Honor Guards

"Of course." Cam edged closer on the sofa and placed her hand gently on the small of Blair's back. Their thighs lightly touched, and their hands, still clasped, remained joined. "Which side?"

Wearily, Blair rested her head on Cam's shoulder. "The left."

The left. I touch you there all the time. Why couldn't...why didn't I feel it? If I had, would it have made a difference? Does it make a difference now? Oh, Christ. What does this mean? Cam feathered a kiss into Blair's hair and moved her hand up to cup Blair's neck, smoothing her fingers up and down the rigid muscles along her spine. "Can I...can I feel it? Will it hurt you if I do?"

"No," Blair rasped. "It won't hurt." She leaned her head back into Cam's palm, grateful for the strength in the long tender fingers. She searched Cam's eyes and saw something she'd never seen before, something she knew Cam would never let her see if she'd known it was apparent. Fear. She lifted a hand and stroked Cam's cheek. "It's all right."

Swiftly, Cam turned her face and pressed her lips to Blair's palm. "I know, baby. I know."

"I'm sorry I worried you."

Cam shook her head. "It's all right." She drew Blair close. "I wish you would have told me sooner...right away."

"I wanted to. I tried to." Blair's voice held a hint of confusion. "I just couldn't make myself say it." She shook her head. Her grip on Cam's fingers tightened. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it? I'm not naive. I knew it wasn't going to go away. I just wanted to come home and paint."

"Can we go into the bedroom?" Cam was desperate to hold her. Really hold her. She ached to shelter her, to somehow put herself between Blair and anything that could hurt her. She knew how to do that in the world outside these rooms. She trusted in her ability to keep Blair safe. But this...how did she protect her from this? She'd never felt so helpless or so frightened in her life—not even when she'd watched her father's car burn after the explosion, because she'd known, as much as she'd wanted to deny it, that he was already gone. "I want to hold you."

"Yes. God, Cam, I've missed you so much."

Cam fingered the Handie-Talkie on her belt. "Stark?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"You're in charge of the detail. I don't want any calls put through to me or Ms. Powell for any reason other than a Priority One."

"Yes, Commander," Stark snapped.

Thumbing the off button on the radio, Cam stood and guided Blair up. Arms around each other, they walked to the bedroom.

By the side of the bed, Cam swiftly shed her jacket and shoulder harness. As she reached to unbuckle her belt, she said, "Let's get into bed."

Wordlessly, Blair loosened the drawstring at her waist and pushed down the cotton pants. She hesitated only a second before grasping the hem of her T-shirt and drawing it off over her head. Naked, she slipped under the covers and held them back for her lover to join her.

Cam settled on her side beneath the sheets and faced Blair. "Show me where it is."

Blair took Cam's hand and drew it to her breast, pressing her fingers gently over a spot on the upper outer aspect of her left breast. "Here."

Carefully, Cam circled her fingertips over Blair's smooth skin. After a moment, she felt an area the size of a nickel that was firmer than the surrounding tissue. Hoarsely, she asked, "Is that it?"

"Yes."

It seems so small. That can't be anything, can it? Cam leaned down and kissed Blair's breast directly over the tiny mass. "I love you, Blair." Then she lay back and drew Blair into her arms, guiding Blair's head to her shoulder. With her arms wrapped tightly around her lover, she pressed her cheek to the top of Blair's head. "What should I do to help you?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Every night." Cam's voice was fierce. Let protocol be damned. Let the media and the Treasury Department and the White House be damned. Nothing is going to keep me from Blair's side. Not now, not ever again.

Blair felt Cam tremble and heard the rage simmering beneath the surface. She drew her leg over Cam's thigh and fit herself more closely to the curve of Cam's body. She feared the anger was with her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away."

"No," Cam rasped, closing her eyes tightly against the tears of anguish and fury. "I understand. You have nothing to apologize for."

Blindly, Blair reached up and pushed her fingers into Cam's hair, drawing her head down for a kiss. With the first touch of their lips, she felt the terrible weight lift from her spirit and sensed the strength returning to her soul. With a small sob of joy and welcome she gave herself to the tender caress of Cam's mouth on hers. Their touch spoke of joining and belonging and trust, and Blair drank of their union until the pain loosed its hold on her heart. With a sigh, she settled her cheek once more against Cam's shoulder. "I didn't realize how much I needed you. Not until just this moment."

"You won't forget that, will you?" Cam stroked Blair's hair. "I can't bear to be away from you. Not just now. Ever."

Blair was silent, wondering how it was that she believed those words. Wondering why she trusted that Cam would not leave her, no matter what came. Is this what love truly is? Believing without question? Knowing beyond doubt?

"I never thought about not telling you. I never thought that you wouldn't be here for me," Blair's voice held a hint of wonder. "That's because I know you love me."

"I do," Cam murmured, turning her face into Blair's hair to hide the tears she could not hold. "I do, Blair. With everything I am "

CHAPTER NINETEEN

23 August 2001

C am lay awake, the first hints of sunlight streaking through the skylights onto her face. Blair lay curled against her, her head on Cam's chest, one arm and a leg thrown possessively across Cam's body. Miraculously, Blair had fallen asleep shortly after seven the previous night and had slept soundly for almost ten hours. Cam, however, had barely dozed. As the light had slowly seeped out of the loft and darkness taken its place, she had stared at the ceiling, stroking Blair's hair, listening to her soft, even breathing, and concentrating on the heat of her lover's body against her skin.

It seemed impossible that only a few days before, she and Blair had stood together in the White House declaring their love for each other and contemplating a future, speaking of marriage. She wondered why those moments seemed so much less real than the awareness that she could lose everything in the fragile time between two heartbeats. Why loss seemed so much more possible than happiness. Cam sighed and gently kissed Blair's forehead.

No point in asking questions that can't be answered.

Eyes closed, Blair drew her hand up Cam's body until it rested between her breasts and softly stroked the center of her chest. "Don't worry so much. Not yet."

"It's hard not to, but," Cam tightened her hold, "I'm reminding myself of all the positives—that you're young and it's probably nothing too serious; if it is serious, it's treatable; and most importantly," she kissed Blair's temple, "I know you, and you're a winner."

"I love you," Blair murmured softly, tracing her fingertips along Cam's collarbone. "I asked Diane to come over yesterday so we could catalog the paintings for the show. I didn't know I was going to tell her about this until she was here."

Cam continued to stroke Blair's shoulder and back—long, smooth, tender strokes. "It bothered me, at first, thinking that you didn't tell me right away and that you'd told Diane first."

"Cam—"

"It's okay," Cam said quickly, meaning it. "The most important thing is that you know that you're not alone, and that..." She stumbled as she worked to steady her voice, "we love you."

"If you only knew how much I need you."

"I'm here."

At 5:00 a.m., Cam ran north along her familiar jogging route into Central Park. She ran automatically, mindlessly, the rhythmic sound of her feet meeting earth a distant partner to the pain that thundered through her with each pulse of her blood. Her pace was faster than normal, but she was unaware of her breath rasping harshly in and out of her chest or the cramps knotting her overworked muscles. By the time she reached the reservoir and started around, her head was light from oxygen hunger and her limbs shook with the buildup of lactic acid.

She'll be fine. She has to be fine. Nothing will happen to her. I won't let it. God, how can I stop it? What can I do? What can I... how can I...this can't be happen —

Gasping, Cam vaulted off the path into the thick underbrush that bordered the jogging trail, braced herself with one arm against a tree trunk, and vomited until her stomach muscles gave out. Then she turned and slid to the ground, her back scraping against the rough bark. She leaned her head back and watched the early morning sun dapple the canopy of leaves overhead. With hands that shook, she fumbled her water bottle from the pack around her waist and rinsed the taste of fear from her mouth. When her vision cleared, she pushed herself upright and headed back at a steady pace to her duty and to the woman who was her destiny.

Stark pressed close to Renee's back, one arm around her waist and her face pressed to the soft spot between Renee's spine and shoulder blade. She kissed the warm skin and murmured, "Five more minutes?"

"We should get up," Renee sighed, pushing her hips back into the curve of Stark's body. "Mmm. God, you feel good."

"Uh-huh," Stark mumbled, caressing Renee's stomach. "I do."

Renee murmured contentedly. It was the second morning they had awakened together, and it felt as unfamiliar and as exciting as it had the day before. "I like the way you do this."

"What?"

"Snuggle."

"Snuggle?" Stark's voice held a note of uncertainty. "That doesn't sound very sexy."

Renee laughed quietly and drew Stark's hand to her breast. Her breath ..caught as Stark's fingers closed around her nipple, tugging lightly. "Oh, but it is. There's something very sexy about the way you hold me."

"Everything about you is sexy." Stark rubbed her cheek against Renee's shoulder and then lifted up to kiss a spot just below her ear. "And you smell really good, too."

Renee turned onto her back and drew Stark down upon her. She fit a leg between Stark's and lifted her hips. The teasing touch on her breast had made her wet, and she knew that Stark would feel it. She smiled, a slow pleased smile, as she saw Stark's eyes widen at the first touch. "Feel me?"

"Oh, yeah," Stark said breathlessly. Her heart pounded like a wild thing trying to escape from her chest and all she could think, feel, sense was Renee—everywhere. Filling her mind and her heart and her body with wonder and desire. "I want to make you come."

"We have to get ready for work." Renee squeezed her thighs around Stark's leg, teasing them both. Then a trembling began deep in the pit of her stomach and she knew she would need to stop soon or come.

"Give me five minutes," Stark insisted. She kissed the corner of Renee's mouth, then flicked her tongue over the surface of Renee's lips. "Come on. Five. Minutes."

Renee ran her fingers through Stark's hair, laughing shakily. "Take ten."

Smoothly, Stark pushed down on the bed until she rested between Renee's legs. Gently curling her arms beneath Renee's thighs, she lowered her head and eased her lover into her mouth.

Then she took her time, because some things were too precious to hurry.

At 0700, Cam walked into the command center one floor below Blair's penthouse apartment. After her run, she'd showered in her own apartment diagonally across the square from Blair's building and dressed in her customary tailored dark suit and slightly paler shirt.

Like Blair's loft, the area housing the command center was a single open space. Workstations enclosed by aluminum-rramed gray partitions occupied the central area, a monitoring station crammed with computers, monitors, and communication links to all of New York City's emergency service offices filled the near end of the room, and a glass-enclosed conference area was located at the opposite end. Per routine, Cam strode to the head of the table in the conference room and remained standing while she addressed the agents gathered for the morning briefing.

"There will be new shift assignments beginning today." She waited while the agents shuffled through their papers to find the week's itinerary. "The following agents will be assigned to the first team until further notice—Stark, Davis, and Parker. Stark is lead. Second team will be Fielding, Foster, and Reynolds. The rest of you will be assigned to shifts as the schedule demands. Mac will coordinate as usual."

Cam had had only a few minutes to glance through the daily reports, including the routine intelligence reports. She looked to Mac. "Anything pertinent in the dailies?"

"No, ma'am," Mac replied. He was too experienced to ask her anything about the assignment changes during the main briefing. She would tell him privately what he needed to know. He also knew better than to ask her what had put the shadows in her eyes or the subtle tremor in her hands.

"Good," Cam said abruptly. "Mac, we need to be in DC by 1100 today. I'll be in the Aerie. Make arrangements for the team at the usual hotel and call me when you have the flight details. Leave the return date open."

"Yes ma'am."

"Thank you. That's all." Cam turned around and walked swiftly through the command center to the outer hallway and keyed the private elevator that led to Blair's apartment.

When she knocked, Blair answered immediately. She wore the royal blue robe that Cam had first seen her in, and, like that first day, her hair was down and wilding around her face. Despite the stress of the last three days, Blair's eyes were clear and her full lips their usual sensuous deep rose. She was the most inspiring woman Cam had ever seen. Love, wonder, need, fear—every emotion that Blair invoked boiled within her.

As the door swung closed behind her, Cam framed Blair's face in her hands, her fingers drifting into the thick golden curls. She lowered her head and smoothed her tongue over the surface of Blair's lower lip before gently sliding inside. As the kiss deepened from greeting to urgency, Cam felt Blair's arms wind around her waist beneath her jacket and Blair's body press tightly to her own. She groaned faintly and swayed against the onslaught of sudden desire.

Blair gripped Cam's back fiercely, her hips rocking from side to side between Cam's spread legs. She pulled her mouth away, gasping. "You make me feel so much. So alive."

Without realizing it, Cam tightened her grip in Blair's hair, tilting her head back as she dragged her teeth down the side of Blair's neck. She hungered for her, not just physically, but in the far reaches of her being, with a need as critical as breathing. She dipped her tongue into the hollow at the base of Blair's throat and murmured, "You're everything."

"Don't stop," Blair whispered, her plea almost a prayer. She pulled Cam's shirt from her waistband and smoothed her hand over Cam's spine, then around her side and onto her abdomen. The muscles beneath her fingers rippled and tightened and her own body quickened. Head thrown back, eyes closed, she moaned as Cam's mouth moved down the center of her chest. She felt the air cool on her hot breasts, as her robe fell away. "Yes."

"I love you," Cam choked as she lifted Blair's breast in the palm of her hand and pressed her mouth to the tight nipple. Without thinking, nearly beyond thinking already, she bit gently. Through the fog of arousal, she heard Blair whimper.

Everything stopped.

Ice filled her veins as Cam's head snapped up. "Oh my God. Blair. Did I hur—"

"No."

Before Cam could speak again, Blair put both palms against her chest and pushed her back against the door, following close with her body. She found Cam's hand and put it back to her breast, squeezing Cam's fingers closed around it. "Touch me. Here." Her stomach clenched at the piercing pleasure. Blindly, she found Cam's other hand and drew it between her thighs, her vision dimming at the rush of heat and pressure against her swollen flesh. Voice breaking, she gasped, "And here." God. Don't go away. I need you now.

Always, even when they had feared to put words to their emotions, their bodies had spoken...of passion, of need, of love. Cam felt her lover's cry—through her skin, beneath her fingertips, against her lips—and she answered without hesitation or restraint. She took Blair's breast into the warm haven of her mouth as she entered her body, claiming her, deep and full, carrying her on the tide of their passion beyond fear and uncertainty and loss.

