06. Honor Under Siege - Неизвестный

“How can you choose when you don’t even know what’s going on?”

Diane’s heart clenched at the uncertainty in Valerie’s voice and the tormented look in her eyes. She sensed Valerie struggling not to pull away and risked sliding her hand inside her jacket again. When she rested her fingertips against Valerie’s side, Valerie trembled.

“Oh, don’t,” Diane breathed. “Don’t hurt so much, my darling. Help me understand. Tell me, so that when I say I love you, you can trust me.”

“I can’t seem to think straight when you’re near me,” Valerie murmured before kissing her again. When the door behind them opened, she spun Diane to the wall, shielding Diane’s body with her own, and pushed her hand into her jacket pocket. “Keep your head down.”

Diane held her breath, her heart jumping in her chest. Valerie’s face had gone completely still, her blue eyes intently focused, and her body coiled as if it were poised to explode. Footsteps passed behind them and started down the stairs, clattering loudly in the enclosed space. Diane’s breath whooshed out. “God.”

“Do you understand now.” Valerie backed away until their bodies didn’t touch. “That’s what you’re asking me to bring into your life. I can’t.”

Diane’s gaze dropped to the bulge in Valerie’s jacket pocket, which she now realized was a gun. Having been around Blair since they were teenagers, she’d seen men and women with guns before. But she’d never sensed the lethal menace of one as acutely as she did now. “Are you saying that someone wants to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Valerie moved to the stairs leading down. “And until I do, you can’t be anywhere near me.”

Diane followed her and grasped her jacket tightly. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me so easily again, Valerie.”

“I’ll come back,” Valerie said, her voice choked. “I have to. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Diane kissed her, hard and long. Then, though it wrenched her heart so badly she felt like she was bleeding inside, she let go of Valerie’s jacket. “Come soon.”

“I’ll try. I promise.”

Then Valerie turned and hurtled down the stairs until all that remained was the distant echo of her footsteps.

“Hey!” Blair said. “You missed the fashion show.”

“Sorry,” Diane said breathlessly. “I got… lost in the shoes.”

“So what do you think.” Blair held up a strapless black silk chiffon dress.

“Nice,” Diane said, running her fingers over the sheer fabric.

Blair frowned and cast a glance in Paula’s direction. Paula appeared not to be watching them, although Blair knew she was. She lowered her voice. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course,” Blair said, loud enough for Paula to hear, “now I have an excuse to buy more shoes.” She moved closer to Diane. “Bullshit. What happened?”

“I just saw Valerie.”

Blair slipped one arm around Diane’s waist and draped the dress over her free arm as she guided Diane through the dress department and out of hearing range of her security team. “Here? When?”

“Yes. Just a few minutes ago.”

“You talked to her?”

“Briefly. She’s scared, Blair.” Diane’s voice broke. “She scared, and she’s alone.”

“What did she say?”

Diane shook her head. “Not much. It was only a couple of minutes.” She laughed unsteadily. “And I was kissing her about half the time.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised. Jesus, Diane. You have to be careful.” When Diane started to pull away, Blair tightened her grip. “I’m sorry, I know you love her. And I love you. And if she’s in trouble, you could get hurt.” Blair felt Diane shiver. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Diane said quickly. “Really. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Someone came into the stairwell while we were together, and Valerie acted as if she expected someone to try to hurt her. She was armed and—”

“That’s it,” Blair snapped. “You have to talk to Cam.”

“I don’t have to do anything until I’m certain Valerie will be protected.”

“You don’t trust Cam?”

“Shh,” Diane warned, aware that Paula and Felicia had closed the distance behind them. “I don’t know who to trust, all right? I trust you. Just let me have a few days. Please.”

Blair bit back another angry retort, thinking that she would probably behave the same way in Diane’s position. Still, she wasn’t certain she trusted Valerie, not just with her best friend’s heart, but possibly with her life.

Chapter Nine

“It’s Cameron Roberts,” Cam said in response to the question called through the door. The thunk of the lock disengaging was followed by the door opening, and she was face to face with a panicked-looking Renée Savard.

“Is Paula okay?” Savard asked, her voice tight.

“Yes,” Cam said immediately. “She’s fine. Sorry, I shouldn’t have come by unannounced. I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s okay,” Savard said, running her fingers quickly through her hair as she stepped back.

