There's still a few hours before we have to gear up," Savard remarked.

"I'll take that under advisement," Cam said. "Thank you, Agent."

Savard took one step forward, reached to touch her, then stopped. "We're all trained for this. It must be very difficult for someone who isn't - the uncertainty of it all." She hesitated, then added, "She'll need to hear that you'll be back."

Cam stared at her, expressionless for what seemed like an interminable length of time, before a grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "They certainly are not making FBI agents the way they used to."

Savard grinned back. "No, ma'am, they're not."

Chapter thirty-six

1800

For the third time in as many days, Cam stood at Blair's door, knowing that when she crossed the threshold, her life would change. Each time she stepped outside of her comfortable world of regulations and routine to enter the uncertain arena of her relationship with Blair, she came away more deeply bound to her. It wasn't easy, but she couldn't deny that she wanted it. More than that, she couldn't deny that she needed it.

Blair opened the door and said softly, "Hi."

"Hi," Cam said, not yet moving to enter. Blair looked tired and that was unusual for her. There were smudges of fatigue under her eyes and the smile she offered Cam was tinged with sadness. Cam reached out and ran her fingertips over Blair's cheek. "Have you slept?"

Blair shook her head. "I meant to, but I couldn't stop thinking."

"You should try," Cam said gently. "It's going to be a long night."

"I know," Blair answered softly. She wanted to reach out to her, to pull her inside. But she also knew that she wanted to keep her inside, away from the night, away from the danger, and that wasn't her choice to make. It hurt to think that Cam would not choose safety over responsibility, even for her. So she stood waiting, wondering what it was that Cam really wanted. Finally she said, "I wasn't sure you would come."

Cam lifted her fingers briefly to Blair's face again. "I'm sorry you didn't know that," she murmured. "I'm sorry for the pain of all of this."

"No," Blair said quickly. "That's not your doing. It never has been."

"I could have done things differently," Cam said softly. "Between us."

Blair smiled at that, a faint fond smile. "Could you have?"

Cam shook her head. "No. But I wish that I could have, so as not to hurt you."

"That just might be enough," Blair admitted, because she couldn't imagine which part of Cam could be changed without destroying some essential element of her. She feared that to change her would be to lose her.

"Blair," Cam said urgently, "I want you to know…"

Blair stopped her with her fingers on her lips. "Will you come in now?"

Cam kissed her fingertips. "Yes."

"Can you stay?" she asked again.

"For a little while."

"That won't always be enough," Blair warned, but there was no anger in her voice.

"I understand," Cam replied, stepping across the threshold. "But I won't always be leaving."

Then Cam was inside, and Blair closed the door, and they were alone. Blair raised her arms to Cam's shoulders and moved up against her, resting her face on Cam's shoulder. She sighed, and as she couldn't seem to do before, she let go of everything in her mind and floated in the certainty of Cam's embrace.

"Let's go to bed," Blair finally murmured. "I need to hold you."

"Yes," Cam answered quietly, her lips moving gently on Blair's ear. "I need to tell you things."

And then they were naked in one another's arms, face to face, covered only by a light cotton sheet. Slowly, they kissed, each exploring the other anew with gentle strokes and tender caresses. They didn't hurry, but touched with absolute certainty, as if there had been no beginning and there would be no ending. Slowly, they stirred one another until they trembled together, breathless and poised on the precipice, ready to fall.

Blair brought one leg over Cam's hips, opening herself, as she stared into Cam's eyes. "Come inside," she whispered.

Cam slid her hand between their bodies, her fingers parting the swollen flesh, gliding over Blair's clitoris, making her gasp and quiver. "In a minute," she whispered back.

Their eyes locked as Cam held her tightly, drawing her fingers lightly back and forth over the exposed, exquisitely sensitive tip. Blair's fingers dug into her arm, and Cam murmured, "There's no hurry. Let me have you."

Blair was barely breathing, her muscles clenched and begging for release, every cell focused on the overpowering pleasure rippling under Cam's fingertips. "Oh please," Blair moaned at last. "Let me come."

Cam pressed harder, circling faster, each knowing stroke bringing her slowly but steadily to orgasm. She watched Blair's blue eyes darken to purple and lose focus.

"I love you," Cam whispered as Blair threw her head back and cried out sharply, pushing down hard against Cam's hand. Cam entered her then, prolonging the spasms with each thrust of her arm until Blair grew quiet and sagged against her.

"You wreck me," Blair gasped finally.

Cam wrapped her arms around her tightly. "I meant to."

"Just give me a minute to catch my breath," Blair murmured, pressing her lips to Cam's shoulder, wondering if she would ever recover, not from the pleasure, but from the agony of loving her so much.

"I'm okay," Cam answered, kissing Blair's temple gently.

"Bullshit," Blair laughed softly. "I can feel you on my leg, and you're a long ways from being okay."