As the climax crashed through her, Blair felt as if she might fall, but she knew absolutely that Cam would not let her. Crying out, back arched and trembling uncontrollably, she came around Cam's fingers, clutching her shoulders to stay upright. When her muscles turned to jelly, she sagged in Cam's arms, her head on Cam's shoulder.

"Oh God. I...don't know where...that came from."

"Us. It came from us." With an arm around Blair's waist, holding her tightly to her chest, Cam brushed her cheek over Blair's hair. She ached with loving her and had trouble catching her breath. She felt the start of tears and, horrified, blinked them away. Kissing the top of Blair's head, she whispered, "Everything is going to be all right."

"Yes," Blair murmured wearily, her eyes closing as she listened to Cam's heart rate slow into the steady, strong cadence that personified everything about her lover. Everything she had come to rely upon. No matter what comes, it will be all right—as long as I have you.

Renee picked up the phone on the first ring. "FBI, Special Agent Savard. How may I help you?"

"You busy?"

"Hey." Unable to hide her smile of pleasure, Renee swiveled her chair away from the man who sat at the desk opposite her in the office that she shared with six other FBI agents. The New York City division of'the FBI, on floors 22 through 24 of the North Tower of the World Trade Center, was one of the agency's largest divisions outside of DC. A posting there was a much-sought-after assignment, as was the counterintelligence unit where Renee had worked for the last two days. Currently, she was doing little more than reading case files and report summaries to acquaint herself with the scope of the investigations undertaken by her new division. For many reasons, professionally and personally, she wanted this posting to become permanent. "Trying to look busy, anyhow. How about you?"

"We're headed back to DC."

"Oh?" Renee kept the surge of disappointment from her voice. "For how long?"

Stark sighed. "Don't know. I don't have any details."

"Will you call me, when you know?"

"Yes. Sorry about this."

"No need to be. I understand." Renee glanced quickly over her shoulder, but no one was paying any attention to her. Lowering her voice even further, she murmured, "I'll miss you."

"Me too. I really liked coming home last night and having you be there."

"None of that during working hours," Renee chided with another smile.

"What?" Stark asked in an innocent tone.

"You know what."

"Okay, maybe I do...a little."

"I should go," Renee said softly. "By the way... I really like waking up with you."

Stark made a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. "Now look who's not playing fair."

"Call me soon. Be safe."

"Roger that." Stark hung up the phone gently, wondering when she would see her new lover again. Be safe.

You have one voice mail message. Please enter your password now.

The iron gray-haired man, flat stomached and tight jawed, followed the electronic commands and thumbed in the numbers on his cell phone as he navigated the Beltway. He had business meetings scheduled the entire day and another kind of meeting that evening. That meeting was with a group of men he swore he would never associate with five years ago. The old adage was true—-war made for strange bedfellows.

He kept his eyes on the five lanes of traffic as he listened to the message.

Target relocating unexpectedly to Zone One, precise destination undetermined. Duration unknown. Will advise.

A souped-up Mustang cut in front of him, forcing him to brake sharply. His violent curse, however, was not directed at the driver ahead of him but at the possible disruption of his carefully orchestrated plans. There had been far too many false starts brought about by inexcusable mistakes and occasionally by pure and simple bad luck—foreign operatives denied visas because of lost paperwork or key domestic militiamen arrested for domestic violence or assault and battery. Now that the operation was officially underway and the great machinery of war had been set in motion, he could no longer influence the timing of events. If his forces could not strike their primary target in concert with the attacks of their allies, they might not get another chance.

The decadent regime that held the reins of power in Washington was weak now due to years of ignorance and hubris. But he was not fool enough to think it would remain so after the first attack was launched. The advantage was his now, and he could not lose it.

He punched the number to leave a return message.

"Target location change immaterial. Plan and timetable unchanged."

CHAPTER TWENTY

C am stood in profile at the window, shafts of sunlight streaming around her body and highlighting the sculpted planes of her face. From her position in the doorway of Cam's bedroom, Blair thought her lover looked like a warrior goddess carved from gold. There was an utter stillness in her body and a distant expression on her face that Blair had come to recognize as Cam preparing herself for battle. This time, Blair knew, Cam was readying herself for whatever foe Blair might need to fight.

I love you for that look. I love you for being willing to face what comes next. I wish you didn 't have to, but I don't have the strength to sendyou away.

"Darling?" Blair murmured softly as she crossed the room.

Immediately, Cam turned from the vista she had not actually been surveying and greeted her lover with a smile. "Hey. All settled?" She held out her arm and drew Blair close, stroking Blair's back.

"I only unpacked a few things," Blair replied, curving into Cam's side. She slid a hand beneath Cam's jacket and rested it on the crest of her hip. "Just in case we're not staying."

"Are you ready?" It was 1150 and Blair's appointment with the breast specialist at Walter Reed Army Medical Center was scheduled for 1300. Cam had reviewed the itinerary with Mac on the short plane ride earlier that morning. The first team was waiting in front of her apartment building now.

"In just a minute." Blair shifted away and caught Cam's hand, drawing her to the sofa where they had made love only days before. Those few hours of peace and passion seemed very far away. Blair brushed the anger aside and focused on the present. "There's something I want to talk to you about before we leave."

Cam regarded Blair intently, searching the familiar cobalt blue eyes for signs of fear or withdrawal. Gratefully, she found neither. Since the previous afternoon when Blair had told her what was wrong, she had been half expecting Blair to try to push her away. That's what the woman she had met less than a year before would have done. Her relief at discovering that Blair trusted her to stay—trusted in the strength of their love—was profound. She took her lover's hand and cradled it between her own. "What is it?"

"I have some idea of what's going to happen this afternoon." Blair traced her thumb over the top of Cam's hand. Her voice was steady and calm. She was ready. The initial shock had finally dissipated and her strength of will had returned. She, too, was prepared for battle. "If the surgeon has the slightest doubt about what this might be, I want it out of my body."

"Yes. So do I." As far as Cam was concerned, the upcoming examination couldn't be done soon enough. It was as if she could see a bullet streaking toward Blair's body, and she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't get in front of it, and she couldn't push Blair out of the way. Her helplessness was eating holes in her gut. If there was the slightest chance of an enemy within Blair's body, she wanted it killed. Dead. Destroyed. Immediately.

"There's something else I want you to know," Blair said quietly.

Cam brushed her fingertips over Blair's cheek. "Tell me."

"If this is cancer, there might be several treatment options." Blair watched Cam's eyes as she spoke. "But even if there are alternatives to surgery, I want a mastectomy."

"All right." Cam's expression never changed and her voice never wavered. "Whatever you want, as long as it's the best chance of cure."

"Apparently sometimes radiation therapy is as good as surgery, but there is always a small chance that another tumor could develop later on down the road. I don't want to face that, not after what happened to my mother."

Cam's throat tightened as she saw the pain swim in Blair's eyes. Voice husky, she said, "I understand."

"Cam...! saw what my father went through. I don't want you—"

"Don't," Cam said gently, brushing her thumb over Blair's lips. "We're not there yet—nowhere near thinking about that. And no matter what happens, I need you. And I need to be with you."

Closing her eyes, Blair pressed her cheek to Cam's hand. "God, I wish this wasn't happening."

"So do I, baby." Cam leaned forward and kissed Blair gently. "But let's find out what we're facing first. This may very well turn out to be nothing at all."

Blair nodded. "I know. But the numbers are not on my side-— if not now, five years from now, or ten, or twenty." She sighed and met Cam's eyes. "I've always known it. I just don't think about it."

"None of us can predict the future. The best we can do is make the most of the life we have." Cam kissed her again. "I love you so much, Blair."

With a small cry, Blair took Cam's face between her palms and found her mouth, taking the kiss deeper with almost desperate force. When she drew away, tears danced on her lashes. "I count on it. I count on you. I never imagined having anyone like you in my life."

Cam kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth, tenderly but with trembling intensity. "I feel like I was born to love you. Just let me, and I'll be happy."

With a shaky laugh, Blair threaded her arms around Cam's waist and pressed into her. "As if I could help it."

A trim redhead in a United States Army uniform bearing the insignia of a lieutenant colonel stepped into the spare, functional office and crossed the gray carpet to where Blair sat in one of the two chairs facing a plain, dark wood desk. Cam sat beside her. Extending a hand to Blair, the woman said, "Ms. Powell, I'm Dr. Leah Saunders."

"How you do, Dr. Saunders," Blair replied, shaking the doctor's hand. She indicated Cam, "My partner, Agent Cameron Roberts."

"Doctor," Cam said as she shook Dr. Saunders's hand as well.

After the introductions, the surgeon walked around behind her desk and sat down. She slid a plain manila folder to the center of the dark green leather blotter and picked up a nearby pen. As she opened the folder, she met Blair's eyes. "I need to get some medical history before we proceed to the examination. I have your basic data here, so we can concentrate on the present problem."

"Of course." Blair's throat felt dry but her voice was steady.

"You're concerned about a lump in your left breast?"

"Yes."

"When did you first notice this?"

"Three days ago."

"Any tenderness or history of trauma to the area?"

"No. I just happened to feel it while I was showering."

The doctor scribbled a note. "Have you ever had any problems with your breasts previously—lumps, drainage from the nipple, rashes on the skin?"

"No, never."

"Have you ever had a mammogram?"

"No."

Again, Dr. Saunders paused to enter the information. Then she looked up, her eyes intently focused but her expression kind. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't order a mammogram on someone your age. However, given the family history, if it turns out you do have a palpable lesion, I'd like to image both breasts just for completion's sake."

"Yes," Blair replied quietly. "That would be fine."

"Are you having any other health issues I should be aware of?" At Blair's negative head shake, Dr. Saunders added, "Any medications or drugs of any kind?"

"No."

"Okay." Dr. Saunders stood and gestured to a door on the opposite side of the room. "The examination room is this way. I'll have a nurse bring you a gown, and then I'll be in in a few minutes. Your partner is welcome to accompany you."

"Thank you." Blair reached for Cam's hand, and together they followed the surgeon.

In less than five minutes, Blair was naked from the waist up, covered only by a thin paper gown, and seated on a vinyl-covered examination table. Dr. Saunders arrived, washed her hands rapidly in the sink in one corner, and turned to Blair.

"All set?"

"Yes." Blair looked past the surgeon to Cam and smiled weakly.

Cam stood just inside the door of the ten-by-ten-foot white tiled room as the surgeon instructed Blair to lie down, sit up, and raise her arms while she observed and palpated Blair's breasts. As she watched the examination, sweat broke out between Cam's shoulder blades, although the room was not overly warm. She'd never seen Blair's eyes quite so blank before, as if her body was present but her mind was somewhere else. The surgeon was proficient and professional and apparently gentle, but Cam couldn't help but see Blair as victimized by the entire process. She clenched her fists at her sides and fought back the surge of fury. She had no one with whom to be angry and nowhere to vent her frustration.

"You can close your gown now," Dr. Saunders said as she stepped back. She waited for Blair to retie the paper strips that held the gown closed before she continued. "You have a one-centimeter density in the upper outer quadrant of your left breast."

Blair's face registered no change. Cam's stomach turned over, but she forced herself to listen.

"It's in an area of the breast where many women your age normally have unusually dense tissue. However, this is a discrete mass and warrants further evaluation."

"What kind of evaluation?" Blair asked in a low, controlled tone.

"The mammogram, first of all. I want to be sure there aren't any other abnormalities that I can't feel."

The doctor's tone was matter-of-fact and straightforward. Nothing she'd said so far surprised Blair. She'd known from the first instant that what she felt in her breast was not her imagination. She had read about the disease, lectured about the disease, and lived through it, even though at the time of her mother's illness, she had not understood all the nuances of treatment. "And then?"

"Assuming that nothing else shows up on the films, that area needs to be biopsied."

As Dr. Saunders spoke, Cam stepped around her and moved to Blair's side. She rested her hand at the small of Blair's back; on top of the baby-blue paper gown. Beneath her fingers, she felt her lover tremble. Cam asked quietly, "What if the mammogram is normal? Does she still need the biopsy?"

"Good question," Dr. Saunders replied. "The answer is yes, because a mammogram is not 100 percent accurate. Even if it's normal, in the presence of a discrete palpable mass, a biopsy is still indicated." She looked from Cam to Blair. "I could do a needle, aspiration biopsy here in the office. It's simple and relatively painless. The problem is it will only sample a small portion of the mass. If it comes back normal, we can't be sure that there isn't an adjacent area of abnormality which the needle biopsy missed."

Blair didn't hesitate. "I want it out. All of it."

"Very well," the surgeon said. "I'll arrange for the mammogram this afternoon to be certain that there are no problems in the rest of the breast or the right side. We'll plan on an open biopsy of the left breast at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. I'll need to make a small incision directly over the lesion. You'll be sedated, but not completely anesthetized. The incision will be about an inch long. It will leave a scar, but it shouldn't be too noticeable given time."

"Yes. That's fine."

For the first time, Dr. Saunders looked the slightest bit uneasy. "Ms. Powell, would you like me to brief your father?"

Blair met the surgeon's eyes. "I'd rather he not know right now."

After a second's hesitation, the surgeon nodded. "If you leave your phone number with my secretary, I'll call you as soon as I've reviewed the mammogram. Someone will be by in just a few minutes to give you instructions regarding the surgery tomorrow and to take you to radiology. Do either of you have any questions?"

"No. Thank you," Blair said quietly.

Cam shook her head.

"I'll speak to you later then."

As soon as Dr. Saunders left, Blair let out a long breath and leaned into Cam's side. "Well."

Cam wrapped her arm around Blair's shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so. It's what I expected." Blair closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Cam's chest. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me, too," Cam whispered.

Renee glanced around the still-unfamiliar apartment. Like Stark, it was neat and tidy. And like her, here and there were surprising touches of sweetness. A hand-embroidered pillow on the sofa bearing the words "Home is where the heart is." It looked like something done by a grade-schooler, and Renee was willing to bet it was a gift from some friend or family member. The fact that Stark actually kept it out was testament to how tender at heart she was. A small, carefully tended aquarium filled with colorful fish sat on an ornate pedestal table in one corner of the room. A list of specific instructions as to the care and feeding of the inhabitants sat nearby with an assortment of food and medicinal agents. Obviously, some friend or neighbor looked after them when Stark was away on assignment. For some reason, the touching attention that Stark paid to these small creatures stirred Renee's heart.

You are such a sweetheart God, how did I ever find you?

