Price of Honor

by Radclyffe

  Blair caught her breath. Married. They were, as of just a few weeks before. She felt the ring on her finger that matched the one on Cam’s. Thought about the future, a future so very different from the one she’d imagined a year ago when she’d rarely considered the next day, let alone anything beyond. Her father wouldn’t be the president forever, and she wouldn’t be an object of public speculation or a potential target any longer. She could have a life like other people. They could have a life without danger around every turn.

  Cam would probably always have the kind of job she did now. She was driven to serve, driven to protect, but when the administration inevitably changed, she might actually spend more time behind her desk. She’d never completely leave the field, no matter what she said her intentions were. It just wasn’t part of her. But there might come a time when someone else really did take the risks. Blair tried to imagine how they would live and thought of the house they’d purchased on Whitley Island. Remote, wild, beautiful. Where they could be alone and she could paint and…

  She jolted at an unexpected, nearly frightening image.

  “What?” Cam murmured, kissing her again.

  “Just thinking.”

  “Thinking what?”

  Blair turned onto her back and found Cam leaning on an elbow regarding her with that serious look she got when she was waiting for Blair to decide to share a secret. Or not. “I was thinking it might be nice to have a child.”

  Cam’s pupils widened. “A baby, you mean.”

  “Maybe. Or a toddler. Or an older one.”

  “Adopt?”

  “I think so. There’s so many kids who need homes.” Blair pushed a dark lock from Cam’s forehead, searched the storm-gray eyes, and waited. Cam was an only child, they both were, and neither had had an easy childhood—losing parents far too soon. They’d barely begun their life together. Her timing was pretty terrible.

  “We have pretty busy schedules,” Cam said slowly, carefully.

  Blair laughed and kissed her. “I don’t mean right away.”

  The tension in Cam’s shoulders eased and her breath came out in a long sigh. “No? When then?”

  “I don’t know, four or five years. When our life is a little more normal.”

  “Adoption is fine with me,” Cam said. “You don’t want to be pregnant?”

  “I don’t feel any burning need to be. Do you?”

  “No. Never pictured it.”

  “What about children? Did you ever picture that?”

  “Blair.” Cam eased down on the pillow beside Blair and wrapped an arm around her. “I never thought about being married until you. Beyond that, no. But I’m thinking about it now.”

  “That’s good, then. There’s no rush.”

  “It’s a big deal. I know you know that. You might change your mind about wanting to carry a child by the time we’re ready to.”

  “If I do, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. Then we have a plan. We’ll revise as needed.”

  Laughing again, Blair slung a leg over Cam’s hips and pressed close. Their bodies joined effortlessly, naturally. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  Blair gave a little shove and Cam fell onto her back. Blair rolled onto her, sliding one leg between Cam’s. Smooth and hot skin kissed her wet, swollen flesh and she rocked, enjoying the rush of pleasure that filled her. She braced her arms on either side of Cam’s shoulders and worked herself in long teasing strokes to the edge. Cam cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples lightly, knowing the pleasure would push her even higher. Blair caught her lip between her teeth, felt the tension coil deep in her belly.

  “I am so going to come on you in about ten seconds.”

  “That’s right, baby,” Cam whispered. “You’re so hot.”

  Blair’s vision wavered, heat flooded her belly, and she arched her back. The orgasm started slow and then burst like sunlight, jolting along her spine. She gasped and cried out, her head falling forward, her hair draping Cam’s face in a golden veil.

  Cam caught her as she fell and pulled her close, reveling in her pleasure. “That was the best five minutes I’ve had in a long time.”

  Blair sighed and kissed her throat. “I’m not sure where that came from.”

  “Who cares, as long as there’s more,” Cam whispered.

  “If we don’t get up, we’ll be late.”

  “I suppose we can’t keep the White House waiting.” Cam stroked her back and squeezed her ass. “But I want the rest later.”