To prove her point, Blair pressed her thigh hard between Cam's legs, and Cam groaned at the rapid surge of blood into her clitoris. "No fair," she gasped.

"Yes, fair," Blair said firmly, pushing Cam onto her back and rolling on top of her. "I told you I just needed a minute."

Cam looked up at her and grinned. "That's probably all I'll need, too."

"Oh no, Commander," Blair said softly. "I want much more than that from you."

And then Blair took her slowly, with her mouth and her hands and her tender caresses, drawing the fire from her blood and the heat from her bones, igniting her nerves and scorching her senses, until all Cam knew was Blair and all she could do was cry out her name. 

*****

They slept for an hour and awakened together, just on the other side of darkness. They lay side by side, hands clasped, their fingers entwined.

"What happens now?" Blair asked in the stillness.

Cam spoke quietly, her voice steady and calm. "At twenty-one hundred hours, Savard and I will leave for the rendezvous site. Thirty minutes later, Grant will walk out the front entrance and flag down a cab. Stark and Fielding will be in that cab. We're assuming that Loverboy may be watching here to assure himself that you are really going to meet him, and that you're coming alone as you said that you would. It's possible that he has someone else watching the building for him and relaying a message. Either way, it will look like you have once again slipped by us and are on your way to him."

"So how will he get to the meeting site on time, if he's here when Grant leaves?"

"Lindsey Ryan speculates that he chose this site some time ago, and I agree. He was prepared when you agreed to meet him. He named that place and time almost immediately. It may have just been his fantasy that you would someday come to him, but Lindsey thinks he's actually been there, and may have already 'readied' it for you."

Blair shivered at the thought of someone creating these elaborate fantasies with her as the star. It made her feel as if someone had been touching her while she slept.

Cam slipped her arm around her shoulder and drew her near. "Blair, you don't need to hear all of this."

"No," Blair said quickly, her voice strong and determined. "I want to know. All of it."

Cam continued. "He'll either follow Grant to the site or use an alternate route to arrive before her. Since he's familiar with the area, we assume that he'll have planned a way into the arcade without detection. We'll already be in place when she arrives."

"But she's not really going to meet him, is she?" Blair asked worriedly.

"No," Cam said with certainty. "Doyle's team will have infrared heat seeking scopes that will pinpoint the location of any living thing bigger than a dumpster rat within a hundred yards of the meet site. They'll hone in on him and take him out. Grant's only role is to leave here as you and get out of the cab at the entrance to the amusement park. She's not going to actually enter the arcade."

"And you and Savard?" Blair asked quietly, her heart pounding.

Cam leaned up on elbow so that she could look into Blair's eyes. The room lights were off, but the streetlights outside the loft windows were enough for them to see each other. "We'll be there for ground support only, to assure that Grant is covered if any action takes place near her and to get her to the back up car which will be nearby. Escort duty only."

"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 didn'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.

The pain receded behind her next reaction - anger. She was furious at him for shooting her, and even more furious at herself for letting him take her by surprise. She rolled to her side and got her feet under her. In the next second she was moving again. Her left arm hung uselessly, but her gun hand still worked. She could see his back as he agilely vaulted a turnstile that had once been part of an admission booth. In another instant, he'd be gone. Her vision was starting to blur and she was running out of time. Her arm was soaked with blood; she could feel it streaming off her fingers onto the ground. She drew down and fired.

The second blast was even larger than the first. And this time, the shockwave catapulted her into oblivion.

Chapter thirty-nine

Mac tried furiously to re-establish contact, but no one was answering him. "Commander? Stark?"

Blair continued to type queries to Loverboy, but there were no further responses.

"What's happening?" she asked urgently. The three agents looked grim, and the eerie quiet that hung in the air made Blair's blood run cold. She struggled for composure and lost. "What the hell is going on?"

"All our communication lines are down," Mac said grimly. "Loverboy was probably transmitting from a wireless connection at the rendezvous site. He's there, and he knows that you're not."

Blair got to her feet, her entire body trembling. "Someone better find out right now what's happening out there, or I'm going myself."

"Ms. Powell," Lindsey Ryan said quietly, putting her hand on Blair's arm very gently, almost as if she were afraid of startling her, "we'll get word here faster than anywhere else. Give Mac a minute."

Mac switched to the speakers and attempted to boost the signals. "Stark, come in please. Do you copy? Stark, goddamn it! Do you hear me?"

A garbled, fitful transmission crackled through. At first, all Blair could make out were fragments of words but what she could hear was enough to take her legs out from under her. She reached blindly for a chair and sat heavily.

"… explosion… shots fired… agents down…"

"Who?" Blair asked faintly, her eyes moving from one agents' face to the other, trying desperately to read their expressions. "Mac, ask her who."

