by Radclyffe
Set up a command post and monitor any and all transmissions in or out of this area.”
“With respect, Commander, I think I’ll be of more use out here. Maybe you should take the inside—”
“No,” Cam snapped. “He’s got partners somewhere. He wouldn’t walk into this if he didn’t have someone on the outside waiting to help him disappear. The more we know, the more we limit his options. I don’t want him to think he’s in charge.”
“Right. Okay.” Mac looked uncomfortable. “Are you going to call for backup?”
Cam shook her head. “We have all the people we need right here, and I know just how good they are. We bring in hostage rescue or a spec ops team and we’ll have chaos. I’m not putting him under that kind of pressure. Not with our people inside that cabin with him.” Not with his gun on Blair.
When Mac looked like he would say more, Cam cut him off. She knew she’d probably lose her creds over the decision. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting Blair and the others out. “What’s Valerie and Renee’s ETA?”
“They should be landing right about now.”
“Good. Go ahead and brief them, then I want to see them both.” Cam scanned the area, checking to be sure she had people in appropriate vantage points. “Double-check that everyone has radios and put them on delta frequency. Then get back to the lodge, Mac.” She tore her eyes from the cabin and met his. “That’s where I need you. I need to know what he’s doing. I’m blind out here.”
“Yes ma’am.” Mac crouched, ready to move away, but still he hesitated. “I’ll send a vest and a dry shirt down for you.”
“I’m okay.”
“You might be out here for a while.”
Wordlessly, Cam nodded. She would be here until Blair was safe. Time was immaterial.
Emory had heard gunfire before. The first shot had brought her upright in bed as she struggled to make sense of the sound. She knew what it was but her conscious mind refused to embrace the idea. The second and third reports had followed closely on the first, and instinctively she’d rolled out of bed onto the floor, no longer able to deny the reality. The eerie silence that followed was more unnerving than the gunfire. Staying low, out of sight of the bedroom window, she quickly grabbed her clothes and jumped into the bathroom. Hastily, hands shaking, she pulled on jeans, a sweater, and boots. When she dared to peek out the window she saw armed figures moving at the edge of the woods, but she couldn’t make out who they were. Heart hammering, she dashed into the main room and snatched her jacket and cell phone. She wished she had a gun. After the first attack on her life, she’d gotten a license and learned to shoot but she refused to carry a weapon. Despite the threats made against her, she did not want to answer violence and hatred with more violence. She wondered now if she had been wrong.
She knew she was safer inside the cabin than outside, and she knew that someone would come. Crouched on the floor behind the sofa, she hoped it would provide enough cover from an errant bullet. Waiting was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
When a sharp knock on the door was followed almost immediately by a voice calling, “Emory, it’s Steph. Let me in,” Emory jumped to her feet.
“What happened?” Emory asked anxiously as she held the door open just wide enough for Steph to slip inside.
“There’s been an incident at Blair’s. I need to get you and the others up to the lodge.”
Emory grabbed Steph’s arm. “What do you mean by incident? Is she hurt?”
A muscle in Steph’s jaw bunched. “It’s a hostage situation, Emory. I don’t have much time. Let’s go.”
“Oh my God. Dana. Dana was supposed to meet with Blair. Is she there?”
“We’re not sure who’s in there.”
Stunned, Emory glanced in the direction of the bedroom. Was it possible that less than an hour ago she and Dana had lain together in that bed, making love, talking about the next time? What if there was no next time? What if Dana never came back? Emory couldn’t take it in.
Blood rushed from her head and her vision flickered. The room turned gray at the edges and she swayed. “This can’t be. She was just here. We made lo—”
Steph grabbed Emory’s arm to steady her. “Jesus, Emory. I didn’t know about you two. I’m sorry.”
“It’s…we’re…new.” Angry at herself for almost falling apart, Emory shook her head. She clenched her hands until her fingers ached. Better. “What can you tell me?”
“Until we get a head count up at the lodge, we won’t know for sure who’s with Blair. The perp said someone was unconscious. It might be Dana.”
“What’s going to happen?” Emory asked urgently as Steph opened the door and guided her outside with an arm around her and her gun at the ready. Now that they were outside, Emory could see agents shielded by boulders and trees ringing Blair’s cabin.
“We’re going to get this guy,” Steph said resolutely. “Trust us.”
Emory wasn’t used to relying on others to take care of what was important to her. And Dana was very important to her. “I know how to shoot. I practice at the range regularly. I can help.”
“You’ve never shot a person.” Steph led Emory quickly up the path toward the lodge. “It’s a lot different than a paper target.”
“He’s hurt my friends. I won’t hesitate.”
Steph indicated the back door of the lodge. “You’re the only doctor we have. We might need you. See if you can put together an aid station.”
Emory watched Steph hurry away. It wasn’t enough. Caring for the wounded, no matter how necessary, was not going to assuage the terrible anger that roiled in her chest. But doing what she could do might keep her from imagining Dana hurt. Dana had to be all right. They had just begun—only hours before she had held her, loved her. Emory refused to believe she would never have another chance.
Matheson shoved Blair toward the sofa. “Sit down.” Blair hesitated. She wouldn’t have very many opportunities to get herself out of this, and she didn’t have much time. Stark lay slumped on the floor just inside the door. Blair couldn’t tell how many times she’d been hit, but a dark pool of blood spread out beneath her body from an obvious bullet wound in her left thigh. She appeared to be unconscious, but Blair wasn’t certain. Dana lay face down where she’d fallen after Matheson had clubbed her. Either one of them could be mortally injured, and she wasn’t going to stand by and watch them die.
As if reading her thoughts, Matheson said, “If you make a move anywhere except where I tell you to move, I’ll shoot one of them.”