  Blair pushed herself up, still trembling. “Once we walk out the door, we might not be alone again for days.”

  Cam kissed her. “We’ll find time. Guaranteed.”

  Blair laughed. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

  *

  Jane called the last number she’d gotten for her brother. Her heart seemed to stop as it always did until he answered. Now more than ever, he was the one at risk, so close to those looking for her, maybe him too.

  “Hey. You all right?” Robbie said by way of greeting.

  “Yes. Is it still on?”

  “Yes, heading out tomorrow.”

  “And you’re going for sure?”

  “Front-row seat.” He laughed. “Well, not exactly. Probably four or five cars back, but close enough.”

  “And the itinerary?”

  “Just a preliminary, so far. I expect an update later. I know quite a few people aren’t happy about this little excursion.”

  “Just the usual super-paranoia?”

  “Well, given what’s happened here and then…out there, security is even tighter than usual.”

  What happened out there. They didn’t talk about their father anymore. He was gone. Now it was up to them. “What about Jenn?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The answer was a blade in her heart. “There must be something.”

  “I know someone who knows a guard, but there’s not much news. I think she’s still here, but if they move her I’ll have no way to get information.”

  “We’re not going to let that happen. She’s not going to disappear into some hole.”

  “You have a plan?”

  She did, at least the beginnings of one. She had to set her rage aside and think clearly. Revenge was a dangerous motivator. She’d been taught that. Sweet when accomplished, but dangerous when it clouded judgment. She wasn’t a martyr, and she wasn’t going to let Jenn or Robbie be martyrs either. “There are options. It might be better if you didn’t go.”

  “You need inside information.”

  “Yes, but that puts you—”

  “In danger,” he said sharply. “You mean like you and Jenn? You think I’ve been happy all these years sitting on my ass scribbling useless articles and ingratiating myself to hangers-on and ass-kissers and perverts?”

  “I know it’s easier to carry a gun, believe me. But we needed you there, and look what it’s accomplished for us.”

  “Yes. Jenn in a cell.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “I shouldn’t have trusted the mercenary quite so much.”

  “We’re going to have to trust him again. Is the number for him still good?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “I’ll be getting a new phone later today. I’ll text you the number.”

  “I’ll change mine too and let you know.”

  “Be careful, Robbie.”

  “You know, you’re the only one who ever calls me that. If it weren’t for you, I might not remember my name.” He sounded sad, lost for a moment.

  Jane pushed the sympathy away. “You know who you are. Don’t ever forget what we need to do.”

  “Right,” he said briskly. “Well, at least the train will make a nice change from Air Force One.”

  Jane laughed flatly. “And a nicer target.”

  Chapter Three

  Cam braced her arms against the shower wall as the hot water beat down against her back. She ached just abou
t everywhere, but nothing she hadn’t felt before and nothing that wouldn’t ease in a few days. She removed the bandage on her leg to let the water clean the tract where the wood splinter had sailed through her calf when part of the building where she’d been imprisoned had exploded. She was lucky. Skylar Dunbar was still in the hospital recovering from the bullet wound to her arm and from blood loss. Fortunately the early reports from the surgeon were that no major muscle or nerve damage had occurred and Skylar would not suffer long-term injury. Cam hadn’t known the agent very long, but spending twenty-four hours on the brink of death with someone taught you a lot. Dunbar was gutsy and tough, and Cam was glad she was going to be all right.

  She was still putting together all the pieces as to just what had happened out in Idaho where she and Dunbar had been abducted. Reports were still coming in from agents on the scene, but the one person Cam wanted to talk to had dropped out of sight. She wasn’t surprised. Loren McElroy had been undercover for years and was a valuable asset. She’d disappeared to preserve her cover. Cam had a number for her and had left a message. McElroy would call her, she was certain. In the meantime, she still had a prisoner who was one of the keys to the puzzle.