"Can you clarify?" Mac asked woodenly, forcing down the quick surge of panic Stark's message produced. He clenched his fists and concentrated, straining for her words.

More static, then..."Evacuating injured…will advise."

Then there was only silence, a silence so final that the three of them - impotent witnesses to a nightmare - stood numbly, not looking at one another. Blair closed her eyes and wondered how it was that she could still feel her heart beating, because something inside of her was dying.

The icy stillness was shattered by the ringing of the landline. They all stared at it for a second, and then Mac snatched it up, listening intently. Blair watched him anxiously, hoping for some sign that her fears were unfounded, but the grim set of his jaw never changed. He replaced the receiver and stood up.

"That was Fielding. Ambulances are en route with the injured to the trauma unit at Beth Israel."

"Who?" Blair asked quietly, prepared, she thought, to hear him say the words. She must be ready, because she was so cold inside. Frozen. "Please -- who?"

"No ID yet," he answered, looking around for his blazer, "but Stark went with one of the ambulances, so I assume some of them are our people." He pulled his jacket on as he turned toward the door. "I'll call you as soon as I have any information, Ms. Powell."

Blair moved quickly, blocking his way, an incredulous look on her face. "You can't be serious. I'm going with you."

Mac stopped short and, although it took effort, said as calmly as he could manage, "I'm afraid you can't do that, Ms. Powell. I don't have a full complement of agents available now, and I don't even know the status of the rest of the team. I can't provide security. I can't…"

"Mac," Blair said tightly, wondering how it was that she hadn't begun screaming, "either you take me or I get a cab. But there's no way I'm not going."

"He's right, Ms. Powell," Felicia Davis said quietly. "We're short-handed, and we don't even know if the UNSUB has been apprehended. It's not safe. The Commander will have Mac's - uh - head if he takes you out there. It's going to be chaos."

Blair almost smiled, imagining Cam's expression, and thinking that Davis was probably right - she'd be seriously annoyed. And then she realized she might never see Cam again, might never touch her again, and the cold dark place where she locked away her fears began to bleed. When she spoke, she couldn't quite hide the pain. "I'll make sure Commander Roberts knows it was my doing."

Perhaps it was the way her voice broke when she said Cam's name, but Lindsey Ryan spoke up, her voice not only calming, but comforting. "Agent Phillips, there are three of us here. We certainly should be adequate security for Ms. Powell's transport to the hospital. Once there, I assume there will be other members of your team available to assist."

Blair shot her a grateful look.

Mac relented, because he couldn't physically restrain the First Daughter, and it was plain to him that she was going one way or the other. "All right then, let's do it."

*****

At first all she could see through the car window as they approached the hospital were emergency vehicles parked haphazardly in the small lot in front of the entrance. Light bars atop ambulances and police cars sent intersecting beams of red and blue strobing wildly into the night sky, reflecting eerily off the double glass doors of the trauma bay. Hospital personnel and law enforcement officers of all description rushed everywhere. She searched the crowd of State Police, plain-clothes federal agents and SWAT team members in full riot gear, but the one unmistakable form she sought was absent.

God damn it Cam, don't you dare do this. Don't you leave me now.

Blair realized that she wasn't breathing. She also realized that there would be reporters there by now. And photographers. By the time Felicia Davis held the door open for her and she stepped from the car, she had composed herself.

Mac took her right arm and began to draw her through the crowd. Lindsey Ryan was just behind her left shoulder and Felicia Davis cleared the way in front. When they reached the sliding glass doors that marked the trauma entrance, a large harried-looking hospital security guard blocked their way.

"Sorry. You can't go back there."

Mac extended his right hand with his badge, but the guard's attention had focused on Blair. His eyes widened slightly, and he said in a slightly awed tone, "Miss Powell! I - uh - I didn't recognize you - sorry - uh - just one minute. I'll get a detachment to escort you."

"No," Mac said sharply. "That's not necessary." The last thing he wanted was a bunch of star struck guards trying to be helpful and making his job more difficult. "We just need to get back to the triage area. Can you direct us?

The security officer looked like he was about to protest, but he must have seen something in Mac's face that made him change his mind. "Straight on through, past the automatic doors at the end of the hall," he responded crisply. "It's a mess back there, though."

Once inside the main admitting region, the noise level dropped, but there were still scores of people clogging the hallway and emergency carts and equipment everywhere. Blair stared at the floor, and realized that the congealing trails of crimson were blood.

"Oh god," she whispered faintly.

Lindsey looked at her in concern. "Why don't we find someplace less public to wait while Mac finds the others?"

"Let's go back to the treatment area and I'll see what I can find out," Mac agreed. He was feeling a little overwhelmed himself. He and Ellen Grant had worked together for several years, even before Egret's detail, and they were friends. He liked Renee Savard. And the Commander - how he felt about her was too complicated to explain. He just knew he didn't want to think about her going down again. When they stepped through the solid gray doors bearing the sign, "Trauma Admitting - Authorized Personnel Only", he was relieved to see a familiar figure in the doorway of one of the treatment cubicles.