“Thanks,” Cam said. A quick visual sweep of the dimly lit room revealed closed drapes, an unmade bed, and a room service cart just inside the door. The food on the uncovered plate was mostly uneaten. The three bottles of Beck’s were empty.

Savard grabbed the cart. “Here, let me get rid of this.”

“I’ve got it.” Cam held the door open with one hand as she pulled the cart out into the hall. Then she followed Savard toward the two chairs and small table that comprised the sitting area. She noticed Savard’s limp first and then registered that she wasn’t wearing her knee immobilizer over her navy FBI sweatpants. The loose wrinkled white T-shirt was also FBI issue. Savard’s initial panicked expression had changed to one that Cam recognized as weary resignation. “How’s the leg?”

“Fine,” Savard avoided her eyes. She eased into one of the chairs without bending her knee.

“Going a little stir-crazy?”

Savard grimaced. “Been there and back.”

“How did you like being assigned to counterterrorism?” Cam asked as she took the chair opposite Savard at the little round table.

Savard blinked, then her body seemed suddenly infused with energy. She sat forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes fixed intently on Cam’s face. “Before 9/11 it used to bug me a little bit, how much time I had to spend at the desk on the computer, sifting through bits of data and chunks of memos, screening crazy tips from civilians about strange looking characters in their neighborhood.” She shrugged. “Still, when we identified persons of interest or traced messages to potential cells, I felt like I was doing something.”

“What about now? You said before 9/11.”

Savard averted her gaze again and slumped back in her chair. “I fucked up.”

“You did? You personally?” Cam had seen Savard close to coming apart when Stark had been hospitalized following exposure to a possibly lethal biological agent. Even as bad as it was then, Savard hadn’t looked or sounded like this. As if she’d somehow already given up on everything. “How do you figure that?”

“I was there, Commander. Not just in New York City, but right in the goddamn building that they hit. What kind of an agent sits in the target zone and doesn’t even have a clue about what’s coming?”

“I was in the Aerie,” Cam said, “and my only job—my number one priority—was to see that no one got close to Egret. I failed.”

“That’s not true,” Renée said sharply. “Blair’s alive because of you and your team. No one could have anticipated that kind of assault in the middle of Manhattan. Jesus, Foster was one of us.”

“That’s really the point, isn’t it? No one anticipated either of those events, which makes us all equally responsible.” Cam didn’t point out the very real differences between her degree of culpability and Savard’s. It had not been Renée Savard’s responsibility to anticipate disaster scenarios on a worldwide scale, but safeguarding the first daughter against any conceivable attack had been Cam’s. No amount of rationalization would change that.

“I know in my head what you’re saying is true,” Savard whispered. “But I still feel guilty.”

“Are things better or worse than a month ago?”

“It’s different. Then, I was just so angry. Now I feel…helpless.”

“Are you seeing anyone about it?”

Savard flushed. “Yes. Couple times a week, we’re talking on the phone.”

“Good,” Cam said briskly. “Then the only thing left to do is get you back to work.”

“I’m due for my final med check in a couple of days. Once I get cleared, I’m going to call the SAC where I was last assigned and try to find out if I’ve still got a job there.”

“I’ve got another suggestion.”

Savard’s eyes brightened. “What?”

“How would you like to work with me in homeland security?”

“You’re moving over?”

Cam nodded. “Officially as of today.”

“In what capacity?”

With a sigh, Cam confessed to the title she’d rather not use, but understood was part of the package. “Deputy director of counterterrorism.”

“Oh man,” Savard whispered. “And you can take me with you?”

“I’ve got the green light to handpick my core agents.” Cam grinned. “Kind of a special ops thing.”

“Yes. I’m in.”

Cam laughed. “I haven’t outlined what you’ll be doing.”

“I don’t care. When can I start?”

“How does tomorrow sound?” Cam stood. “0700, room B-12 in the West Wing.” At Savard’s look of surprise, she said, “Temporary quarters, just until we get organized.”

“Looks like I need to get some clothes.” Savard glanced down at her sweats. “I just brought hanging-around stuff. I guess Paula will have to take me shopping tonight.”