  Jennifer Pattee was connected to that militia compound, and Cam was close to verifying just how close that connection was. Thinking about the upcoming interrogation, she turned off the water and stepped out. Blair was leaning against the counter in a white terrycloth robe belted loosely at the waist, her wet blond hair tangled on her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes studying Cam. A small frown line creased the smooth skin between her golden brows.

  Cam grabbed a towel, being careful not to wince when the movement pulled at her sore rib cage. She wrapped it around her torso and grabbed another to towel her hair.

  “So how bad is it, and no bullshitting,” Blair said.

  “Stiff and sore.” Cam pushed a hand through her hair and dried off the rest of the way. “The leg feels better.”

  Blair motioned for Cam to put her injured leg up on a stepstool and picked up a roll of bandage. “It still looks really painful.”

  “I’ll admit I wouldn’t want to run very far,” Cam said as Blair wrapped the wound, “but I don’t expect I’ll have to.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Thanks. That feels better.”

  Blair straightened, kissed Cam, and turned to put the medical supplies back into the narrow closet in the corner of the bathroom. “Are you going right to the White House?”

  “No, I’m going to stop at the detention center first.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you for dinner, then.”

  Cam cradled Blair’s shoulders and pulled Blair against her. Wrapping her arms around Blair’s waist from behind, she kissed the side of her neck. “The countdown will probably run long. I don’t think we’ve gotten the final itinerary yet.”

  Blair laughed shortly and covered Cam’s hands with hers. “Why aren’t I surprised? You know Adam is always adding last-minute stops for Dad.”

  “I know. Eisley’s a real pain in the ass.”

  Blair rested her head back against Cam’s shoulder. “He is. But he’s really good at his job.”

  “I suppose. If you end up staying later, I’ll see you when you get home.”

  Blair turned and let her robe fall open, pressing naked against Cam. Her skin was warm, her body strong and supple.

  Cam groaned softly. “Come on.”

  Blair’s eyes flashed and she smiled a satisfied smile. “I want you to be thinking about me this afternoon.”

  “Like I wouldn’t be?”

  “Just making sure.”

  Cam clasped the back of Blair’s neck and kissed her, a long, serious kiss. “Mission accomplished.”

  Blair breathed heavily, her lips faintly parted. “Yeah. Me too.”

  Cam grinned and brushed a thumb over her chin. “See you later, baby.”

  “See you later, Commander.”

  *

  The building where Jennifer Pattee was being detained looked nothing like a prison. It was a square glass-and-steel structure like most of the federal buildings surrounding the Capitol. The upper floors were all administrative offices of midlevel attorneys, aides, and other justice employees. But the second basement level, accessible only by a key card that a select few people carried, was a different matter.

  The elevators opened on a ten-foot-square, tile-floored lobby directly across from a guard station. There were no chairs, no signs, no water coolers. The two uniformed officers sat in a well-lit glass cubicle scanning banks of monitors that displayed relays from the exterior and interior of the building as well as the four detention cells behind the adjacent steel doors.

  Cam presented her credentials and one of the officers keyed in the code to the doors. They swung open and Cam walked through. Only one of the cells, their interiors dim behind plain metal doors with rectangular windows, was occupied. She settled at the bare, brown laminate table in the small visitor’s room and waited for the guard to bring Jennifer Pattee in. Cam hadn’t seen her for almost a week. Her appearance was much the same as the last time. Her shoulder-length dark hair was clean, her heart-shaped face pale and faintly shadowed. Her eyes were still clear and angry and sharply intelligent. She sat across from Cam in her gray jumpsuit, her shoulders upright, her hands still cuffed in her lap.

  “Are you being taken care of adequately?” Cam asked.

  The former White House Medical Unit nurse smiled wryly. “I’m being fed and allowed to shower and given clean clothes. I wouldn’t mind a computer.”

  “Who would you contact?”

  “I like to surf the shopping sites and read the news.”

  “What about a phone call?”

  “Who would I call?” Jennifer echoed.