"Stark!" he called.

Stark stared at them, looking slightly dazed. There was blood on her shirt and hands, and a darkening smear along the angle of her jaw. Before she could respond, she was forced to step aside as a transport team came out of the room behind her, pushing a stretcher bearing a portable respirator, bags of intravenous fluid and blood, and a cardiac defibrillator. Barely recognizable in the midst of the equipment lay Renee Savard.

Blair caught only a brief glance of Savard's pale, unresponsive face as the medical team rushed her down the hall toward the elevators. Stark started after the stretcher, but a nurse gently took her arm and murmured something to her. A moment later the elevator doors slid closed and Savard was gone. Stark's shoulders slumped and she leaned heavily against the wall. When Mac began to move toward her, Blair stopped him.

"Just a minute, Mac. Let me talk to her."

He nodded. "I'll go find someone who can tell me what's going on."

Blair stepped forward and put both hands on Stark's shoulders. She looked intently into her face. "Paula," she said gently, "are you hurt? You're covered in blood."

"It's hers," Stark said, her voice choked and low. Her gaze met Blair's, a world of agony swimming below the surface of her dark eyes. "There was so much of it. I tried - the best I could. It wouldn't seem to stop."

"Where is Cam, Paula?" Blair asked, trying hard to keep calm. Let her be here. Just let her be all right. "Agent Stark?"

Stark was clearly in shock, but if someone didn't tell her something soon, Blair was afraid that she might start running up and down the halls screaming out Cam's name. She was about to come apart and she was scared to death that she would never get the pieces together again. "Stark," she whispered desperately, "please."

"I think-I think," Paula Stark began, then lost her thread. She was having trouble thinking about anything except how pale Renee had looked and how much blood there had been on the ground and on her clothes and how cold she felt when Stark had put her arms around her and held her until the evac team arrived. She hesitated and swallowed and tried to get control of her racing heart and her shaking legs. Finally, she cleared her throat and forced herself to straighten up. "I didn't see Grant or the Commander, but to the best of my knowledge they were transported here, too. Grant went to the OR right away, I think. I'm not sure about the Commander."

Blair closed her eyes. She must be alive. They wouldn't bring her here if she weren't. Would they?

"Thank you," Blair said quietly after a moment. She looked over her shoulder and motioned to the two agents behind her. "Agent Davis, would you please take Agent Stark somewhere where she can lie down for a few minutes?"

"I'll do that," Lindsey Ryan said quickly. She thought it best that a Secret Service Agent stay with the President's daughter until they had some idea of what had happened. As Lindsey put her arm around the unresisting dark-haired agent, Mac returned.

"All I can find out is that Savard is listed as critical with a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Hit just where her vest stopped. Goddamned lucky shot," he added bitterly. "Grant has a skull fracture and a collapsed lung. The commander is -" He stopped and Blair's heart stopped, too.

Don't say it, Mac. Don't say it. Don't sa-

Then from behind them came one word. "Blair."

Blair spun around, her heart leaping. Cam stood just a few feet away. She didn't think about anything - not the federal agents, not the reporters, not the public - she just reached for her.

Cam opened her arms and pulled Blair close, holding her tightly. Blair was trembling. She lowered her head, brushing her lips against her ear, and said quietly, "I'm all right. Do you hear me? I'm all right."

Blair nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She pressed her lips to Cam's shoulder, wanting her mouth, but knowing she couldn't. Not right there, not with everyone right there. She hadn't lost that much of her mind, and the solid reassurance of Cam's body instantly calmed her. Blair stepped away, although letting Cam go was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. Her entire body ached for the feel of her lover in her arms. Blair's hands shook she wanted to touch her so badly, just to be sure that she was still there. Just to be sure that she hadn't lost her.

"Are you hurt?" Blair's eyes darted over her, trying to reassure herself that Cam was in one piece. Blair's gaze narrowed as she studied her. Cam's face was white and her usually sharp, clear eyes were dull. She had shed her jacket and protective vest and her shirt was soaked with sweat and grime and patches of something that looked a lot like blood. A hot flash of anger flared in Blair's depths. Not with the woman, not even with the job, but with the relentless maniac that had tried to take Cam from her. She wanted to kill him herself. "Cam? Are you hurt?"

Cam was careful not to shake her head, because she was dizzy and the ringing in her ears affected her balance and she was afraid too much motion would make her vomit. "Not much. Scrapes and bruises. A bump on the head. I won't be hearing the high notes for a while."

Blair was instantly suspicious. "Just what exactly happened to you?"

