06. Honor Under Siege - Неизвестный

“Hello, Adrienne. How are you?” The last time Blair had seen Adrienne had been immediately after 9/11. Adrienne had been spending almost all of her time at the nearby naval base where she was stationed.

“Slightly less crazy than last time we met.”

“I wish we weren’t always dropping in on you quite so unexpectedly.”

Adrienne’s calm blue eyes held Blair’s. “We’re happy to have you, anytime, under any circumstances.”

Blair was certain that Cam would not have confided any of the details surrounding their precipitous return to Whitley Point to Tanner, and she knew that Tanner would not have asked, but she understood Adrienne’s message. Without even knowing the circumstances, Adrienne and Tanner would be there for them, whenever they were needed. To her horror, Blair felt her eyes sting with tears. “Thank you.”

“Tanner, darling,” Diane said, kissing Tanner’s cheek. “Thank you for the wine and other essentials in the guest house.” She extended her hand to Adrienne. “Thanks for taking such good care of us.”

“If you need anything else that our security people can’t get for you, just let us know. We’ll see to it.”

“How are you at pinochle?” Blair asked.

Stark groaned. Adrienne smiled.

Just after midnight, the door to Blair’s bedroom opened slowly and a thin shaft of pale yellow light slashed across the room.

“Cam?”

“Hi baby,” Cam said. “Did I wake you?”

Blair rolled onto her side and turned on the bedside lamp. She canted the shade so that most of the light angled away from the bed and then sat up. “No. I wasn’t sleeping. Are you all right?”

“Beat, but okay.” Cam sighed as she crossed to the bed. “I’m going to take a shower and talk to Stark for a while, then I’ll—”

“You don’t have to shower and you can wait until tomorrow to talk to Stark. I want you to just come to bed.”

Cam hesitated. “Okay. I’ll wait until the morning briefing to check in with Stark. But the shower isn’t optional.”

“I like the way you smell,” Blair said, folding back the covers and patting the bed beside her. “If you don’t get in here soon, I’m going to think you’re avoiding me.”

“The only thing I’ve been thinking about for the last twelve hours is you.” Cam kissed Blair, put her weapon in the top drawer of the bedside table, and undressed rapidly. “But I’m still going to shower. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Blair waited until she heard the shower running and then followed Cam into the bathroom. When Cam stepped out of the enclosure and reached for the towel that Blair held, Blair shook her head. “You just stand still. I’ll do this.”

“You know what I’d really like?” Cam said as Blair toweled her hair and then wiped her face and neck.

“No, darling, what?” Blair bit back a murmur of concern when she saw that the bruises on Cam’s shoulder and hip had spread, darkening in the centers to almost black.

“I’d like that massage. I’m too damn tall to sleep in the back of an SUV.”

Blair knew that if Cam was asking, she was more than stiff from sleeping in the car. She was hurting. “I think that can be arranged.” She dried Cam’s chest and stomach, then her back. Kneeling, she gently smoothed the towel over Cam’s buttocks, down the outside of her legs, over her calves, and up her inner thighs. “Turn around, darling.”

Slowly, Cam turned. She skimmed her fingers through Blair’s hair and then over her cheek. “Feels good.”

Tenderly, Blair dried Cam’s thighs and hips, taking care with the bruise on the right side. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Cam said thickly.

Blair rose, her nipples tight beneath the T-shirt she had worn to bed. “Come on, I’m not done yet.” She took Cam’s hand and led her into the bedroom. “Lie on your stomach and get comfortable.”

Cam complied, pillowing her head on her folded arms. When Blair knelt next to her, she said, “Aren’t you getting undressed?”

“Not just yet.” Blair decided it was safer if she kept her T-shirt and panties on. Although her only intention was to help Cam relax, she became aroused any time she touched her, for any reason. Starting at the back of Cam’s neck, she worked her way down, pausing when she found the clusters of knotted muscles along the way and gently massaging them until they softened.

“Jesus,” Cam muttered at one point, “that feels great.”

Blair smiled. “Good. Now turn over.”

Cam carefully flipped over. Her limbs felt loose, her mind more than a little hazy. She was also wet. Blair knelt beside her in a short T-shirt and skimpy panties, her hair down, her face void of any makeup. Her full breasts pressed against the thin cotton as she leaned forward, her hard nipples clearly visible. Cam swept her hand up Blair’s side and cupped her breast.

“Stop that,” Blair protested with more determination than she felt.