As if in answer, Renee's cell phone rang and the readout indicated it was Stark. With a quick smile, Renee answered. "Hey! I was just thinking of you,"

"How you doing? Are you home?"

Home. Renee glanced around the apartment. She'd unpacked the suitcases she'd brought from her sister's. There was very little else of hers in the apartment, other than a few books that she'd acquired during her convalescence. Is that what this is? Home? Am I ready for that?

"I just got in," Renee said quickly. "How about you?"

"I'm at the hotel. Probably in for the night."

"How long will you be there?"

"I'm not sure," Stark said pensively. "For some reason, we're in an information blackout. I don't even know what we're doing in the morning. The commander is assembling the first team at 0530 for a briefing."

"Just the first team?" Renee asked curiously. "That's not SOP, is it?"

"No. Usually the whole team gets briefed on the complete itinerary and schedule for several days in advance." Stark was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "We spent all afternoon at Walter Reed. Just the first team."

Renee inhaled sharply in surprise. "Blair?"

"Yeah."

"Oh God."

"Yeah," Stark agreed glumly. "I have no idea what's going on, but it can't be good if we had to rush down here for...something."

"What about the commander?" Renee asked, thinking how much she liked both women and how much they had already been through.

"Same as always, totally in control. Except...! don't know, she looks...too controlled, you know? Like something might crack."

"Yes." Renee slumped onto the couch and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Are you okay?"

"Just worried."

At that, Renee smiled faintly. "I wish I were there with you."

"Yeah, I miss you."

"Me too, sweetie," Renee breathed softly. More than I imagined possible.

On the TV screen, Sigourney Weaver's Ripley stalked through the bowels of the Nostromo searching for the alien life form that had killed most of her crew. Cam was stretched out on her bed in a faded gray T-shirt and gym shorts. In a matching outfit, Blair lay curled against her, her head on Cam's shoulder. She was so quiet she might have been asleep, but Cam knew that she wasn't. Her heart was beating too rapidly for that.

"I think you should tell your father," Cam said softly.

"He's got enough on his mind. We don't even know anything yet."

"That's not what matters." Steadily, Cam stroked Blair's bare arm. "He'd want to be here for you."

"I know, but I don't want him to worry if there isn't any reason to."

"Baby," Cam murmured, dipping her head so that she could kiss Blah's lips. "I got the sense that being your father is very important to him. I think he'd want the chance to worry."

Blair squeezed her eyes closed. "I can't even imagine what it will bring up for him."

Cam's heart twisted, but she continued softly, "The same pain it brings up for you. That's why the two of you need to be together for this."

"God, I keep hoping this will just go away."

"I know. And maybe it will." Cam held her fiercely. "Probably it will. But until then, we need to be together. All of us. Like a family."

For the first time since she'd brushed her fingers over her breast and felt something that had never been there before, Blair cried. Cam kept her in her arms, rocking her very gently, until the tears abated. Then she pulled up the hem of her T-shirt and carefully dried her lover's cheeks.

"I'm not blowing my nose on your T-shirt," Blair mumbled.

"Oh, good. Sweat and tears are one thing, but sn—"

Blair's cell phone rang, causing them both to jump. Before it rang a second time, Blair snatched it up.

"Hello?...Yes, this is she...all right...yes. Yes, I understand... I'll be there. Thank you."'

Cam held her breath while Blair closed the phone and set it aside.

"Except for some increased density in the area of the mass, the mammogram is normal," Blair said in a rush.

"Oh, thank Christ." Cam pulled Blair back into her arms and kissed her. "God, that's good news."

"Yes." Blair gave a shaky laugh. "Now, all we have to do is get through the biopsy tomorrow."

"We will, baby," Cam murmured. "We will, I promise."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

24 August 2001

I t was still dark when Cam felt Blair leave the bed. When she heard the shower running in the bathroom, she threw back the covers and made her way into the adjoining room. Once inside, she tapped gently on the glass door of the shower before sliding it open a few inches. Blair stood beneath the steaming water, her hair streaming back from her face, her eyes closed. There were smudges beneath her eyes, testament to the fact that she had slept little, if at all, the night before.

"May I join you?" Cam asked softly.

Without opening her eye's, Blair pushed open the door and extended her hand. "Please."

Cam stepped in behind her lover and reached for the soap. Circling Blair's waist with one arm, she drew Blair back against her chest. Resting her chin on Blair's shoulder, she lathered the front of Blair's body with her other hand.

Neck arched, Blair rested her head back against Cam and sighed. "You have the best hands."

Chuckling softly, Cam smoothed her soapy palms over Blair's breasts, then down her abdomen. "And you are a beautiful woman." When she felt Blair stiffen, Cam continued evenly, "And there isn't one part of you I don't love." She pressed her fingers above the spot where Blair's heart beat. "But this is what I love most about you, Blair. What's inside...here."

Blair turned in the circle of Cam's arms and wound her arms around Cam's neck. Pressing her face to the soft warmth between Cam's neck and shoulder, she leaned into her lover, welcoming her solid strength. "With any luck, there'll just be a little scar. If there's more..."

"No scars, no matter how many or how big, are going to make me love you any less." Cam cupped her palm beneath Blair's chin and lifted her face until she could bring her mouth to Blair's. She took her time kissing her, exploring her lips, and then the inner surface, and then the inside of her mouth. She stroked and caressed and worshipped until she felt Blair tremble in her embrace. Then she drew away and whispered, "And nothing will ever make me want you any less."

"How is it that you always know what to say?"

Cam shook her head, her eyes dark as they held Blair's. "I don't. I just try to tell you how much you mean to me. I always feel like I come up short."

"Oh, Commander," Blair laughed tremulously as she brushed her fingers through Cam's wet hair, "believe me. You never come up short."

"Are you all right?" Cam asked as they stepped from the shower and she handed Blair a thick turquoise bath sheet.

"Yes, I think so." Blair wrapped herself in the oversized towel and knotted it just above her breasts. "I know I would have gotten through this no matter what." She reached out and caressed Cam's face. "But your being here for me..,I don't think I've ever felt so loved."

Cam tossed aside the towel she had been using to dry her hair and stepped close to Blair. Tenderly, she took Blair's face in her hands and kissed her veiy gently. "I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't be with you right now."

Blair's gaze softened as she searched Cam's face. "Are you all right? God knows you're not indestructible, even though sometimes you do make it hard to remember that."

"Thank you." A smile twitched at the corner of Cam's mouth. "And I'm fine."

"Then everything will be all right." Blair kissed Cam swiftly one last time and turned to leave the bathroom. "I'll be ready in just a few minutes."

A few seconds later through the open door, Cam heard the quiet sound of Blair talking on the phone. Then very clearly, she heard her lover's words.

"Hi, Dad? Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

The four Secret Service agents gathered in the sitting area of the hotel suite stood automatically when Cam entered with the first daughter by her side.

"As you were, please," Cam said to Mac, Felicia, Stark, and Parker. "Ms. Powell asked to be included in the briefing this morning."

All four nodded respectfully. Stark's expression, however, was worried, and Mac's blue eyes were particularly intense. Felicia appeared serene as always. Cynthia Parker, the newest member of the team, took her cue from the others and waited patiently, her attention on Cam.

"Ms. Powell is scheduled for an outpatient surgical procedure at 0700," Cam said evenly. "I want an absolute information blackout on this. No one gives a statement. No one gets close to her with questions."

Blair settled one hip on the arm of an overstuffed chair as Cam spoke. She was used to Cam's command mode and felt oddly comforted by it, even while struggling with the sensation of being disconnected from everything around her. She was acutely aware that the entire shape of her future could change in the next few hours. Plans she had made, dreams she had nurtured since childhood, and the joy of a newfound love could all be altered by a tiny clump of cells growing uninvited in her body. Those facts were nearly impossible to absorb, and yet she knew she must. Only by embracing the reality could she hope to emerge victorious. She would have her life back, no matter what the outcome of the biopsy. Blinking, she realized that Cam had stopped speaking.

"Sorry." With an apologetic smile, Blair rose. "I just wanted to be here when the commander explained the situation. I know you'll do your best to keep this from the press." She shrugged. "But I also know how persistent they are. If it gets out..."

"It won't," Stark said vehemently, looking from Blair to her colleagues. "Right?"

The series of Roger that's made Blair smile. She reached out to clasp Cam's hand.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with."

Nude except for a thin cotton gown tied in the back, Blair lay on a stretcher with the back elevated to forty-five degrees, a sheet pulled to her waist. Cam waited by her side, their fingers entwined. Stark stood guard just inside the door of the holding area—the anteroom where patients were readied to be taken back to the operating room. Felicia and Cynthia were posted in the hallway just outside, and Mac waited with the vehicle in an underground parking garage. There were no other patients in the holding area. It was 6:45 a.m.

Cam heard a voice in the hallway shout Attention just as Stark snapped into position, hands at her side and eyes front. Andrew Powell stepped into the room with three men close behind. He stopped abruptly and then turned to say something to the man closest to him. His lead security agent looked unhappy but he and the other two men backed out into the hallway. Then the president rapidly crossed the room to stand on the side of the stretcher opposite Cam. He leaned down and kissed Blair's forehead.

"Hi, honey."

"Hi, Dad."

The president glanced over at Cam. "Cam."

"Sir."

"How are you doing?" he asked gently as he brushed a nonexistent strand of hair from Blair's cheek. His blue eyes, exactly the same shade as Blair's, swirled with emotion.

She smiled up at him, her gaze calm. "I'm okay. Really."

"Of course." He regarded her solemnly. "I'm glad you called."

Blair glanced at Cam, then at her father. "I should've called sooner. I'm sorry."

The president shook his head slightly. "I'm sure you had a lot on your mind." He cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I talk to the doctor?"

"No, but there isn't anything to tell just yet. After the biopsy, then we'll know." Blair took a deep breath. "Dad, it's probably going to turn out to be nothing. This is just a precaution."

"I know that," he said with certainty.

At that moment, Leah Saunders, dressed in navy blue scrubs, walked in through a door at the rear of the room. When she saw the president by Blair's side, she saluted smartly. "Sir. I'm Colonel Saunders, your daughter's physician."

"Doctor," Powell said.

"We're about set," Dr. Saunders said, her focus now on Blair. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"I'll just give you a minute then, and the aides will take you back. I'll meet you there."

Andrew Powell kissed Blair's forehead once again. "I'll see you in a little while, honey."

"Dad," Blair protested, "you don't have to stay."

"I can take phone calls here as well as anywhere else." He smiled and stepped back a few paces to give his daughter and her lover privacy.

Cam kissed Blair gently on the lips. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too."

"See you soon," Cam whispered, feeling helpless and useless and furious at her impotence.

As the assistants pushed the stretcher toward the doors to the operating room, Cam walked alongside, still holding Blair's hand, until they reached the restricted area. Then she stood in the doorway until Blair was out of sight. Turning back, she saw that the president still waited, and she rejoined him.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I just don't want to go very far." What she wanted to do was shove back through the double doors with the big red Restricted sign, find Blair, and get her the hell out of there.

Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her face, because the president's expression softened and sympathy flickered in his eyes. "They'll take good care of her here. Plus, it will take more than this to knock Blair down."

Cam smiled faintly. "I know. She's amazing."

The president nodded. "Yes, she is."

With her coffee growing cold in a cup on the end table, Cam paced in front of the window in a private waiting room while the president sat on a sofa in the far corner talking on the phone. His security agents flanked the door. Cam had stationed Felicia and Stark in the recovery room where Blair would be taken after her surgery. She glanced at her watch for the tenth time. 0725.

She tried to visualize what was happening to Blair while she stood powerless to help. Hospitals were such cold, impersonal places. She remembered what it had been like when she'd been shot the last time. The lights in the ICU were so bright and the muffled voices so confusing and the disorientation so frightening. And the pain. Jesus, the pain. "I just don't want her to hurt."

"The biopsy shouldn't be too bad," Andrew Powell said quietly.

Jerking in surprise at the sound of his voice, Cam met his eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't." He set his papers aside and joined her at the window. "She'll be sore for a few days, but I doubt it will bother her much."

Cam stared at the expanse of green lawns visible through the window, thinking that she was only experiencing a fraction of the anxiety and anguish this man had endured when the woman he loved had gone through something far worse. "I hate not knowing what to do to help her."

"Yes," the president said quietly. "I know."

They stood silently a moment longer until the president's phone rang again, and he turned away with a brief pat on Cam's shoulder.

At 7:50 a.m., Dr. Saunders appeared. The president hastily concluded his phone call and stood. The surgeon looked first at Cam and then at the president.

"Ms. Powell is fine. She's in the recovery room and resting comfortably."

Cam and Andrew Powell both spoke at once.

"What about—"

"Did you—"

The president motioned to Cam. "Go ahead."

"Can you tell anything yet?" Cam's heart was racing and her throat was dry. Even in the midst of a crisis, her heart rate never rose above sixty. Now it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

"Nothing definitive," the surgeon said apologetically. "We really can't tell anything without a thorough pathologic examination, but I will say that the lesion was small, and I'm quite sure I removed it all. There was a small lymph node in the area that I removed as well. That appeared perfectly normal."

"How long until the pathology report is available?" the president asked.

"I put a rush on it, sir. Sometime tomorrow."

"Can we see her?" Cam asked.

"Yes. She's been sedated, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you both."

Cam extended her hand. "Thank you."

Dr. Saunders smiled. "Of course." She turned to the president and saluted. "Sir."

"Thank you, Colonel," the president replied as he returned her salute.

"Hey," Blair said thickly, blinking to focus her eyes. "You guys still here?"

"Yes," Cam murmured as she leaned down to kiss her lover's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Hurts a little but..I've taken worse hits than this...in the ring." With effort, she turned her head and regarded her father. "You okay?"

"Just fine, honey. I have a meeting scheduled so I need to leave in a minute. The doctor says you did great."

"I can't...remember anything." Blair frowned. "Damn drugs."

Cam grinned. "Why don't you close your eyes and get some sleep."

"Does she...know anything yet?" Blair struggled to clear her head and failed. "Hate...the waiting."

"I know, baby," Cam murmured soothingly, reaching over the rail to stroke Blair's hair. "We'll know soon. And then we'll take care of it."

"You sure?"