Cam got that evasive look she thought Blair didn't recognize, and before she could answer, Blair added, "And if you don't tell me the whole thing right now, I'll find the doctors and ask myself."

"A minor concussion," Cam admitted with a sigh. She ran her fingers lightly down Blair's arm. "Nothing time won't take care of."

"And they released you?" Blair persisted.

"Well, not exactly," Cam confessed. She didn't blame Blair for being angry with her. She was only grateful that Blair hadn't been there to witness the doctors trying to convince her to be admitted overnight for observation. Now that would have been messy. "I'm kind of on my own recognizance at the moment."

"Damn it, Cam," Blair seethed, keeping her voice low, aware that there were others nearby. "Don't do this to me."

"I have things I need to take care of," Cam continued urgently, taking her hand. "I have two people upstairs in the operating room, Blair. I have families to contact, supervisors to inform. I have my agents to see to. I have to be here."

As much as she didn't want to, Blair let go of Cam's hand. She took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Will you promise me that if you start to feel ill you'll let the doctors look at you? Promise me that."

"I will," Cam said, her expression grateful. "I swear, Blair."

Blair nodded, relenting because that was the best she could get at the moment. And she knew that Cam would not lie to her. "And the minute that you hear about them you'll get some rest?"

"Agreed," Cam said with a faint smile. "Will you let Mac take you home?"

"I'd like to stay until there's some word."

Cam heard the true caring in her voice. She looked around, relieved to see her team nearby. "Of course. I'll have Fielding find a room where you can wait. I'll tell you the second I hear."

"Thank you," Blair said softly. "Take good care of yourself, Commander."

"I will," Cam murmured, losing herself for just an instant in her eyes. "I'm glad that you're here, you know."

"That's a good thing," Blair whispered, "because nothing could have kept me away."

Chapter forty

Nine hours later, Cam walked into the command center and regarded the remains of her team. Most of them had never gone home but instead had voluntarily taken turns rotating between there and the hospital. As she expected, Stark was among them. The young agent appeared pale and shaky and she had that haunted look in her eyes that Cam knew would linger a long time.

"The conference room," she said as she walked through.

A few minutes later, she stood at the head of the table, as she had so many times before, and looked at each of them in turn. Finally, she said quietly, "We got him. Nice job, everybody."

Then she opened the cover of a thick file folder and tossed it into the center of the table, a color photograph of a male in uniform clipped to the first page. "State Trooper James Raymond Harker. Ten years ago he was detached to Governor Powell's security detail."

For a moment there was stunned silence, then Stark muttered vehemently, "Bastard."

"I can't believe it," Mac said, obviously distressed. He glanced at the picture then passed the file to the person next to him. "Why weren't we onto this? Background checks should have turned up something."

"This information stays in this room," Cam said quietly. She had to work at keeping her own anger in check as she continued, "Apparently, the FBI task force ran background checks soon after Egret alerted them that she was receiving email from Loverboy. They cleared everyone who had ever had anything to do with her security."

Mac interrupted with a derisive laugh. "Sure - they checked all of us out."

Cam nodded grimly. "Unfortunately, there appears to have been a breakdown in their internal communications, and the security officers assigned to Egret when her father was the governor were never checked. Harker, AKA Loverboy, was one of them."

Fielding raised his head sharply. "Does that mean this nutcase was shadowing her for over 10 years?"

"Lindsey Ryan says it's possible," Cam said, struggling to keep the loathing from her voice. The fact that he would have killed Blair was only part of what made it so abhorrent. Cam was sickened by the very idea that this psychopath had probably watched Blair from the time she was teenager. Worst of all, she knew Blair would never be completely free from idle curiosity and might someday become the object of someone else's obsession. She shoved the thought away. She had to get through this, and then maybe she could lie down and the pounding in her head would stop. "Whatever happened, the FBI will clean up their own mess."

"Yeah, right," Mac snarled. "Except we've had to pay the price for their foul up. First you, then Jeremy, and now Grant."

"Update on the injured," Cam continued, ignoring Mac's remark although privately she agreed with him. From what she had heard from Stewart Carlisle, SAC Doyle was getting all the credit for the takedown. She didn't begrudge the FBI that, because Savard had been the one to stop him. This was not about who got the glory, but about the fact that Blair was no longer in danger, at least for the moment. For that, she would always be grateful to Renee Savard. The fact that Doyle had nearly gotten Ellen Grant killed was another issue, and she would not soon forget that.

Her mind was wandering. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. "Grant is awake and says for none of you to touch her desk. Said she'll know if there's a pencil missing." Cam smiled faintly. "She'll be discharged in five to six days and back on duty in six weeks if the next CAT scan is clear. "

She glanced at Stark once, quickly, and then continued quietly, "Renee Savard is still unconscious in the intensive care unit, but the surgeons are optimistic. She lost a lot of blood, but apparently no critical structures in her shoulder were involved. In the absence of any unforeseen complications, they're predicting a full recovery."