“Since that’s what she’s been doing all afternoon with Blair and Diane,” Cam said with a straight face, “I’m sure she’ll be eager to do a little more.”

Savard smiled, some of the pain lifting from her eyes. “She’ll probably hate it, but she won’t complain.”

“Better woman than me,” Cam muttered as she started toward the door. Turning, before she exited, she said, “See you in the morning, Agent Savard. And welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, Director Roberts.”

“Make it Cam.”

“Yes ma’am. Commander.”

With a shake of her head, Cam walked out into the hall. She had a few more people to talk to, a few calls to make, and then she could go home. Home to Blair. She smiled, liking the sound of it.

The phone rang in a room two floors below Stark and Savard’s. A broad-chested, trim-waisted man with an upright, military bearing strode across the room and picked up the receiver. His dark button-down collar shirt and black pants were pressed and wrinkle-free. On some men the clothes would have appeared casual. On him, they were a uniform.

“You’re right on time. I hope you have something useful to report.”

“Nothing yet, I’m afraid.”

The general smiled thinly. “How is it that one of your own people, someone you presumably control, can evade you so successfully?”

“Lawrence is a chameleon. She was trained to be elusive and is very good at it. But we’ll find her. For now, I have someone watching the girlfriend.”

“We don’t even know that Lawrence is trying to make contact with her.”

“We have reasonable Intel that they’re lovers. That’s not her pattern with women, so I suspect she’ll try to contact her.”

His smile disappeared. “It’s a long shot, but I suppose it’s the best we have at the moment. It’s your job to improve those odds. I want her silenced before the rest of our operation is compromised.”

“Yes, sir. I’m tracking her through every known alias and attempting to set up a meet, but I obviously can’t go through channels. It’s slowing me down.”

The general’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t been prepared for the attack on his compound because he hadn’t expected anyone on the government’s payroll to uncover his connection to Foster and the assault team—certainly not as quickly as Roberts had managed. The warning from his contact within the CIA that his mountain camp was about to be raided had barely come in time for him to escape. He’d slipped their net but at the cost of revealing that he had sources within the Company. He preferred not to sacrifice those sources, but if he couldn’t find the one person who might expose the link, then he might

be forced to take other action. “I’m not interested in excuses. You have someone on Bleeker?”

“Yes sir, but close surveillance is out of the question. She’s with… her friend, sir, and security there is very tight, especially after…New York.”

“Yes, your percentages have been poor lately.” The general rolled the hotel pen idly between his fingers. His mission had come so close to succeeding. His men, his handpicked boys, had nearly succeeded in eliminating their prime target. “I’m not impressed.”

“We’re confident Lawrence will attempt contact eventually, and then we can eliminate any chance of compromise.”

“Let’s hope the bait is sweet enough.” Matheson drew a circle on a notepad next to the phone and then placed a precise X through the center. When he turned the pad, the X looked like the crosshairs of a gun sight. “Perhaps this time we can sweep the board. In memory of our fallen friends.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Yes, sir. And may God bless America.”

“May He indeed. You know where to reach me if anything changes before our next scheduled communication. Let’s take care of these loose ends quickly, agent.”

The general broke the connection, then pushed the extension for valet parking and requested that his vehicle be brought to the front of the hotel. He clipped a holster with his Glock to his belt and selected a dark overcoat. It was time to take another drive through the city, past the White House and Cameron Roberts’s apartment building.

The time was rapidly approaching when he would have to take care of unfinished business personally.

Cam stepped off the elevator and, with a quick rush of relief, nodded to Greg Wozinski, who stood just outside her apartment door. For the first time in almost a year, she hadn’t sat in on the morning briefing with Blair’s security team. She hadn’t been advised of the shift schedule or known from one minute to the next where Blair was. She had been uneasy all day.

“You can spell Hara in the lobby now that I’m here,” Cam said,

appreciating the close surveillance but knowing that it spread Stark’s team thin. “I may not be official, but I still know the ropes.”

Wozinski grinned. “I’ll check with the chief.”

“Absolutely. Whatever Stark says.” Cam let herself into the apartment and closed the door behind her. The first thing she noticed was that the living room was empty, and the second was an amazingly good smell coming from the direction of the kitchen. She followed it, to discover Blair and Diane cooking together.