"I promise," Cam said fiercely. She continued to stroke Blair's cheek as her lover's eyelids fluttered closed. Once she was certain Blair was asleep, Cam straightened and found the president's gaze fixed intently upon her. "We'll be at my apartment tonight, sir. I'll call you with an update, if that's all right with you."

"That sounds fine. I can see that she'll be in good hands."

"Thank you, sir."

He shook his head, saying quietly, "No, Cam. Thank you."

Alone, Cam pulled a chair over and settled down to wait. Stark and Davis stood at the door, quietly keeping guard.

"I feel fine, and I'm sick of lying in bed."

Cam had never heard Blair sound petulant before, and she found it rather endearing. However, she hid her smile, preferring not to incite her reluctant patient any further. "How about if we just have our pizza in bed while we watch a movie? You don't have to sleep."

Blair regarded her lover suspiciously. Her breast ached, her head felt fuzzy, and Cam had been so sweet all afternoon, it was making her cranky. She didn't like being taken care of—well, maybe she did, a little. And that was annoying her, too. "What kind?"

"Cheese."

"No pepperoni?"

"Ah—I thought that might be a bit much after the anesthesia and all." Cam eased onto the bed and settled her hand on Blair's thigh. In a husky voice, she murmured, "I got The Mummy Returns, "

"Letterbox?"

"Uh-huh."

Carefully, Blair shifted over to make room on the pillows piled at the head of the bed. "Okay. Cheese sounds good."

"Want a pain pill?"

"No."

"Maybe after you eat?"

Blair started to protest, but caught a glimpse of the worry in Cam's eyes. She covered Cam's hand with her own and squeezed gently. "I will if I need it. Promise."

"Deal. I'll get some paper plates and more soda."

Halfway through the mummy's rampage through London, Blair fell asleep. Cam rose gingerly, gathered up the leftovers, and carried the lot to the kitchen. Her head throbbed, and yet she didn't feel tired. Now that Blair was home, and safe, the last few days felt more and more like a bad dream. It was hard to believe that there could be anything wrong with Blair, let alone something life-threatening. Still, Cam knew it wasn't quite over yet. And the waiting was pure torture.

Leaning against the counter, she rubbed her hands over her face in a vain attempt to chase away the headache and settle her nerves. Then, abruptly, she reached for the phone and punched in a number.

"Mother? There's something I want to talk to you about."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

25 August 2001

B lair sat curled up in the corner of the couch, a pillow behind her back and a blanket over her knees. She sketched on a pad that lay in her lap, her eyes drifting between the paper and the woman who sat across from her at a small table by the windows. Cam wore a faded; nearly threadbare work shirt and red boxers. Only two buttons just below her breasts held the shirt closed. Her dark hair was unruly and her profile pale and remote, as if chiseled from stone.

"You have a face to make an artist weep," Blair muttered as she drew rapidly.

"Huh?" Cam glanced up and turned in Blair's direction. "Need something?"

A slow, suggestive smile lit Blair's face. "Maybe."

"Feeling better?" Cam grinned back, one brow arching. She was glad that Blair seemed able to lose herself in her work, because all she had wanted to do since wakening was call the doctor to ask if the pathology report was finished. She hadn't, knowing that as soon as Dr. Saunders had any information, she would contact Blair. One did not keep the first daughter in the dark about something like that any longer than necessary.

"Just fine." Blair indicated the empty space on the other end of the sofa. "Except I'm kind of lonely."

Cam set the newspaper aside and crossed the room to join her lover. Once seated, she drew one leg up on the cushion and extended her arm along the back, facing Blair. Her bare foot just brushed the bottom of the blanket draped over Blair's bent knees. "Are you going to be all right for the show in terms of finishing everything up?"

"Mmm," Blair replied absently, flipping to a fresh page on her sketchpad. "I might not finish one or two...depending on...how long we stay here. But even without them, I should be okay." She looked up, meeting Cam's eyes. "Would you mind unbuttoning your shirt?"

"All right," Cam replied slowly, her tone pitched low. Moving nothing except her hand, she loosed the two buttons and allowed her shirt to fall open between her breasts. "Good enough?"

"For the moment."

They were silent as Blair's hand moved in sure, swift strokes over the surface of the paper, her blue eyes, dark with purpose, flicking back and forth between her lover and her art.

"Shrug it off your left shoulder just a bit, so your breast is exposed," Blair requested without looking up.

Again, being careful not to move the rest of her body, Cam pushed her shirt aside so that part of her chest was bared. The room was warm, yet her nipple contracted not from the touch of the air against it, but from the sweep of Blair's eyes over her skin. As a child, she'd sat in on classes her mother taught using nude models. When older, she'd posed nude as well. Neither experience had felt sexual, and she had learned to love the human form in a purely aesthetic way as a result.

She'd known that posing for Blair would be different, but she hadn't anticipated just how much. Despite the fact that she knew Blair saw her body now only in the context of light and shadow, texture and line, angle and curve, being the object of Blair's intense focus stirred her nonetheless. Her pulse jumped, her skin tingled, and, despite herself, arousal fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She worked to keep her breathing even.

"Doing okay?" Blair murmured, her eyes on her sketch pad as she turned to another page.

"Yes."

"Can you slip off your boxers and then return to the same position."

"Sure." Cam's voice was husky.

Blair seemed not to notice as she switched from pencil to charcoal. Head bent, she sketched effortlessly, concentrating on the curve of Cam's breast against the long line of her arm in one view, drawing the angles and contours of her profile in the next. Suddenly she raised her head. "Now the shirt."

Wordlessly, Cam obeyed.

As Blair prepared to start a new sketch, she paused to let her eyes travel from Cam's face down the column of her neck and over her chest to the long plane of her abdomen. One lean leg angled over the edge of the sofa to the floor, while the other was bent at the knee and extended along the seat toward Blair. There was only a shadow of the dark triangle between her thighs.

"I've sketched women in the nude before," Blair remarked quietly, her gaze returning to Cam's face.

"I know," Cam said, her thighs tightening. "I've posed before, too."

"I've never become sexually aroused while I was doing it." Blair's hand rested on the surface of the paper, immobile.

Cam swallowed around the sudden need in her throat. "Neither have I."

"I am now." Blair's breath caught as she saw the flush of excitement rise on her lover's chest.

"Me, too."

"You are so beautiful," Blair whispered.

"No," Cam said quickly when Blair moved to put down her charcoal and pad. "We can't."

Blair's eyes flashed with frustration, but she nodded. Just the action of leaning over had sent a twinge of pain shooting through her breast, reminding her of the recent surgery. She sighed, carefully placing the articles on the coffee table beside her. "I've lost my concentration."

"Should I get dressed?"

"I don't know," Blair said suggestively, poking a leg out from beneath the blanket and rubbing her foot up the inside of Cam's thigh. "How adventurous do you feel?"

Laughing, Cam grabbed Blair's ankle before the questing foot could reach higher. "Right this minute, I'm on simmer. Touch me there, and I'm going to get uncomfortably warm."

"I wouldn't mind watching you put the fire out."

Shaking her head, Cam reached for her shirt, which she had dropped on the floor. "I don't trust you to just watch."

"I've been known to show restraint at times," Blair protested, "even though I seem to have little where you're concerned."

Standing to step into her boxers, Cam gave Blair a sidelong glance. "Let's test your restraint some other time, when it won't matter if you weaken."

"I'll hold you to that."

"No argument from me." Cam leaned down to kiss her. When Blair curled fingers in her hair, held her head firmly, and sucked on her tongue, the heat in Cam's belly burst into flames. She pulled back, gasping. "Not fair."

Blair regarded her with a combination of hunger and ferocity. "I love the way you want me. I couldn't stand to lose that."

Swiftly, Cam knelt by Blair's side and gentled a hand against her cheek. "You won't. I promise. But I don't want to hurt you, either."

With a sigh, Blair rested her forehead against Cam's. "I know. I know you're right"

"The next time I pose for you," Cam whispered, "let's make sure we have time to finish everything."

"I love you," Blair said with a smile.

Cam smiled and stood. "Are you hun—"

The phone rang and they stared at each other for a millisecond before Cam grabbed it. "Roberts." She listened, then extended the phone to Blair. "Marcea."

"Hello," Blair said with affection, watching Cam as she crossed the room and disappeared from her view. "Yes, she told me she called you...No, of course I don't mind...No, not yet. Some time today, we hope." Thank you, Blair mouthed as Cam set a fresh cup of coffee beside her. "Oh, I'd love to see you, but it's not necessary for you to come East just for this." She lowered her voice, although Cam had already returned to the kitchen. "If I should need more surgery, it might be good. I wouldn't worry so much about Cam then." Listening to the warm, gentle voice, her eyes brimmed with sudden tears, and she struggled to keep her voice even. "I'm all right. Really...We'll call you when we know something more." She blinked and whispered, "Thank you."

"Everything all right?" Cam asked in concern when she returned carrying a tray with toasted English muffins and more coffee.

Blair nodded, brushing at her cheeks. "Your mother is wonderful." She smiled tremulously at Cam. "She said she loves me."

"If she did, then she means it," Cam replied quietly. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, yes," Blair murmured. "I—"

The phone rang again. This time when Cam held it out to Blair, her expression was solemn. "Dr. Saunders for you."

Quickly, Blair took the phone. "Yes, this is Blair Powell. All right. Yes. Thank you."

"Well?" Cam asked before Blair had even pushed the off button, her stomach tight to the point of pain.

Blair pushed aside the blanket that still covered her knees and stood, extending her hand to her lover. "She expects the pathology report within the hour and asked me if we can come in."

Heart thundering, Cam squeezed Blair's fingers gently. "Let's get ready, then."

Less than an hour later, Blair and Cam once again sat side by side in the chairs facing Dr. Leah Saunders's desk. The otherwise empty room seemed to echo with their unspoken thoughts. Cam edged her chair over so that she could rest her right forearm on the arm of Blair's chair and clasp her lover's left hand.

"Are you okay?"

Blair gave Cam's hand a squeeze. "Just a little nervous."

"No matter what—"

The door opened and the doctor strode in, a folder under her right arm. She nodded to Cam and Blair and said immediately, even before reaching her desk, "The biopsy is benign."

Cam felt light-headed, as if she'd suddenly taken a punch to the gut. She barely had enough strength to murmur, "Thank God."

Blair's breath whooshed out on a relieved sigh, but she remained rigid, her gaze fixed on the surgeon's face. "What else?"

"Nothing specific," Dr. Saunders said as she sat. "The histology mostly shows the expected cellular pattern for a woman your age." She paused, studying first Blair, then Cam. "There ore however, a few areas of atypical ductal hyperplasia, which some authorities consider precancerous or, at the very least, a potential marker for the later development of breast cancer."

"What does that mean for me in practical terms?" Blair's voice was steady but her grip on Cam's hand was fierce.

"Unfortunately, we don't really know." The surgeon shrugged in frustration. "If the entire specimen were involved, I'd be much more concerned. In your case, it was a very small percentage of the tissue examined. However, with your family history, we have to be cautious."

"Meaning what?" Cam asked sharply, unconsciously assuming her command tone. Her lover's well-being was at stake, she was tired and edgy, and she could no longer tolerate feeling so helpless.

Blair shifted her attention to Cam, smiling softly. "It's all right, darling. We'll sort it out."

"Sorry," Cam whispered, her eyes holding Blair's.

"You don't need to be," Blair murmured before turning back to the surgeon. "What do you recommend?"

Dr. Saunders, used to the anxieties of patients and family members, continued in a quiet voice. "Because your mother developed breast cancer at an early age—premenopausal breast cancer—we have to be concerned about genetic inheritance. I would recommend that you have genetic testing to determine if you have the BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene for breast cancer."

"And if I do?" Blair asked.

"Then you have a 20 percent chance of developing breast cancer by the age of forty, and a 50 percent chance by the age of fifty." Still regarding Blair intently, Dr. Saunders added, "And you would be a candidate for elective mastectomies prior to the onset of the disease if you desired."

The nightmare, it seemed, had not ended, but Blair had not expected it to. She was incredibly thankful that she was not facing a diagnosis of breast cancer at this point in her life. But hearing the numbers applied to her so matter-of-factly only reminded her that she would never be free of the threat. She realized for the first time that she was crushing Cam's fingers and willed herself to relax.

"How likely am I to have the gene?"

"I can't speculate, because we have no way to determine if your mother had the gene or not. If she did, you have a 50 percent chance of having it as well."

"How do I find out?" Blair asked with determination.

"DNA testing can be done on a blood specimen."

"Can we do that today? I'd really like to go back to New York as soon as possible."

Colonel Saunders nodded. "I can have one of the technicians take the sample. It will take several days for the results, but I can call you with that. Once I check your incision, if everything looks to be healing satisfactorily, I don't see why you can't go home."

Blair looked at Cam. "All right?"

"Yes," Cam replied instantly. Knowing the foe was infinitely preferable to being taken unawares by an enemy cloaked in shadow. "Absolutely."

Stark called Renee while she waited by the passenger side of the lead car in front of the commander's apartment building. Mac was driving on the way to the airport, and she would ride shotgun.

"Hi! You busy later?"

Renee drew a sharp breath. "Are we talking about an in-person or a phone date?"

"I don't know," Stark mused. "I'm getting kind of addicted to the sound of your voice."

"I promise," Renee murmured, lowering her voice seductively, "I'm better in the flesh."

Stark's stomach did a flip and things lower down started throbbing. "Jesus. I'm on duty here."

"You started it." Renee laughed.

"Yeah, but it feels really good."

"Stop, now. We both have to work. And in case you've forgotten, the sound of your voice does very nice things to me, too."

Grinning, Stark said, "We'll be back in the city this afternoon, and I'll be off at seven. Do you want to have dinner somewhere?"

"Uh-huh.In bed."

Stark blinked and felt herself get wet. "Oh, man. That did it."

"Did you say something, sweetie?"

"Yes." Stark heard her voice waver and repeated more firmly. "I said yes. Definitely, yes."

"Mmm," Renee chuckled, "Can't wait."

1510 25Aug01

Falls Church, Virginia

A rental car carrying four men pulled into a parking lot next to a twenty-four-hour convenience store. A middle-aged Salvadoran man emerged from a battered Mercury and walked to the driver's side window.

"You are the gentleman sent by our mutual friend?" he asked in concise, polite tones.

"The, general told us you would provide papers," the bearded driver said curtly.