She looked at the people gathered around the table and said, "We owe her. She stepped up for us and even after she was hit, she managed to get this guy. No one is exactly sure yet what happened, but he was probably carrying another explosive device that he either hadn't had time to dispose of or that he was planning on planting somewhere else. The ATF commander tells me that the shockwaves from a bullet impacting anywhere near a high-order explosive can trigger it. She hit him, and his own bomb took him out. We're waiting for forensics to give us the final ID, but Harker was missing after the action and everything else fits. When we ran our own background check, it turns out that he had applied to the Secret Service before he joined the troopers and had been denied for psychological reasons. I guess the state system never turned up that information with a computer check of his application. Not surprising, since none of our systems are interfaced."

Now came the hard part. "I looked at the tapes from the explosion in Central Park. Harker was the trooper standing next to Jeremy's car. He probably placed the device right there."

The silence was heavy with sorrow and fury.

"He's also the one who pulled me away from the car that day. I don't know why."

Lindsey had told her that it might be something as simple as the fact that Harker didn't want anything or anyone to alter his plan - that he needed to be the one to determine who should live, and who should die - and when.

Mac slid Harker's file back to her, and Cam closed it with a sense of finality. "Egret is due to leave for San Francisco in a little over a week. She's staying with Diane Bleeker for a few days until some of the publicity dies down. I'll review her plans with you when I know them. Mac, would you set up the shifts please."

"Right," he said quietly.

She knew they needed to mourn Jeremy's loss. She also knew what else they needed. "I want everyone except the current shift to go home and get some rest. If there's news from the hospital, I'll see that you're notified. I need you all back here by tomorrow, and I need you to be sharp. We still have a job to do."

As the others in the room stood to leave, she added, "Stark, a moment please."

Cam waited until the room had cleared, and then she closed the door. Turning to Stark, she said, "Take a couple days leave time, Stark. You look like hell."

"I'm fine, Commander," Stark replied quickly, stiffening as her eyes flashed with anger. "I'll be ready to take the evening shift."

Cam smiled faintly and rested a hip against the corner of the table. She looked away for a second, and when she returned her gaze to Stark, she let the sadness show. "What happened out there is hard for everyone, Stark. Having friends and colleagues in danger, seeing them injured - it affects us all." She paused, not needing the memory to feel the terrible sense of helplessness, the horrible hopelessness. She'd never forget it. "It's much harder when it's someone you care about. I know."

Stark stared at her in surprise. Maybe it was the sympathy in Cam's voice or the shared sorrow that finally undid her, but she sat quickly and covered her face with her hands, hiding the tears that she couldn't hold back any longer. It took her a few minutes to get hold of herself, and then she sank back in the chair and said, "I'm sorry. I think I'm just tired. I know she's going to be all right, but I can't stop thinking about the way she looked lying on that stretcher."

"Savard is tough, and she's going to be fine."

"She sure kicked some ass, didn't she?" Stark said with a grin, her spirits bolstered by the certainty in Cam's voice.

"That she did," Cam agreed.

Stark rose wearily and said, "Thank you, Commander. I think I will request a few days personal time, just so I can - you know - visit the hospital and stuff."

Cam smiled. "A very good idea, Agent."

Cam waited until the room had cleared, and then she made her way slowly downstairs. She flagged down a cab and gave him the Upper East Side address. She was asleep before he pulled away from the curb.

Epilogue

"Well," Diane Bleeker said as she stood in the open doorway, "I've waited a long time to see you at my door, Commander."

Cam grinned tiredly. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Diane said with a laugh. "Some things are definitely worth waiting for."

Cam glanced at several suitcases standing by the door. "Going somewhere?"

"Just a three-day weekend," Diane said nonchalantly. Then she raised an eyebrow, a speculative look on her face. "A spur of the moment kind of thing."

"Thank you." Cam knew that Diane was leaving to give her and Blair a little time alone. "I appreciate it."

Diane ran her fingers lightly down Cam's arm, lingering just a moment on her hand. "Oh, believe me, Commander, anything I can do to help."

"You might want to take your hands off her, Diane," Blair said softly from behind them. "I'm terribly short of patience at the moment."

Diane turned to smile at her old friend. "When did you lose your sense of humor, Blair?"

Blair looked past Diane to Cam, who still stood waiting at the door, rumpled and pale and just about the best looking thing she had ever seen. She ached to get her hands on her, her arms around her, her skin on her skin. Blair's voice was low, throaty with emotion, when she murmured, "I think it was along about the second time my stalker tried to kill her."

Diane stepped aside, because she had watched Blair pace and worry and stare out the window for the last few hours, restlessly waiting. She could never remember seeing her so undone, and so clearly suffering. "Well then, since that's the way it is, I'll make myself scarce."