  “How about Augustus Graves?”

  For a fraction of a second, Jennifer tensed, and if Cam hadn’t been looking for it and hadn’t spent a large part of her career in investigations doing interrogations, she would’ve missed it.

  “Who would that be?” Jennifer asked.

  Her question implied she cared about the answer. She was usually too smart to engage in any conversation. “He was the leader of a militia group out in Idaho. I thought since you grew up there, you might’ve heard of him.”

  “I don’t know anything about Idaho,” Jennifer said.

  She was lying, of course. Cam was nearly 100 percent certain that Jennifer was related to the woman who’d taken Cam prisoner and undoubtedly would have killed her had she the opportunity. The two of them looked alike. She didn’t know how Augustus Graves fit into the picture, but she was certain they all knew each other.

  “In that case, you won’t be disturbed to learn that he’s dead.”

  This time Jennifer Pattee didn’t move. She’d probably already been mentally preparing herself for some kind of news once the name had been mentioned. She was very well trained, but the autonomic nervous system was something few people could control completely, if at all. Her pupils flickered rapidly. The news had triggered an adrenaline surge.

  “Let me tell you about him. It might ring a few bells.” Cam relaxed back in her seat. “Graves was an Idaho businessman who owned a large tract of land up in the Bitterroot Mountains. He built a compound on that land. A big one, big enough to house a few hundred people. A militia. Before it got blown up a couple nights ago, it appeared to have been pretty self-sufficient, with an infirmary and an armory and barracks. Pretty sophisticated stuff.”

  “I don’t know him,” Jennifer said flatly.

  “Interesting place,” Cam went on. “I ran into one of his senior…officers, I guess you could say. A woman. She reminded me of you. Looked a little like you too. I didn’t get her name, but maybe you know it?”

  The fingers of Jennifer’s right hand closed slowly, a small tell. “I don’t know any of these people. I don’t know anything about Idaho.”

  “You know,” Cam said slowly, “I said I didn’t know her name. That’s
not exactly true. I know the name she used when she worked at Eugen Corp. Angela Jones. The one who stole the virus that you were carrying when you were apprehended. Help your memory at all?”

  “I already told you. That was a mistake. I have no idea what the virus was for or why I was given it.”

  “Lots of coincidences. Are you interested in knowing what happened to her?”

  “No,” Jennifer said, no inflection in her voice. “As I said, I don’t know her.”

  Cam leaned forward, forcing Jennifer to look into her face. “You know her. She’s a cousin…no, closer than that. A sister. Don’t you want to know if she’s alive or dead?”

  Jennifer’s pupils were pinpoint. “No.”

  “She wanted you to be released. She wanted to trade me for you. She made a mistake when she did that. She brought the hammer down on that compound, because we don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  “Terrorists,” Jennifer exclaimed.

  “What would you call them?”

  “Patriots,” Jennifer snapped.

  “Yes, I suppose you would. Tell me, Jennifer, how patriotic is it to attempt to kill the president of the United States?”

  Jennifer’s lips pressed together. She’d made a mistake, speaking out.

  “She’s your sister,” Cam said with certainty. “And before too long, I’ll know exactly who both of you are. If you don’t want her killed, then help me find her before she does something else.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “All right. Not yet.” Cam stood. “But don’t wait too long.”

  Cam signaled to the guard to return her to her cell. Jennifer Pattee and Angela Jones hadn’t been alone in devising the thwarted attack on Andrew Powell. It’d taken a lot of money and significant inside help to pull it off. She didn’t know how close the other conspirators were to the president, but she couldn’t rule anyone out except those she trusted absolutely, and those numbers were few.

  Anytime the president was exposed, he was vulnerable. Now he insisted on kicking off his reelection campaign with a grassroots appeal to the heartland via a train ride, despite that being a security nightmare. But the Secret Service and Homeland Security were the best protective organizations in the world. Everyone would be ready when game day arrived.