"That is correct, for $50 apiece, U.S. currency. And I do not provide papers, only the assistance for^ow to obtain them."

Perturbed, the driver glanced at the other men in the car, then back to the Salvadoran. "We were told you would provide legal identity papers for all of us."

"In Virginia, all that is required to establish legal status is a sponsor to affirm that you have a permanent address in the state. I will do that for you, and the commonwealth of Virginia will provide your identity papers." He glanced at his watch. "If we go now, we will be done by sundown."

Once the men had obtained their American driver's licenses, the driver stopped at a Kinko's and paid cash for ten minutes of computer time. There, he sent the same e-mail to two different Yahoo addresses. The recipients were both in Las Vegas and had been there for weeks while the final plans and timing for the operation were determined.

Credentials obtained. We leave tomorrow. Rendezvous in three days.

The summit meeting for the six pilots was confirmed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

P aula Stark sat nude at the head of the bed with Renee Savard snugged sideways between her legs, Renee's head on her shoulder. The remains of their deli sandwiches rested on plates on the bedside table along with an empty bottle of wine. With an arm wrapped around Renee's waist, Stark rested her cheek against Renee's temple and lazily circled a palm over her abdomen. "Hungry? There's some food left."

"Uh-uh," Renee replied in a slow, somnolent drawl. "Right now, I can't think of anything except how damn good I feel."

"I really missed you."

Renee laughed quietly. "I noticed."

After the security team had reached Manhattan and Egret was settled in for the night, Stark had returned to her apartment to find Renee waiting. They'd kissed hello, carried the thick sandwiches that Renee had picked up on the way home from the FBI offices directly into the bedroom, and made small talk for ten minutes while they shared the wine and nibbled at the food. That was as long as Stark had lasted. She'd put her sandwich down, slipped her hand beneath the hem of the knee-length skirt that Renee had worn to work, and run her tongue slowly across Renee's lower lip. Halfway through the kiss, her hand had been most of the way up Renee's thigh. The rest had been a flurry of urgent motion and insistent caresses.

"I can't help it," Stark confessed, rubbing her chin softly back and forth along the tip of Renee's shoulder. "I can't think of anything better than touching you. Well, you touching me, maybe, but you know what I mean."

Eyes closed, Renee drifted in the hazy aftermath of passion, her hand covering Stark's as Stark stroked her. "When I'm with you like this, it's as if nothing else exists. Nothing outside this room; this bed, your arms around me. It's so peaceful." What she didn't say, what she was afraid to even think, was how perfectly right it felt. These moments with Stark refreshed her spirit and replenished her soul, reminding her that it was possible to trust, and to love and be loved.

"Sometimes," Stark whispered with her lips against Renee's ear, "I think about you—about the way you touch me. No one else has ever made me feel what you do. And I think that I'll never want anyone else but you to touch me."

Renee's body tensed as her heart shuddered in her chest. "Paula." She felt warm breath against her neck, the sturdy body supporting hers, the strong arms holding her safe. Picturing the gentle woman who had taken her with such fierce passion only moments before, she trembled, fighting what she most desired; Quietly, she said, "I haven't been very lucky in love." She shifted until she could meet Stark's gaze. "Until now."

"Did someone hurt you?" Stark's dark eyes were soft with sympathy. "Someone you loved?"

"Hurt me? Oh," Renee said with a small laugh, "I suppose it was more a case of someone not sharing my vision of love."

"Which is?"

Renee sighed. "I grew up believing the things I'd read in books—that love would be a wondrous thing of endless intensity and deep connection. A grand passion to end all passions. When I fell in love for the first time, I thought I'd found that. Her idea of a relationship turned out to be...different." She forced a smile and tried for a lighter tone. "I chalked that failure up to us both being too young, but I've tried it a couple more times without much success."

"So you don't believe in that kind of love anymore?" Stark's question was gentle as she continued to trace her fingertips over the smooth skin of Renee's abdomen.

"I didn't think so." Renee reached back a hand and cupped the nape of Stark's neck, drawing her close for a kiss before murmuring against her mouth, "You're making me change my mind."

"Good." Hearing the sadness and longing in Renee's voice, Stark wanted to heal the hurt that had been none of her doing, just because she couldn't bear the thought of Renee in pain for any reason. She kissed the corner of Renee's mouth and embraced her more tightly, cradling one small, firm breast in her pahn as if holding a fragile objet d'art. When Renee moaned softly and wrapped both arms around Stark's neck, Stark unconsciously smoothed her palm down the tight plane of Renee's abdomen until her fingers brushed the down between Renee's thighs.

"Paula," Renee breathed, her hips lifting to the promise of her lover's touch.

Stark trailed the tip of her tongue over the inner surface of Renee's upper lip before pressing deeper into the warm welcome of her mouth. As her tongue caressed her lover's, she eased a finger along either side of Renee's clitoris, squeezing gently.

Renee's body jerked, and she gasped, fingers closing convulsively on Stark's shoulders. Her hips rocked between Stark's legs in time to the pulse that beat between her own thighs. "I'm still so sensitive..! don't know if I can take it..."

"I'll go easy," Stark promised, a note of desperation in her voice. "I want to touch you so much. Please." She slid her hand lower into the slick heat, and Renee whimpered quietly against her neck. Stark's heart pounded and her stomach clenched around the sweet ache of arousal deep inside. "Okay? Honey, okay?"

Shuddering, Renee pressed her lips to Stark's ear. "Do it harder. Do it harder, just like that..."

Scarcely breathing, Stark followed the rise and fall of her lover's questing hips as she stroked over swollen flesh and circled the stiffly prominent bundle of nerves. When she flicked the rigid shaft, Renee made a keening sound and Stark pulled away, afraid she had hurt her.

"No!" Renee cried. "Don't stop. You're...making me... come."

"Oh God," Stark choked, burying her face in Renee's neck as she fondled her to orgasm. I love you.

Renee came with a high thin wail, color bursting behind her eyes and heat blasting along her spine. Back arched, eyes tightly closed, she rode the edge of forever in her lover's arms.

"Ohh," Renee sighed, slumping limply against Stark's chest, her head dropping onto Stark's shoulder. "You have amazing hands."

Arms around her lover, Stark kissed Renee's forehead, the corner of her eye, the tip of her nose. "You're so beautiful when you come. I just want to keep doing it."

Shakily, Renee laughed. "Okay. Sure. Why not. Only... give me a minute to catch my breath." She snuggled closer, then gradually became aware of the staccato rhythm of Stark's heart beating beneath her cheek. "You okay, sweetie?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Renee raised her head and searched Stark's face. She rocked her hips slowly between Stark's thighs. "Sure?"

Pupils dilating with the unexpected pressure, Stark caught her breath at the shaft of pleasure that shot through her. "Uh...that's really nice."

"You know," Renee said quietly, resting her cheek in the curve between Stark's neck and shoulder, "I love to hear you come."

"Yeah?" Stark grew very still.

"Uh-huh. A lot." Renee found Stark's fingers and clasped them in her own, drawing their joined hands between Stark's thighs. She guided their intertwined fingertips over the prominence of Stark's clitoris, her pulse racing as Stark moaned quietly. "Yes," she breathed, "like that."

Eyes closed, Stark nestled her face in Renee's hair, one arm holding her close as the excitement of their twin touches brought her rapidly to a peak. "Feels good...so good. Stay there..."

"You're beautiful," Renee whispered through a throat tight with expectation. Their hands moved in rapid synchrony, and she heard Stark groan again. "Tell me. Tell me what you feel."

"Aches...nice...I want to come." Stark's thighs jumped with the first whisper of release. "It's starting..." Her stomach twitched and jerked and thunder roared through her head.

Renee stopped breathing, her senses completely focused on the hard heat beneath her ringers and the tight stillness of Stark's body. Afraid to break the moment, she remained silent while her mind screamed for Stark to surrender. Her own heart pounded as if she were about to explode. When Stark gave a startled shout and threw her head back with the first shock of orgasm, a cry tore from Renee's throat "Oh, Paula, yes"

"Oh God, oh God," Stark murmured over and over as she clung, shuddering, to Renee.

"Ahh," Renee said on a long breath when Stark collapsed against the pillows. "It's even better when I can hear you and feel you." She scooted around to stretch out beside Stark and then drew her lover into her arms. "I missed you, too."

Pillowing her face against Renee's breast, Stark mumbled, "How long does this last?"

"Does what last, sweetie?" Softly, Renee stroked Stark's face.

"This...incredible happiness."

Renee bit her lip and held Stark's face more closely to her breasts. When she could trust her voice not to quaver, she whispered, "Just as long as we remember how precious these moments are."

Cam leaned a shoulder against the partition that separated Blair's bedroom from the rest of the loft, watching her lover unpack. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"Yes," Blair said without looking around.

"What about changing the dressings? Can I help you do that?"

"I'm going to wait until bedtime when I take a shower. The doctor said I could get it wet tonight." Blair reached for the last of the clothes. "It shouldn't be that difficult."

"Will you call me, if you need something?"

"I'll be fine, darling." Suddenly, Blair stopped in midmotion and sat down on the side of her bed, a stack of T-shirts in her hand. "No, I won't. Hell. I miss you already."

"I can stay." Cam pushed away from the wall, her voice low and intense. I want to stay. Especially now—it's so hard to be away from you,

"The only good thing about the last few days was that we could be together all the time." Blair shook her head, her voice a monotone. "But it's harder here—I don't know why, but it feels like we'd be compromising you professionally."

"That's not what matters." Quickly, Cam closed the distance between them, sat on the bed beside her lover, and encircled her waist with an arm. "I love being with you. I love going to bed with you, waking up with you, just knowing that you're somewhere nearby. I love being able to look up and see you sitting across the room, absorbed in a sketch."

"I love all those things, too." Blair rested her cheek against Cam's shoulder, her fingers curled on the inside of Cam's thigh. "My breast is fine, and there's nothing I can do to hurt it since I don't really even have time to go to the gym. I need to finish two or three canvases by the middle of next week so Diane can get them to the gallery and hung for the show. I've got a ton of things to do around here before we get ready to leave for Camp David."

"And there are probably six piles of paperwork waiting on my desk for me to wade through," Cam agreed. She kissed the corner of Blair's mouth. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss you when it's time to go to bed."

"I know," Blair said with a rare note of discouragement in her voice. "Still, with the entire team downstairs and the occasional reporter wandering in and out, I don't think we should start cohabitating up here."

"You're right. I know you're right." Cam sighed, knowing, too, that it would only be harder on them both the longer she stayed. "I'll be downstairs for a few hours, then I'll stop up here before I head over to the apartment."

"That will work out just right," Blair replied, forcing a lighter note into her voice. "When I called Diane from DC to give her the news about the biopsy, she said she wanted to drop over tonight."

"Good." Cam kissed Blair gently, then stood. She settled her hands in her trouser pockets and observed her lover critically. There were shadows under Blair's eyes, and she was pale. "Promise you'll get some rest tonight, okay?"

Blair tilted her head and looked up at Cam with a small smile. "You look a little done-in yourself, Commander."

The corner of Cam's mouth quirked. "Never been better,"

"Uh-huh." Blair laughed, stood quickly, and brushed her mouth over Cam's. "You'd better leave now, because I'm starting to get ideas about how I'd really like to spend the evening. It's been far too long since we've been able to make love."

Cam laughed. "I think it's only been a couple of days."

"Like I said," Blair replied, her voice husky as she drew her hand up the inside of Cam's thigh and cupped her. When she squeezed, Cam gasped. Blair smiled. "Far too long."

Carefully, Cam placed both hands on Blair's waist and bent her head to capture Blair's mouth. Taking care not to press her chest to Blair's breasts, she kissed her deeply, letting her probing tongue satisfy some of her hunger. When she drew away, her heavy-lidded eyes were smoky with desire. "Don't do anything tonight except relax. Promise?"

Blair nodded, stroking Cam's cheek. "I love you. You've been wonderful through this. Thank y—"

"Blair," Cam murmured, catching Blair's fingers in hers and turning her head to press her lips to her lover's palm. She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against Blair's fingers. "Don't thank me for loving you, baby. Nothing has ever made me happier."

"I know you say that," Blair said, tilting her head back and studying Cam's face. "I'm not sure I understand why it makes you happy, but I know that you make me feel like I'm the center of your world."

"You are," Cam said quietly. She brushed her thumb over Blair's lower lip, then along the edge of her jaw until her fingers rested lightly on Blair's cheek. "Do you mind?"

"God, no." Blair gave a shaky laugh. "It scares me sometimes." She saw Cam's brows furrow and added hastily, "Oh, not because I don't want it. Definitely not that. But..because I'd be lost if you stopped."

Cam smiled tenderly. "I won't."

"Funny," Blair murmured just before she kissed her, "but I believe you."

At 2330, eight men assembled in the ready room at the compound in Tennessee. The general was present, as were his four top men. The three newcomers were men who headed their own paramilitary factions—one in South Carolina, one in Nebraska, and the last in Michigan. Each had played a small part in the larger plan that had been underway for over three years. They'd worked together before, including planning the bombing at the federal building in Oklahoma City. Despite the fact that several members had been captured, that had been the first action of the Patriot network on native soil, and they'd had great success recruiting personnel and raising money as a result. Now, an even more daring plan was underway.

"We are prepared to execute our arm of the operation," the general stated with certainty. He glanced at his men. "And these are the patriots who will carry out the ground action."

There were sounds of congratulations as the men shook hands and made introductions. The general continued, "According to the undercover agent's latest report, the target has returned to home base. At this point, our focus must be on her."

"What if there's another snag like there was in France?" the rail-thin, jittery Nebraskan asked. "Those foreigners have mapped out an awfully ambitious plan, and there's lots of ways for it to get fucked up."

"That's true," the general said. "But even if only part of the main operation comes off the way they've laid it out, it will be enough. And regardless of what happens, come September, we will implement our part of the plan." He took his time and met each man's gaze. "Are we all agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"Very well, then. And may God bless America."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

0015 26 August 2001

C am tapped quietly on Blair's door. She had a key; so did Mac and each team leader. She had never used hers, and wouldn't, unless it was an emergency. When the door opened, she was surprised to find that the woman standing on the opposite side, bare-legged in nothing but an oversized T-shirt, was not her lover.

"Hello, Commander," the stunning blond said quietly, a playful smile on her full mouth.