Blair touched Diane's shoulder briefly in thanks as her friend grasped her suitcases and left, but her eyes never moved from Cam's face. When they were alone, she came slowly forward and took Cam's hand. "Come with me."

Cam was too tired to question or protest. The dizziness had abated, but the headache persisted and probably would for days. Mostly, she was weary. There had been too much violence and injury and loss, and she was worn down by it, body and soul. All she really wanted was to lie down next to Blair and close her eyes.

Blair led her through the apartment and into the bathroom, closing the door. She turned and began unbuttoning Cam's shirt. Cam lifted her hands to help, but Blair brushed her fingers away gently. "No. Let me."

Tenderly, Blair undressed her, being careful to ease the clothing off the patches of bruises and abrasions covering her back. She tried not to think of what had put them there, but she couldn't help imagining Cam flung to the ground, rocks and debris raining down on her during the blast.

"It isn't as bad..." Cam began, sensing her hesitate, but Blair stopped her.

"Yes, I know. It isn't as bad as it looks." She put it from her mind for the moment. When she had Cam naked, she took off her own clothes. She started the water in the shower and drew Cam in with her.

"Oh God," Cam groaned softly. "That feels so good."

"Mmm," Blair responded, finally beginning to relax herself. She reached for the soap and worked the lather over Cam's body.

"And that feels even better," Cam whispered, her eyes closing. She was nearly asleep standing up. The hot steam and Blair's soft hands lulled her into a state of near torpor. By the time Blair was finished washing Cam's hair, she wasn't sure she would be able to remain standing.

"I'm not going to be much good for anything in another minute," Cam murmured, her speech slurred with fatigue.

Blair wrapped her in a large towel and brushed the damp hair back from her forehand. She kissed her gently on the mouth. "Believe me, Commander, you are good for a great many things, which I'm sure you'll remember after a little sleep. If not," she added as she led the way to the bedroom, "I'll be sure to remind you."

*****

Renee Savard opened her eyes and tried to focus on the figure leaning over her. Finally, she said, "Hi."

Stark smiled. "Hi yourself."

Savard carefully took stock, assuring herself that she could feel the bed covers touching each foot and each hand. Then she wiggled her fingers and toes, finally sighing with relief. "Apparently everything is working, yeah?"

"The doctors say you'll be fine," Stark said, a small catch in her voice.

"You want to give me a rundown of what 'fine' means?" Savard said quietly.

"I guess the doctors should probably do that," Stark hedged.

"Paula," Savard said, and this time her voice trembled. "I'd prefer hearing it from you."

"Hey," Stark said gently, reaching for her hand, cradling her fingers between her own palms. "You're okay, Renee, really. You took a bullet in the left shoulder. They said it pretty much severed the major vein from your arm. But the nerves are okay -- they think you'll have a little weakness for a few months. You bled like hell though, and they gave you transfusions for that. You've been out of it for a day and a half because of all the anesthesia and the shock. But, you're going to be fine, Renee."

Savard closed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them, her smile was stronger. "That doesn't sound too bad. A little rehab and I should be back in the field, right?"

"Don't see why not," Stark said positively, although at the moment she didn't want to think about that. She still couldn't shake the feeling of terror she'd had when she'd found her on the ground, lying so still, covered in blood.

"Did I get him?" Savard asked.

This time, Stark's smile was brilliant and her eyes flickered with something hard and edgy. "Oh yeah, you got him. You got him in about a million pieces. He took a little unexpected ride on his own rocket fuel. Straight to hell, I hope." She forced back the rage. Later. There would be time to let it out later. "You're a hero, Renee. You deserve all the credit you get."

Savard shook her head. "I don't think so, Paula. Roberts was all over it out there. If it hadn't been for her..." She broke off abruptly and her eyes widened, more fear-filled than when she had first awakened and realized that she was in a hospital bed. "Oh God! Is she all right? Ellen Grant? What about Grant? There was an explosion..."

"They're both okay," Stark said quickly. "Grant will be in here a while but the Commander has already been released."

Rene closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Thank God," she murmured. God, is it finally over then? She was beginning to remember -- running through the dark, the flash of the explosion, the tearing pain in her shoulder.

Stark frowned when she realized that Savard was trembling. "I should go. You need to rest."

Savard opened her eyes again. Softly, she said, "You look like you could use some, too."

"Yeah, maybe," Stark said with a sheepish grin. She was actually about to fall down she was so tired. But she couldn't leave just yet. "So...uh...Savard -- just in case you have any memory problems, you know -- from this little...uh, episode...I...uh...wanted to remind you that we -- you know -- have a date. Right?"

Renee Savard smiled, and this time her eyes sparkled with their old vitality. "You don't need to worry, Agent Stark. It would take more than a bullet to make me forget that."