“I want to touch you,” Cam murmured.

“Tonight is for you. Just relax.”

Cam sighed but she felt so good she couldn’t argue. She moved her hand to Blair’s side and left it there as Blair worked.

Staying away from the bruise on Cam’s right shoulder, Blair circled her thumbs along the muscles under her collarbone. Cam had a warrior’s body—her sleek muscles long and tight, her breasts small and round. Her nipples were neat pink circles, as compact and hard as the rest of her body. Scars marked her chest and thigh—the gunshot wounds she had earned in battle. “I love you very much.”

“Makes all the difference,” Cam whispered.

Blair smiled. “I know.” She stroked Cam’s stomach, then worked her way down the front of Cam’s legs. As she slowly skimmed her fingers along the insides of Cam’s thighs, she felt a different kind of tension infuse her lover’s body. She leaned down and kissed Cam’s stomach, then rubbed her mouth over Cam’s navel. “Feel good?”

Cam twisted her fingers in Blair’s hair. She was so relaxed she could barely move, but every nerve was singing with arousal. “Not even close.”

“That bad, huh?” Blair stretched out along Cam’s uninjured side, resting her cheek in the center of Cam’s stomach. She drew one leg up over Cam’s and nestled her sex against Cam’s calf. “If you promise to lie still, I’ll see if I can make you feel better.”

“You’re hot,” Cam whispered, drawing strands of Blair’s hair through her fingers. “I can feel how hot you are against my leg.”

“I am,” Blair said, smoothing a fingertip up and down the cleft between Cam’s thighs. “I’m very hot. And wet. That’s what happens when I touch you.”

Cam groaned softly. “Seems the same thing happens to me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“See for yourself,” Cam whispered, her fingers trembling as she caressed Blair’s face.

“I love this,” Blair said. “I love you. Now don’t move.”

Cam closed her eyes as Blair softly, ever so softly, massaged her clitoris until she climaxed. Blair moaned quietly, her mouth against Cam’s stomach, her legs shaking as she rubbed against Cam’s leg until she came.

“I didn’t know it was possible to come without moving a muscle,” Cam murmured, the last tendrils of tension bleeding away. “Jesus, I couldn’t get up now if I had to.”

“Good,” Blair said lazily, turning on her back so she could reach the lamp to turn it off. She found the sheet and pulled it over them. “Because I’m not letting you get up. Maybe not for a couple of days.” She turned on her side again and wrapped an arm around Cam’s middle. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Cam stroked Blair’s hair and held her tightly. “I need to be here. I need you.”

“I’m here. Go to sleep now, darling.”

Morning would come soon enough, and when it did, the hunt would begin again. But for now, Cam accepted the peace that only Blair could bring her, and slept.

Chapter Fourteen

Thursday

Matheson smiled at the man who joined him on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. He was much younger, a stocky redhead in neatly pressed work pants and a brown leather bomber jacket with an American flag patch stitched onto the sleeve. They shook hands and moved off to one side of the rotunda as a maintenance worker began polishing the stone floor with an electric buffer. The noise made conversation difficult, but it also provided excellent cover.

“How are things at the new compound, Colonel?” Matheson asked his freshly-promoted secondin-command.

“The men have nearly finished the barracks, sir.”

“How is morale?” Matheson had lost some of his best officers during the Special Ops raid on his compound in Tennessee. Unfortunately, many of his ground troops were unseasoned volunteers who had never faced combat or even given any thought to what a real battle might be like. Now he needed to rebuild his paramilitary force and relocate his base, and some of the men—mostly truck drivers and other blue-collar workers—were beginning to realize that they weren’t just playing at being weekend soldiers. There was a war on. And war meant casualties.

“We lost about twenty percent of our original force to desertion, in addition to those who were captured,” the redhead reported. “But we’re adding new men at twice the normal rate since 9/11. The patriots are rising across the nation in response to the attack.”

As we predicted, Matheson thought. The only reason that he and his patriot brothers had been willing to aid the foreign insurgents was to further their own agenda. An attack on American soil was guaranteed to rally the loyal. Now, with more men joining them every day, he and his compatriots could consolidate their power base and expand their sphere of influence.

“The FBI will undoubtedly accelerate their attempts to infiltrate our ranks now, so be vigilant,” Matheson said.

“Yes sir. We’re screening carefully.” The redhead hesitated. “Have we resolved the problem with the security breakdown here, sir?”