"Diane," Cam replied with a hint of a question. Finger to lips, Diane moved aside and gestured with her head toward the couch. Cam took two steps into the loft, stopping when she saw Blair curled up on the sofa, eyes closed, a brightly colored cotton throw covering her. Cam gave Diane an inquiring look and eased back into the hallway.

"She fell asleep in the middle of a sentence," Diane explained quietly as she pulled the door partially closed behind her.

"Is she all right?" Cam's voice vibrated with tension. She'd only been gone a few hours, but it felt like a month. "Was she complaining of any pain? She doesn't have a fever or anything, does she? Is—"

"Hey, slow down," Diane said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "I think she's just worn out." She tilted her head, her long blond hair swirling around her elegant neck, her azure eyes traveling from Cam's face down her body and back again. "You look ready for bed, too. I was going to spend the night in case she needs anything, but—"

"No," Cam interrupted. "You go ahead and stay. It will be good if you're here in the morning."

"I'm not so sure about that. She's likely to shoot first and ask questions later when she discovers that you were here just now and I didn't wake her."

Cam grinned. "Just keep your head down until I can talk to her. I'll tell her you were just following orders and didn't have any choice."

"Sounds good to me—I'd rather you take the heat." Diane reached out and squeezed Cam's hand, then released it. "Are you okay?"

"Sure."

Diane made an exasperated sound. "You know, that macho stuff might work with some people, but I've watched the two of you fall in love. I know what she means to you." And I'd give anything to have a woman look at me the way you look at her.

For the first time, Cam admitted to herself how tired she was, and how worried. "I'll be better when she gets the results of the genetic testing. Otherwise, I'm good."

"I meant it when I said you could call me, Cam. Just because Blair and I are friends doesn't mean that you and I can't be as well. We both love her."

"I know you do, and I'm glad."

Something in the way Cam said it, as if she really did know, brought Diane up short. Looking for a hidden message, she studied the calm charcoal eyes. She couldn't read a thing in them. "You don't mind?"

Cam shrugged and leaned a shoulder against the door frame. "She's an amazing woman. I can't imagine loving her and not wanting her."

"That's the difference between us, Cam. When I had the chance, I was afraid to do both at once. You never were." With a sigh, Diane leaned up and kissed Cam's cheek. "Go home. Go to bed. You look like hell."

"Ask her to call me when she wakes up. And...tell her I love her."

"That, Commander, will not be a news flash," Diane said with a small laugh, the sorrow leaving her eyes. "But I will be sure to pass along the message."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

Wisely, Diane didn't answer, but merely passed a steaming cup of coffee to her friend as she sat beside her on the sofa. She waited until Blair, looking grumpy under the incongruously bright and cheery cotton throw, had taken a few sips. She'd had an hour or so before falling asleep the night before to prepare her story. "Cam looked like she was really beat. The only way I could get her to go home to bed was to tell her that I thought you should sleep."

Blair frowned. "I think there's some trickery at work here, but I haven't had enough coffee yet to figure it out."

"She said she loves you and for you to call her when you're civil."

"She didn't say civil." Blair narrowed her eyes. "Did she?"

Diane smiled demurely.

Blair laughed. "God, I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." Diane reached across the space between them and briefly stroked the back of her fingers over Blair's cheek. "Are you going to be all right alone here today? I can stay, or you can come to my place."

"No, thanks. Really. I have to work, and Cam will be in and out. I'll be okay."

"Will you phone me as soon as you hear from the doctor?"

"I will. She said she'd rush the lab, but I don't know when we'll get the word."

"Whenever—day or night." Gently, Diane took Blair's hand. "And if you want to talk about anything, any time, just call, okay?"

"I promise." Blair leaned over and kissed Diane's cheek. "Thanks. I love you."

"I love you, too."

27Aug01

Panther Motel, Deerfield Beach, Florida

Report - Strike Team One. Confirm five core members and pilot, Strike Team Two, rendezvoused on schedule. Operation date established: September 11, 2001. Departure point: Boston. American Airlines Flight 11 to Los Angeles. Target: NYC. Tickets purchased via Sun Trust debit card for delivery to POB in Hollywood, Florida.

0615 27 August 2001

"I really like the way you look when you get ready for work," Stark commented as she sat cross-legged on top of the covers, a yellow terrycloth robe loosely belted around her waist.

"Yeah?" Renee turned from the dresser where she had been sorting through her travel jewelry box in search of the small gold hoops she intended to wear that day. She'd already donned a plain white shirt and dark trousers and clipped her weapon holster to her right hip. A matching blazer lay over a chair next to the open closet. "How come?"

Stark leaned back on both arms, unmindful of her robe opening to expose her chest. "You just look so...capable. I like it. It's sexy,"

"Sexy?" Renee shook her head with a fond smile. "I'll tell you what's sexy. Sexy is you lounging around in that robe with nothing on under it and most of you on display. Come on, have a little mercy—I have to leave for work in five minutes."

Stark followed her lover's gaze down her body and grinned. "You can't see anything."

"Sweetie," Renee said in a threatening tone as she stalked closer to the bed. "I don't need to see—I know what's underneath. Being reminded is what's dangerous." She leaned over and kissed Stark on the mouth, finishing with a small nip to her lower lip before straightening up,

Eyes slightly unfocused, Stark let out a shaky breath. "I don't think that was a very nice thing to do. Now I'm totally excited."

Renee slipped into her jacket and pocketed her badge. "Good. Think of me today."

"As if I wouldn't anyway," Stark mumbled. She closed her ₆ yes and lay back on the bed, listening to the soft sound of Renee's laughter lingering in the air.

0730 27Aug01

Delray Beach, Florida

Report - Strike Team Two. Confirm departure point: Boston. United Airlines Flight 175 to Los Angeles. Target: NYC. Two one-way, first-class tickets booked at a cost of $4500.00 each; contact address Delray Beach, Florida.

0910 27 August 2001

Blair set down her brush at the sound of a knock on her door and glanced at the clock. She'd been working since five a.m. in a faded red T-shirt and jeans, her hair tied back with a blue bandanna. She pulled the bandanna from her hair and wiped her hands on the way to the door. Out of habit, she checked the peephole and saw her lover on the other side. Quickly, she released the locks and pulled open the door. "Hi. You're early."

"Did you hear anything yet?" Cam stepped inside and waited for Blair to close the door before kissing her. "I finished the briefing early...well, actually I started the briefing early. I didn't want to miss Saunders's call."

"Nothing yet. We might not even get the test results today." She took Cam's hand and led her to the breakfast bar. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee. Have you eaten?"

Cam shook her head. "Just coffee is fine."

Blair narrowed her eyes. Cam had never looked anything less than 100 percent fit, even when she' d barely been recovered from a near-fatal gunshot wound. Now, her color was ashen, fatigue lines etched her cheeks, and her normally vibrant voice was tinged with weariness. "Cam, have you eaten anything?"

"I'm not really—"

"We haven't even been back two days, and I'm going out of my mind," Blair said, her tone low and edgy. "If I could have you around all the time, I probably wouldn't want it. But not being able to have you around all the time is destroying my concentration. And sleeping without you..." She held up her hands in frustration. "Now I have to worry that you're not taking care of yourself."

"I'm sorry," Cam said quietly.

Blair stopped abruptly, the coffee carafe in her hand poised over the glazed blue mug that sat alone in the middle of the white tiled counter. "Which part of all of this is keeping you awake at night?" What is tearing you apart?

A muscle in Cam's jaw jumped.

"We haven't talked about what we'll do if the tests come back positive," Blair said evenly as she poured the coffee and then passed the mug to her lover. "We haven't talked about the fact that sooner or later, I'm likely to develop breast cancer." She met Cam's eyes, her own sad. "I haven't asked you what this is doing to you. I'm sorry."

"Blair—" Cam said, starting to rise.

"No." Blair held up a hand. "Stay on the other side of the counter. Something happens to my reason when you touch me."

Although her eyes were dark, Cam's lips twitched in a fleeting grin. Then she took a long breath as concern eclipsed the humor in her expression. "If the tests come back negative, then it won't be much different for you than for any other woman, right? Breast cancer is something we all have to think about. You'll just have to be vigilant—self-examination, routine mammograms, checkups with the doctor—SOP."

Silently, Blair nodded, watching Cam's face intently. Cam was so very good at being strong. It wasn't an act. But sometimes, that strength shadowed her pain so well that even Blair could miss it.

"And if the tests come back positive," Cam continued steadily, "we'll do whatever you decide."

"You know what the recommendations are if I have the gene, don't you?"

"Yes." For the last day and a half, when she hadn't been working, Cam had been reading everything she could find on the Internet about breast cancer. She understood that with Blair's family history, if her lover turned out to have the gene for breast cancer, the likelihood was extremely high that she would develop the disease—possibly an aggressive form—before her fortieth birthday. She understood, too, that many authorities recommended bilateral mastectomies to prevent that. "I know about the surgery."

"How would you feel if I decided to do that?"

"Is that what you want to do?"

Blair shook her head. "You're so damn good at taking care of me that sometimes I don't even realize it. I want to know how you feel." For the first time, she reached across the counter and took Cam's hand, linking their fingers. "Let me be the comfort for you that you are for me."

In a gesture so rare that Blair's heart turned over, Cam broke eye contact and lowered her head. With a trembling hand, she covered her eyes.

"Oh God," Blair uttered, moving quickly around the counter. She wrapped her arms around Cam's shoulders and with one hand, guided Cam's face against her breasts. She kissed the top of her lover's head. "Sweetheart, it's okay."

Eyes tightly closed, Cam held on, her fingers spread over the strong muscles of Blair's back. "I don't know what to do. I can't stand to think of anything hurting you."

The words came so quietly that Blair had to strain to hear them. Cam's heart thundered against her, and she felt the tension ripple through Cam's body. "Nothing is hurting me now." She spread her fingers into the thick hair at the back of Cam's neck and gently tugged her head back. The anguish in Cam's eyes brought a flood of tears to her own. "If I need to have the surgery, I can handle the pain. I'm pretty sure I can even handle the...results." She brushed at Cam's hair with her fingertips. "I don't think I can stand it if it changes anything between us."

Swiftly, Cam surged upright, bringing their bodies into full contact, her arms still tight around Blair's waist. "There is nothing that will ever change how much I love you." She kissed Blair tenderly, but her body trembled with fierce urgency. When she drew her mouth away, she whispered hoarsely, "Not one scar, not two, not a hundred will ever make you less beautiful to me."

Blair pressed her face to Cam's neck, sliding her hands beneath Cam's jacket, fitting herself to every inch of her lover's body. Voice muffled, she murmured, "I need you so much."

"I need you, too." Cam kissed the wisps of hair at Blair's temple. "I should've stayed with you this weekend."

"I know. We'll figure out how to make this work." Having Cam next to her, sensing their love healing their shared pain, Blair felt her heart lift. With a small laugh, she added, "But at least I got work done."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. " Cam eased a hand under Blair's T-shirt and dipped her fingers beneath the back of Blair's jeans circling her fingertips in the small hollow at the base of Blair's spine.

"Mmm." Blair kissed Cam's neck, then the undersurface of her jaw, then a spot just below her ear. She smiled when Cam's heartbeat raced hard against her breast. Thighs pressed tightly to Cam's, she leaned back in her arms. "I missed you, though."

"Did you?" Cam shifted until her thigh rested between Blair's. "Did you suffer?"

"Sexual frustration can be sublimated, you know." Blair gripped Cam's shirt and pulled it from her trousers, then walked her fingers up Cam's bare abdomen. The muscles twitched beneath her fingertips and her own stomach clenched. "I got a lot of work done."

Cam's vision wavered. With the sudden swell of desire came the crushing need to keep Blair close, safe, hers. It took every ounce of Cam's willpower to fight back the aching urge to strip down, tear apart-— destroy— every single barrier that threatened to separate them. Their clothing was the most accessible, but it was the intangible, the things she couldn't get her hands around or her body in front of, that were driving her crazy. Rumor, innuendo, public opinion—if those things weren't amorphous enough—now the specter of a lethal killer inside her lover's body stalked her waking and sleeping moments.

"Jesus, Cameron, you're shaking all over." Passion gave way to concern, and Blair pulled away a fraction.

"No," Cam protested. "Please, don't go."

"Oh, darling," Blair soothed, stroking Cam's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere." She reached behind her and found Cam's hand, folding tightly as she stepped back another pace. "Come into the bedroom. I need to hold you. I need you to hold me."

Mutely, Cam followed, needing only the touch of this one woman's hand to center her universe.

Standing in a shaft of sunlight by the side of the bed, they undressed slowly, no urgency now, only peace. Blair pulled back the sheet, slipped beneath, and held it open for her lover to join her. Facing each other, bodies lightly touching, they kissed again. A soft sigh, a quiet moan, the thunder of two hearts beating as one drifted on the air. Hot skin, tight muscles, and the wonder of passion made flesh united heart and soul. Devotion, desire, the sweet ache of need shimmered as blue eyes met gray.

"Touch me," .Blair whispered against Cam's lips, smoothing her fingers down Cam's abdomen and between her legs. She waited until Cam mirrored her before gliding her fingers through the waiting warmth, pausing for a heartbeat as Cam's hips lifted into her palm. The answering brush of Cam's hand over her clitoris nearly made her come, and she clung to sanity with a thread. "Fill me now...as much as you can."

Dizzy with the scent and sensation of Blair's arousal, Cam slipped inside as Blair echoed the movement. Instantly, her orgasm surged, and she stiffened, struggling to stem the tide of pleasure already loosed. When Blair withdrew and then pushed deeper, she couldn't hold on. Shuddering beneath the onslaught rising from her depths, Cam felt Blair pulse around her fingers. Her lover's cry of release triggered another peak and she buried her face in the curve of Blair's neck, sobbing softly.

Still coming, Blair gripped Cam tightly, stroking her face fitfully as she gasped, "I love you. I will always love you."

When her vision cleared and her breath returned, Cam settled onto her back and pulled Blair into her arms. "Can you tell that you're all I need?"

"Yes." Blair rested her cheek on Cam's breast. The ridge of scar tissue, harder than the soft skin surrounding it, reminded her of how it felt to nearly lose the woman she loved. She ached to think that Cam would ever experience that terrible pain because of her There was no answer for that, no protection against it, no promise or guarantee that she could make that might not be a lie. There was only this moment and the hope of those to come. "While I live, you will always have my heart."