*****

When Cam awoke, she was naked in bed and Blair was beside her. For a few moments, she lay quietly, simply luxuriating in the feel of Blair's arm possessively draped across her body. She liked the weight of it, the quiet reminder that she belonged there--with her.

"He's really dead, isn't he?" Blair said into the still darkness, part statement, part question.

"Yes," Cam said, reaching for Blair's hand, interlacing her fingers with Blair's and squeezing gently. "We don't have a positive ID, but I expect that we will when the forensics people are finished."

"Who was he?"

Cam hesitated for a second, and then said quietly, "He was a State Trooper assigned to your security detail about ten years ago - when your father was still governor."

Blair rolled onto her side and pressed tightly against Cam's body, nestling her face against her shoulder. After a moment, she said, "I don't remember him. I don't remember any of them."

"There's no reason that you should," Cam said gently. She brushed her fingers lightly over the curve of Blair's breast, and Blair shivered in her arms. "We're not supposed to be memorable. We're supposed to do our job and keep out of your life."

There was an edge of bitterness in her voice that she couldn't quite hide. Harker had tarnished so many things she valued. Dishonoring his oath was the least of his sins. It enraged her every time she thought of him watching Blair with his fevered distorted longings, all the time that he had been entrusted with her care.

"I seem to have quite a few pleasant memories of you though, Commander," Blair whispered softly, rubbing her palm lightly over Cam's chest, chasing away her demons.

Cam's swift intake of breath followed fast on the surge of excitement that rippled through her. She shifted so they were face to face and she kissed her way along the edge of Blair's jaw to the corner of her mouth. "Let's make a few more."

Blair pushed Cam down and moved on top of her, straddling her hips. "Let's."

"I love the way you look when you're on top of me," Cam murmured, reaching for her breasts.

Blair leaned forward, catching her lower lip between her teeth as Cam's knowing fingers closed on her nipples. She rocked, slow easy strokes, teasing herself as well as her lover as her wetness coated Cam's stomach. When the pressure began to peak and the tingling started on the insides of her thighs, she dropped her head and closed her eyes, bracing herself with her hands against the mattress on either side of Cam's shoulders. Her breath came in uneven sobs as she gave herself to the escalating urgency between her legs, pressing harder, faster. Soon, it would be impossible to stop.

She forced her eyes open and struggled to focus on Cam's face. "Should I wait?" she gasped.

"No," Cam rasped, barely able to force the words out her chest felt so tight. "You're so beautiful when you come."

Cam brought one hand down between them and slipped her fingers between Blair's legs, cupping her as she thrust.

"Oh Cam," Blair moaned, riding hard on Cam's hand. She jerked once and then she was gone. As the spasms continued to bombard her, she collapsed against Cam's chest, groaning softly.

"Sorry," Blair finally murmured. "I seem to be afflicted with terminal lust."

"Nice," Cam remarked, running her hands up and down her back. "Have I mentioned lately that I find you terminally sexy?"

Blair laughed, leaning up on one elbow and shaking the hair back from her face. "You think we're safe together?"

Cam stroked her face, then raised her head and kissed her gently. "Oh yes. Quite safe."

"Are we free now?" Blair asked, suddenly serious.

"Yes."

But they both knew that wasn't quite true.

"I'd prefer that you not scare the hell out of me again for a while," Blair said, pressing her lips to Cam's bare shoulder, tasting the light tang of salt and feeling her desire rise again.

Cam brushed a kiss into her hair. "I have no intention of scaring you again at any time. I know it's hard to believe at the moment, but these situations are extremely rare. I hope you'll be able to believe that someday."

"You're not resigning, are you?"

"I don't want to," Cam said quietly. She tightened her grip and held Blair closer when she felt her stiffen. "It's what I do, Blair, and it feels right to me. It lets me be with you more than I would be able to under any other circumstances. I don't want to see you for a night every couple of months. Not for the next seven years."

Blair tried hard to put her fear aside and to listen to what Cam was telling her. She couldn't deny the reality of the situation, because if Cam were not part of her security detail, it would be very hard for them to be together. It would still be hard for them to have a personal life, but that was not a new challenge for her. She had been working outside the system in that regard all her life. She sighed.

"I don't know if it will work, but I'm willing to try."

"If it doesn't work," Cam assured her, "I'll do whatever I have to do. Blair, I love you."

Blair moved on top of her and looked intently into her face. "We'll both do whatever we need to do, Cam. Because I love you, too."

"Is that so?" Cam murmured, catching Blair's fingers and pressing a kiss to her palm. Then, she moved Blair's hand down her body. "Perhaps you could repeat that."

Blair laughed, watching Cam's eyes as she touched her. "As you wish, Commander."

The End

Comments please to radclyffe@radfic.com

This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent any particular individual, alive or dead. This work may not be printed or distributed for profit without the express written permission of the author.

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