Matheson shook his head. “Not yet. Take this lesson to heart, my friend. Never rely too strongly on anyone but your most trusted brothers-in-arms.” He clamped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “But, despite the unreliability of dealing with bureaucrats and low-level informants, it’s also useful to have sources inside the system. We may be able to deal with all our problems another way.”

“Sir?”

“I was advised that the White House press secretary released an interesting tidbit last night,” Matheson said. “Blair Powell and her deviant secret service guard intend to hold a so-called wedding ceremony. I imagine the papers will have that this morning.”

The redhead grunted. “She’s an embarrassment to the entire country.”

“But the timing is good for us. If a morally outraged man—or woman—were to put a stop to them, we’d fulfill our mission to destabilize President Powell’s administration, and we’d cut off a possible return route for our missing CIA agent.”

“And we could disavow any involvement.”

“Exactly. Let’s call on our friends to activate someone, preferably a member of one of the splinter groups—someone expendable who won’t be traceable to us or our Conservative Coalition allies.”

“What should I tell them about the target, sir?”

“That we want both neutralized, but Roberts should be the priority.”

“Do we have their location, sir?”

Matheson grimaced. “No, we’ve lost them temporarily, but Powell’s official schedule of appearances is updated daily.”

“A public assault is a suicide mission,” the redhead said mildly.

“All the better, as long as he—or she—takes the targets out first.”

“Yes sir.”

The men shook hands. “Godspeed, Colonel.”

“God bless America, General.”

When Blair awoke, she was surprised to discover that Cam had gotten out of bed without waking her. Ordinarily she was a light sleeper, but she had lain awake for a long time the night before, after Cam had fallen asleep in her arms. Partly, she’d still been wound up from worrying about Cam all day, but it was more than that. Felicia and Renée were staying in the guesthouse, which had been transformed into an ad hoc office for the OHS. Her security team had relocated to the main house, and Mac was probably already setting up a command center in the dining room downstairs. Diane remained in the main house at Paula’s suggestion, which made it easier to protect her as well. The new arrangements made it impossible to deny that she was living in a high security complex. And now her lover was a deputy director in a national security organization that had not existed two months before. Blair was faced with the cold hard realization that, even when her father was no longer president, her life was not suddenly going to be normal. This was normal, and it was what she’d been fighting to avoid all her life.

Blair rolled over and opened the bedside table. Cam’s weapon wasn’t there, because she was wearing it. Because even in this, their soon-to-be new home, they weren’t entirely safe. She walked to the window to look out over the dunes to the ocean. There was no one in sight. Even the fishing trawlers were so far out to sea they were no more than dots on the horizon. She was as alone here as she had ever been, and she should have felt free, but she didn’t. With a sigh, she pushed her melancholy aside and went to look for her lover.

She found Cam in the kitchen, leaning against the counter drinking coffee. She wore her casual work attire—chinos and a button-down collar shirt—and her weapon.

“Did you eat something?” Blair asked as she placed a hand in the center of Cam’s stomach and kissed her. Then she sidled around her to pour her own cup of coffee.

“I had some toast. You want some?”

“No thanks.” Blair kept her back turned. “I’ll grab some later. How’s your shoulder and hip?”

“Fine.” Cam set her mug down and caught Blair’s wrist before she could slip away. “What’s the matter?”

Blair smiled and brushed her fingers over Cam’s chest again. “Nothing.”

Cam waited until Blair had sipped her coffee, then plucked the cup from her hand and deposited it next to hers on the counter. Then she threaded her arms around Blair’s waist and pulled her gently against her body. She kissed Blair a little bit longer than her normal morning hello, and then studied Blair’s eyes. “Something happen I should know about?”

“Just a case of the blahs,” Blair said lightly. She nipped at Cam’s chin. “Really. Go to work.”

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready, right?” Cam murmured, placing another kiss gently on Blair’s temple.

“Mmm hmm,” Blair sighed.

“Ready now?”

Laughing, Blair pressed her mouth to the hollow at the base of Cam’s throat. “I’ve forgotten how persistent you are. I was just thinking that what you do, what you all do, isn’t confined to some office in a building in DC or Langley anymore. It’s everywhere, wherever you are. Wherever we are. Even here.”

Cam caressed Blair’s back. “I wish I hadn’t had to bring this into our home. I wish it didn’t touch you, or us. As soon as I can, I’ll move the team—”