"And you mine," Cam whispered, "as long as I live." The phone rang, shattering the stillness, but not the calm that suffused their souls.

Blair reached behind her for the receiver, and returning her eyes to Cam's, said steadily, "This is Blair Powell."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

1000 27 August 2001

B lair spoke only a few words, listening with no change in her expression, as Cam, breath held, searched her lover's eyes for the truth.

"Yes, thank you, I'll do that. No, I'll see someone here," Blair said quietly.

See someone here. The ache in Cam's chest exploded with greater force than when the bullet had torn through her. That day as she had lain bleeding on the sidewalk, staring at the bluest sky she'd ever seen, she'd had one brief instant of awareness that she was dying. But just before she'd gone down, she'd seen Blair dragged back inside the building out of harm's way. With that image in her mind, she'd had no fear and no pain. Her duty was done, and Blair was safe.

Now, all she felt was pain.

Struggling for calm, desperately searching for the reservoir of strength that had carried her through her father's death, her own near-death, and the loss of an agent under her command, Cam lay very still, afraid that if she moved at all Blair would feel her shaking.

"I'll let you know where I need my records sent. Thank you again. You've been wonderful." Blair pushed the off button and held the receiver against her chest. She met Cam's eyes, her pupils so wide her blue irises were nearly as dark as Cam's troubled gray ones. "I'm..." Blair's voice cracked and she swallowed. "I'm negative. I don't have the gene."

"Oh, good Christ." Cam closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, then reached for her lover. There was only an inch between them, but it was far more than she could bear. Still, she was mindful of Blair's recent surgery and as much as she wanted to hold her tightly, she contented herself with easing her palm over Blair's neck and down her back. "God, baby, I'm so happy."

Blair laughed unsteadily. "I can't believe it. I was so sure I'd be positive." She caught Cam's hand and held it tightly. "I was trying to convince myself that it would be okay if I had to have more surgery."

"It would be okay." Cam kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. With her fingers gently caressing Blair's face, she murmured, "No matter what, it would be all right. But I'm just so damn glad you don't need it."

"She'll send my test reports to my gynecologist, and I'll just go back for my regular twice-yearly checkups." Blair kissed Cam, long and deep. When she pulled away, her eyes were hazy with love and desire. "It's over, darling. It's really over."

"Yes." Cam leaned up and guided Blair onto her back. Very carefully, Cam leaned down and kissed the inside of Blair's left breast, just opposite the biopsy site. Then she raised her head and kissed Blair's mouth. "I love you."

With a hand cupped behind Cam's neck, Blair drew her lover back down to her other breast. As she felt Cam's lips enclose her nipple, she murmured, "Love me again."

1015 28Aug01

Miami Beach, Florida

Report - Strike Team Two. Pilot confirms purchase of one-way ticket at United Airlines ticket counter without incident. Cost $1600.00. UA Flight 175 to Los Angeles.

2230 30 August 2001

"Here," Cam said abruptly, "don't lift that. I'll get it."

"Cameron," Blair said irritably, "it's a painting. It's not heavy."

"Why don't I get it," Diane said smoothly, reaching between the two women to pick up the four-by-five-foot bubble-wrapped canvas. She smiled benignly at Cam and shooed away Blair, who was flushed and sweaty, with an impatient motion. "Why don't you two sit down somewhere and have a drink while I supervise loading the rest of these."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing it." Blair was tired and cranky and unreasonably anxious about the upcoming show. She'd been working nonstop for three days on too little sleep and too much caffeine, and her nerves were frayed. It didn't help that Cam was uncharacteristically edgy as well. It especially didn't help that they'd had little time alone together, and when they had, they were both prickly.

"Of course you are. Wonderfully capable—but they're mine now, and I'll see to them." Ignoring Blair's snarl, Diane pointed to a stack of similarly wrapped paintings against the wall when her gallery assistant and another employee arrived, escorted by Paula Stark. "Jamie, these are the ones that are going. Make sure to take them directly into the storeroom. Do not leave them in the van unattended."

"You got it," the young woman replied good-naturedly. She nodded to Blair. "Good evening, Ms. Powell."

Blair raked a hand through her hair and smiled. "Hi, Jamie. How are you?"

"Terrific. Really looking forward to your show." Jamie directed the young man with her toward the canvases. "Take the smaller ones last, Dick. Thanks."

Within a matter of minutes, the paintings, the culmination of a year's work, were gone. As Diane waved goodbye, Blair surveyed the nearly empty studio with a conflicting mixture of trepidation and anticipation. Some critical part of her soul was about to be exposed, and she could no longer protect, defend, or explain that part of herself. Her art would have to speak for itself. Why am I doing this? I'd be just as happy painting even if my canvases never left this room. For one insane moment, she wanted to follow Diane out to the elevator and tell her to bring the paintings back.

"You okay?"

"No," Blair snapped, jerking around to face Cam. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I don't even want to do this." She saw the surprise in Cam's face at the heat in her voice, and the fire instantly left her eyes. She leaned her hips against the back of the sofa and shook her head. "God, I'm being a bitch. Sorry."

"It's all right," Cam said as she walked over to her lover. "This last week has been hell."

Blair ran her fingers along the edge of Cam's silk lapels, then smoothed her palms over Cam's chest beneath the jacket. Her hand brushed the leather strap that crossed Cam's left breast to the weapon harness snugged beneath her arm. "It hasn't been a picnic for you either." She fingered the leather as she rested her forehead against Cam's shoulder and closed her eyes. "I thought after the news that I'm BRCA-negative I'd feel better, but I'm still all churned up inside."

Cam softly caressed Blair's neck before kneading the tight muscles in her shoulders. "It has to have brought up a lot of painful memories for you. That, and the surgery, and the pressure to get things ready for the show—no wonder you're a bit..." She stopped, searching for an appropriate word.

"Bitchy?" Blair suggested with a faint laugh.

"Well, that might be one term for it." Cam grinned.

"Okay, fair enough. But what about you?" Blair tapped Cam's chin with a fingertip. "What's bugging you?"

"Me?"

"Yes, Cameron. You. You're never restless, but every time you're up here you've been wearing a path in front of my windows."

"Uh," Cam flushed.

"What?"

"I'm nervous about this weekend."

Blair blinked. "Why?"

"Blair." Cam shook her head in fond exasperation. "I'm about to spend the weekend with my lover in the company of her father. For the first time. And oh, by the way-—her father happens to be the president of the United States. Don't you think that entitles me to be a little bit nervous?"

Delighted, Blair laughed. "I can't believe it. That is so cute."

"Cut it out," Cam growled just before she dipped her head and unceremoniously bit Blair's neck.

Blair arched her head back. "Mmm, now that's more like it."

"Well, since we're leaving in a few hours, that's about all we're going to have time for."

"Yes," Blair murmured, "but now that I don't have to worry about my health or my work, I can concentrate on what I've been missing." Deftly, she opened the top two buttons on Cam's shirt and slid her hand inside. Fingers drifting over the top of Cam's breast, she noted in a husky voice, "And that, Commander, would be you."

Cam slapped her palm down over Blair's hand, pinning it to her chest. "I have absolutely no intention of having sex with you if your father is anywhere in the vicinity."

"Well,'" Blair danced her fingers lower to stroke Cam's nipple, purring faintly when she felt it hardening beneath her touch, "it's a big compound."

Gasping, Cam protested, "Not big enough."

"So you say."

0700 2 September 2001

Naked, Cam rested her butt against the sink in the spacious bathroom and watched Blair towel dry. She noted with satisfaction that her lover's breast was barely swollen now. "How's it feel?"

"Itchy. I wish the rest of the goddamn stitches would fall out."

"You're a terrible patient."

Blair cocked an eyebrow. "Look who's talking. As I recall, you had second-degree burns on your entire arm and shoulder and—"

Cam held up both hands in surrender. "Okay. Okay. You win." Laughing, she took a step closer and cupped her palm beneath Blair's breast, lifting it gently to peer at the suture line. "It looks really good. Just a faint line. Do you think I should—"

"Darling," Blair interrupted quietly. "That's my breast you're holding up for inspection."

"Is it?" Cam inquired, raising her head. The corner of her mouth lifted. "I hadn't noticed that."

Blair tightened inside as her nipple tightened beneath Cam's thumb. "My father and six Secret Service agents are waiting for us to go jogging. I'm not going to be able to do that if I get any more aroused."

"Oops." Eyes twinkling, Cam lowered her head and kissed Blair's nipple. At her lover's swift gasp, she chuckled and stepped out of reach before Blair could do damage. "I'd better get dressed."

"You'd better, because I don't care if the Joint Chiefs of Staff are on the other side of that bedroom door, I'm not waiting much longer."

Cam grabbed for the shorts, T-shirt, and jog bra that lay on the counter and retreated to the other side of the bedroom, pulling on clothes as she moved. Since their arrival, they'd spent most of their time in the president's company. He still worked for part of each day, but they'd taken their meals with him, worked out with him in the mornings, and spent the evenings together relaxing in the entertainment center. Although she and Blair shared a bedroom and a bed, they hadn't made love in the two nights they'd been at Camp David. In truth, both of them had been emotionally and physically exhausted, and it had been enough just to hold each other safe while they slept.

"Tell me you 're not ready," Blair said as she sat on the side of the bed to lace her running shoes.

There were some things that Cam would not tease about. She knelt by Blair's side and rested her hand on Blair's bare thigh. Her expression completely serious, she said softly, "I missed you so much this week. Holding you at night has been so good."

"Cam—"

"But," Cam interrupted gently, tracing her fingertips lightly up and down Blair's leg, "I'm about ready to burst."

Blair's brilliant smile flashed. "Oh, good. That's fine, then." She leaned down and kissed Cam swiftly on the mouth, then sidestepped her kneeling lover and rose agilely to her feet. "Come on, darling. Let's not keep the president waiting."

Laughing, Cam followed her lover from the guest room and down the hall toward the main living area. As she did automatically several times a day, she mentally reviewed Blair's upcoming itinerary. The president's daughter had no trips scheduled for two months, and the gallery showing was her only public outing for several weeks. That meant they were facing a relatively quiet period. Thank God. We all need a bit of a break.

"Good morning," the president called heartily. "You two ready to go?"

"Yes sir," Cam replied, falling into step beside the president on the sidewalk in front of the compound. Blair dropped back a pace to run beside Deborah Kling, the only female agent on her father's first team and an old friend of Blair's.

As the group moved off onto a dirt path that led into the woods surrounding the compound, the president asked, "What are your long-term plans, Cam?"

"Sir?"

"Are you a career agent, or are you considering moving into the private sector at some point in the future?"

"I haven't really given it much thought, sir," Cam replied, glancing swiftly over her shoulder in Blair's direction. Her lover's attention was on something the Secret Service agent beside her was saying. "For the duration, sir, I don't plan on making any changes."

"I take that to mean the duration of my tenure?"

Cam nodded.

"Very diplomatic of you not to stipulate a time frame on that."

"I have every confidence that you will be reelected-—"

Laughing, Andrew Powell interrupted. "We'll worry about that when we need to. I don't imagine, however, that Blair will want you to continue any longer than necessary in this particular line of work."

His tone was entirely conversational, and Cam didn't get the impression that he was probing for anything personal regarding her lover. Nevertheless, she replied neutrally, "We haven't talked about it, but she's sacrificed enough for the public welfare. I won't ask her to do it indefinitely."

"You mean she's sacrificed for my career, don't you?"

"Sir." Cam flushed. "I certainly meant no disresp—"

"It's Andrew, remember? And I know you didn't, Cam. And you need never apologize to me for loving my daughter."

Cam turned her head and met the president's gaze steadily. "I never would, sir."

The president grinned, and for an instant, he looked much younger. "I'm very glad you came this weekend, Cam."

"Yes, sir. So am I."

1100 02Sep01

Report - Strike Team Three. Departure confirmed: Washington Dulles International Airport. American Airlines Flight 77. Destination: Los Angeles. Target: Washington/DC. Tickets purchased, Internet credit card sale. Team en route by automobile to Silver Spring, Maryland.

Back in their room, Blair stripped out of her T-shirt and shorts. She reached for her bra and winced.

Instantly by her side, Cam asked, "Did you pull something?"

"No, it's all right," Blair said gently. "I think that problem stitch just got snagged."

Carefully, Cam eased the garment away from Blair's breast and drew it up over her head. After dropping the garment onto the bed, she turned her attention back to the incision. "Seems okay."

"I don't know," Blair mused. "I think you might need to kiss it and make it better."

"How much time do we have?"

"Time enough."

Cam pushed down her running shorts and kicked them off, then pulled her T-shirt and bra off in one motion. "Shower?"

Blair stepped close to her, the tips of her breasts just brushing Cam's. Her nipples hardened instantly but there was no pain, only the heavy ache of desire. "That sounds like a very good place to start."

The water, just barely warm, was cool against Blair's overheated skin. She rested her shoulders against the slick tile and looked down at Cam, who knelt between her spread thighs. Steadying herself with the palm of her left hand against the wall, Blair teased the wet black strands of her lover's hair through her fingers while anticipation coalesced like a clenched hand in the pit of her stomach. Lids nearly closed, she arched her neck, choking on a groan as Cam's teeth tugged at the gold ring piercing her navel. Cam's face swam before her eyes, her vision blurring with the rush of desire bursting inside her head.

"Put your lips on me," Blair whispered, but her words were lost in the rush of water beating down around them. She tensed as Cam's fingers spread wide on the inside of her legs, opening her. "Please...suck me." But the plea faded on a sob as her breath fled. She lifted her hips and tightened her grip in Cam's hair, sliding her sex urgently against her lover's cheek. "Oh God, I need your mouth." But Cam only turned her head away and licked the soft skin high on the inside of Blair's trembling thigh.

The ache inside verged on pain, and when the muscles in her stomach spasmed, jerking her forward, nearly bending her double, Blair gave a desperate cry. She drove both hands into Cam's hair and pulled Cam's face to her, forcing her lover's mouth against her clitoris. "Please...baby, please."

Cam wrapped one arm around Blair's thighs and took her the way she needed to be taken, using her tongue and her teeth and her lips to fire the blood and ignite the nerve endings that throbbed with wild desperation beneath her mouth. She felt Blair's legs tighten and her clitoris swell and knew she was coming. Only then did she push her fingers inside, driving her to a second climax before the first had peaked. When Blair moaned and began to sag down the wall, Cam rose, her hand still deep within, and pulled Blair against her body, preventing her from falling.

"Hold me, hold me," Blair sobbed into Cam's neck.

"I will never let you go," Cam whispered fiercely. Believing, Blair surrendered to her lover's tender care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

0600 05Sep01

Report: Strike Team Four. Departure confirmed: United Airlines Flight 93 from Newark. Destination: San Francisco. Target: Washington, DC. Tickets purchased at Baltimore/ Washington International Airport, cash transaction.

0700 06Sep01

Alone in an austere office in his rustic mountain compound, General Matheson logged on to the Internet and brought up a site featuring classic cars. He scrolled through the menus to a page displaying a '57 Mercury Cruiser and moved his cursor over the image until he found an html link, which he clicked to open.

Final communique. Four teams assembled and dispatched: East Coast targets 1-4 only. Teams five and six currently deactivated. Date confirmed: 0900 HSept2001. Glory to the righteous.

Matheson grunted and shrugged away a flicker of apprehension. There was no turning back now, even had he wanted to. These men were zealots and would not be deterred. They would strike, and he and his compatriots would take advantage of the shock and chaos to make their own voices heard. There had never been a better time for the Patriot mission than the present. With certain determination he reached for his cell phone and punched in a familiar number. The call was answered at once.

"Hello, Agent," Matheson said quietly. "You are green-lighted. Your team will assemble tomorrow."

"Operation confirmed?"

"0900.9-11."

"Very well." A few seconds of silence ensued. "I will assume command of the strike team. It's best if we terminate further communications.'"

Matheson hesitated, considering his options and the likelihood of repercussions if any part of the mission failed. It was imperative that he protect his organization to ensure the future of the freedom movement. "Agreed. Good luck and Godspeed."

0515 7 September 2001

Cam jerked fully awake at the first ring of the phone. She pulled her cell off the bedside table and sat up, opening the phone with one hand and flipping the covers back with the other. Her feet touched the floor and she stood, saying succinctly, "Roberts."

A second later, she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "No problem, Tom. What can I do for you?... Jesus, you're kidding...No, I understand...What do you want from my end?"

Listening intently, she made a mental list of things she needed to do. "Right. I'll take care of it." She laughed. "No, they certainly don't make it easy."

Terminating the call, she checked the clock. She had enough time to get in a run before the morning briefing. She was tired; she never slept well when she didn't sleep with Blair. And Blair had a busy weekend coming up, which meant more work for the team and more worry for her. She thought about the surprise call she'd just received from Washington and shook her head. More complications she didn't need.

"Christ. What a job."

0700 7 September 2001

"Good morning, everyone," Cam said briskly as she walked to the head of the table. "The itinerary for the weekend remains unchanged. Tonight at 2000 hours, Egret has the private opening at the Bleeker Gallery. Tomorrow evening at 2100 hours, the general showing. There will, however, be a change in the shift assignments for this evening. Please see Mac at 0900 hours for further details."

Mac straightened nearly imperceptibly, but his expression remained neutral. He hadn't been advised of any changes.

"In addition to the personal guest list, Egret has agreed to Ms. Bleeker's request that a small number of art dealers also attend the pre-show this evening." It wasn't unusual for dealers who represented wealthy clients or large consortiums to be allowed to preview the works before the gallery opened a show for general viewing. She looked at Mac. "Do you have those background checks completed?"

"I ran those," Cynthia Parker responded. She passed out information packets to each agent. "Bios and photos. Nothing tipped a flag."

"Good," Cam replied, flipping the folder open. She'd seen the list of names and had recognized two whom she'd met at her mother's shows over the years. "Just make certain you are all familiar with the—" she paused, staring at one image, "uh...the photographs of the dealers." Jesus Christ. The name below the photo read Valerie Ross. Carefully, she pressed her fingertips to the desktop to still the faint trembling. "Everyone else on the guest list should already be familiar to you."

Cam completed the rest of the briefing on autopilot and, when she'd finished, said quietly to Mac, "Wait a minute, will you, Mac?"

"Certainly, Commander."

Once they were alone, Cam pulled out the chair at the head of the table and settled into it, working not to allow her weariness to show. "I need you to rearrange the shift assignments for this evening. We need the entire team deployed."

"The whole team, Commander?"

"Yes." She rubbed at the headache beginning to form between her eyes. "Bring up the schematics of the area for a two-block radius, would you."

Without another word, Mac plugged a video cable into his laptop and clicked an icon on the desktop. A detailed street map appeared on the wall screen at the opposite end of the conference room. Cam got up and walked to it, pulling a slim laser pointer from her inside breast pocket. "Call Captain Landers and inform her that we'll need vehicular and foot patrols here, here, and...here."

"Got it," he replied, although he didn't actually understand the order at all. Captain Stacy Landers was the NYPD security liaison with Egret's team, but local law enforcement was usually only deployed for large-scale public outings.

"Now let me see the gallery building, street level."

A second passed, and then a blueprint of the building that housed the Bieeker Gallery appeared. Front, rear, and side entrances were denoted by red semicircles with the distance in feet to the nearest street or alleyway marked in bright yellow numerals. On the interior of the structure, the rooms and hallways, as well as the heating ducts and gas, water, and electrical conduits, were all marked in distinguishing colors. "Put two people each here, here, and here," Cam instructed, again pinpointing the areas with the tiny bright red laser dot.

"That will leave us thin on Egret herself," Mac noted neutrally.

"Thinner than I'd like," Cam agreed. "Put Stark inside the gallery with me. You take the main entrance. That should be fine."

"Commander? Is there a problem I should be aware of regarding tonight's itinerary?"

"No, Mac. No problem." At least I hope not—and nothing that I can tell you about now.

Mac nodded, keeping his questions to himself. He trusted her implicitly, and even if he hadn't, he would have followed orders. Still, at times like this, it helped immeasurably that she had the total confidence of every one of her agents. "I'll see to it."

"Thank you." Cam breathed in slowly and let the air out on a sigh. Then she walked back to the head of the table. "There's one more thing."

Her second in command regarded her steadily.

"One of the art dealers," Cam said as she reached for the file Cynthia Parker had prepared, "Valerie Ross. I need everything there is on her, and I need it this morning."

"The background check is in there, Commander." Mac regarded Cam quizzically. "It's extensive."

Familiar with the standard checks, Cam nodded. "I want a deep-level check."

"Finances, database scans, photo runs?"

"Yes," Cam said quietly, opening the file and sliding it across the table to Mac. "Everything."

Mac looked down at the file. "Jesus," he said with uncharacteristic lack of restraint. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." Cam stared at the photo. "But we have to find out."

"Hi," Blair said, smiling, as she opened the door to her lover.

Cam smiled back, but her eyes were solemn, "You're all ready," she remarked, taking in the gym bag by the door and Blair's outfit, which consisted of a T-shirt, sweatpants, and gym shoes.

"And you're not. Aren't you coming?" Blair kept her tone light, but inwardly she was already preparing herself for disappointment. Cam was her lover, but this weekend, she was much more her security chief. After more than a decade of living with close security, Blair knew how much planning needed to be done in preparation for a public event like the gathering that evening. And she knew that Cam would oversee every detail personally.

"I'm definitely coming," Cam said reassuringly. "I left my gear downstairs in the locker room. But something's come up that I need to talk to you about first."

"All right." Blair took Cam's hand and led her to the breakfast bar. She eased a hip up onto one of the tall stools and waited for Cam to take a seat facing her. "What's going on, darling?"

"I'm not even sure I should be bringing this up now—hell, or at all." Cam shook her head, disgusted at her own indecisiveness. "I've just spent the last forty minutes trying to make up my mind. Then it finally occurred to me that if I didn't discuss it with you, you might be pissed."

"Cameron," Blair said firmly. "Just tell me."

"One of the art dealers who Diane invited to the pre-opening show tonight is Claire."

"Claire. "Blair's brows furrowed, the name meaning nothing to her. But she couldn't ever remember seeing Cam so uncomfortable. Angry, worried—even, on rare occasions, frightened. But never quite like this. Suddenly Blair stiffened, knowing with the sixth sense of a lioness whose territory was about to be invaded precisely to whom her lover referred. In a dangerously calm tone, Blair repeated, "Claire. Your Claire—of the beautiful face and the elegant body and the oh-so-sophisticated demeanor. That Claire."

"She's not my Claire," Cam pointed out. "And—"

"I notice that you didn't disagree with the rest of my assessment," Blair interjected conversationally, but her eyes glinted like shards of glass in the sunlight.

For a moment, Cam couldn't follow the direction of the discussion, and then she laughed. Not the wisest thing to do, but she couldn't help herself. "You're kidding! You can't actually think I'd look at any other woman in the world when I have you."

"You've done a hell of a lot more than look at her." Blair couldn't even think about Cam being with another woman, let alone acknowledge that she'd been with someone so obviously beautiful and undoubtedly accomplished. In everything. It made her want to hurl breakable objects.

"That was before you," Cam said gently. "Now, there's only you, and there will only ever be you."

Blair blinked. "I hate it when you do that."

"What?"

"Make me forget why I'm mad at you."

Cam stood and stepped between Blair's legs, resting both hands on her lover's waist. She kissed her lightly on the mouth and grinned. "I love you."

Blair bumped her head against Cam's chest. "You'd better, because I swear to God, I won't be accountable for my actions otherwise."

Laughing quietly, Cam eased an arm around Blair's shoulder and leaned against the counter with Blair resting along the curve of her body. "Believe me, you have nothing to worry about."

"So what's going on?" Blair regarded Cam curiously. "With Claire?"

"Apparently, she's not Claire. Well, she is, or at least was, but she's also Valerie Ross."

"An alias?"

"Nope." Cam gently massaged the muscles in Blair's shoulders. "According to our records check, she really is Valerie Ross."

"And is she really an art dealer?"

Cam nodded. "Apparently so."

"Well. She is quite the mystery woman." Blair hooked her fingers over Cam's belt and beneath the waistband of her trousers, rubbing the back of her hand over Cam's stomach. "High-class Washington call girl, high-rolling art dealer, and drop-dead gorgeous femme fatale, I'm going to have to hurt her."

"We can't find anything to suggest she's a threat," Cam replied quietly, "but I can have Diane try to reach her and rescind the invitation. Or I can have Mac stop her at the door."

"Why?" Blair's tone was curious. Unconsciously, she pulled the tail of Cam's shirt loose so she could touch her palm to skin.

"Because this is a special night for you, and I don't want anything to spoil it."

Blair leaned away far enough so that she could meet her lover's eyes. "You'd do that?"

A look of confusion crossed Cam's face. "Of course."

"I don't mind if she comes." Blair thought of the few brief moments late one night standing beneath a streetlight with Cam's lover, if that's what Claire—Valerie—truly had been. She remembered a beautiful woman with deep sadness in her eyes. She'd recognized the sadness born of loneliness because she'd felt it so often herself. "She probably doesn't even realize we'll be there. Often, when the gallery has a private showing for a few select dealers before the opening, the artist isn't present. Besides, if she's got a client who's interested, she couldn't turn down the invitation. It's bad for business."

Surprised, Cam shrugged. "I'm not interested in her reasons. I'm only interested in what's best for you."

"It's fine, darling." Blair stood and put her free arm around Cam's neck while smoothing her palm up and down Cam's abdomen. She leaned hard into Cam with her thighs and pelvis, rolling her hips subtly. "Now, are you coming to the gym with me to spar?"

"Blair," Cam whispered, her voice husky. "It will hardly be a fair match if I'm too swollen to walk."

Blair chuckled. "All's fair in love and war, Commander."

1445 07Sep01

Five men crowded around a glass-topped dining-room table in a four-room condominium overlooking Central Park. None of them noticed the view. A blueprint was spread out in the center of the table, and several of the men held down the corners with their hands., ,

"The layout is simple," the brown-haired strike team leader said, punctuating his words with a finger tapping on the surface of the diagram. "Front and rear entrances, here and here."

"Guarded?" a gravelly voiced, heavyset man asked.

With an irritated flicker of his eyes at the interruption, the leader replied, "Not the rear, no. Routinely, there is a man posted only in the front lobby. The second elevator to the penthouse"—he pointed—"is keyed, but the common one to the rest of the building is not. The penthouse elevator can be called from the lobby, the command center-—here, or from the penthouse floor."

"So," a sandy-haired, fresh-faced younger man commented, "we have two possible routes of access: from the lobby with a frontal assault, or, if that fails, from a flanking maneuver on the upper floors."

"Exactly." The team leader pointed to the rear entrance. "And this is the only exit other than through the lobby. It's easy to secure, and with all the rest of the confusion, if we move quickly, we should be out before anyone knows what's happened."

"Let's run through it then," the heavyset man suggested impatiently. "We've only got three days."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

1523 7 September 2001

" L et me see that in the light," Blair said, reaching for Cam's chin.

"It's nothing," Cam said quickly, drawing her head away. The movement sent a hot stabbing pain into the base of her skull. She barely managed not to wince.

"Damn it, Cameron, it's not nothing. I can see the bruise from here." Blair stepped between Cam and the single bench in the center of the room, effectively preventing her from moving anywhere in the tiny women's changing area-—too small to be called a locker room—in the far corner of the hard-core gym where she had kickboxed for almost two years. "What happened? You completely missed the block."

"Timing was off."

"Your timing is never off."

Cam worked her jaw back and forth experimentally. It hurt, but her teeth came together normally and everything seemed stable. "It's not broken. It'll be okay after a little ice."

Blair regarded Cam with a mixture of anger and concern, "And you've never missed that block before. Are you still upset about Claire?"

Cam's brows rose. "No. I wasn't even thinking about her."

"Then what were you thinking about?" Blair snapped. "Because it sure wasn't sparring. All you had to do to counter that kick was step into my body and take me..." Her eyes widened. Step into my body and take me down. Into my body. Into my breast.

Blair thumped her palm into the center of Cam's chest and backed her against the three rickety metal lockers, her face an inch from her lover's, her voice low, controlled, and filled with fury, "God damn it, I could've broken your neck, not just your jaw. If you didn't want to spar with me because you were worried about hurting me, you should've told me."

"It wasn't intentional," Cam said quietly. "I just hesitated when I realized where you'd take the hit."