“She needs attention,” Blair said, pointing to Stark. “At least let me see if I can slow down the bleeding.”
Matheson didn’t answer as he collected Stark’s gun, tucked it into the waistband at the small of his back, and sidled next to the front window. With his eyes and his gun still on Blair, he felt for the cord and yanked the drapes closed. Then he stepped over Stark and nudged Dana’s shoulder with his boot. When she didn’t respond, he shoved and she rolled onto her back with a groan. Matheson flicked a glance at Blair. “Who’s this?”
Blair said nothing, and Matheson kicked Dana in the ribs. Blair shot forward as Dana moaned. “Leave her alone.”
“I’d stop right there,” Matheson said coldly. He pointed the gun at Dana’s head. “One more step, and I won’t care who she is.”
“She’s a friend of mine.”
“She’s not carrying, so she’s not an agent.” Matheson motioned Blair back to the couch. “Sit down.”
Dana opened her eyes, blinked, and lifted her head enough to look around the room. Her expression darkened when she saw Stark. “Christ.” She pushed herself to her knees, coughed a few times, and finally focused on Matheson. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
He laughed. “Welcome to the party. Who the hell are you?”
“The name’s Barnett.” She glanced at Blair. “I guess he’s not a friend of yours.”
“Not exactly.”
“Letting a f
ederal agent die isn’t a very good idea.” Dana got slowly to her feet, swaying slightly. She pressed a hand to her rib cage. “How about I take a look at her?”
Matheson motioned with his gun toward Stark. “I want you over there anyhow. On the floor, next to her. If you want to put your hand over the hole in her leg, be my guest.”
Dana inched carefully in Stark’s direction, her eyes on Matheson.
Then she knelt and worked her pullover over her head, exposing the white T-shirt she wore underneath. Pressing the balled-up garment against Stark’s thigh, she said, “She’s bleeding at a pretty good clip. How about if I drag her out onto the porch so someone can get her to a medic.” She leveled her gaze at Matheson. “You can watch me through the doorway. If I try to run, you can shoot me.”
“Thanks for the permission. She stays.”
“I’m the one you want,” Blair said. “I’m all you need, and you know it. Let Dana take the agent outside. There’s no reason she has to die.”
“You might be crazy enough to try coming after me,” Matheson said to Blair. “But if you know I’m going to shoot one of your friends if you so much as sneeze wrong, you just might behave. They stay.”
Blair glanced at Dana. “I’m sorry about this.”
“I’m not.” Dana held pressure on Stark’s leg but kept her focus on Matheson. “Look, I’m an investigative reporter. You must have an important story to tell. Why don’t you tell me, starting with what you want.”
Matheson regarded her with interest. “You might be useful, but I’m not sure I’ll be here long enough to tell you the story.” He smiled and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “Ms. Powell and I are going for a ride to meet some of my friends.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Minutes, hours, the arbitrary measures of existence had no relevance for Cam. All that mattered to her was the woman inside the cabin. She, she was the touchstone, the focus, the foundation of Cam’s life. Until Blair was free, nothing affected her—not the cold, not hunger, not fatigue, not the pain in her bruised ribs or the cramps in her muscles from remaining motionless for so long. When she heard the crunch of footsteps on snow behind her, she didn’t turn. She kept her eyes and her weapon trained on the door that separated her from her world.
“Requesting permission to relieve Agent Hara,” Renee Savard said stiffly.
Cam glanced at her long enough to see that she carried an assault rifle. “Mac informed you we have a hostage situation?”
“Yes. He said you’d brief me on the details.” Renee stared at the cabin. “Egret. Is she injured?”
“Not so far.”
Renee drew a shuddering breath. “Mac said Paula was on duty.”
“Yes.”
“Do we know her status?”
“No.” Cam wanted to comfort her, but it wasn’t the time. For either of them. “But we think she’s injured.”
“Gunshot?”
“Probably.” Cam spared her another quick glance, taking in the pallor beneath her normally golden skin and her wildly dilated pupils. Her stress level was off the charts. “There’s a civilian inside too. Dana Barnett.”
“How long are we going to wait?”
“Not long,” Cam said grimly. “And I can’t afford to have an agent out here who I can’t trust to follow my orders.”
“I’m all right, Commander.”
“And if I tell you that Egret is your priority, your only priority?”
Renee gave a short, curt laugh. “Paula would kick my ass if I handled it any other way.”
“Take Hara’s place. Tell her she will lead the rear team and to check their positions. I want them as close as they can get.”
“Yes ma’am.” Renee pivoted, then stopped. “He doesn’t deserve to leave here alive.”
“I didn’t hear that. Take your post, Agent. Go.”
Silence fell. Sunlight glinted on the pure white snow and Cam blinked to clear her vision in the blinding glare. She agreed with Renee about Matheson’s fate, but she couldn’t give Renee permission to carry out an action that might later weigh heavily on her conscience—or at the very least end her career. Cam had no such concerns. Matheson had made it personal when he sent a team to assassinate Blair, and she would readily bear the responsibility for delivering justice.
Valerie leaned into the back of the lead Suburban and pulled out a flak vest. Mac had given her a thumbnail sketch of what had transpired when she, Renee, and Felicia arrived. She’d traveled from Manhattan in jeans and boots so all she’d needed to do was exchange her coat for a heavy black sweater she had packed in her luggage. She clipped her holster to her right hip and unlocked the ammunition compartment in the rear of the vehicle. She touched her com link. “Mac, have someone collect all the XM84s from the vehicles.”
“Roger.”
Straightening, she gripped her vest in one hand and a rifle in the other. When she turned, she found Diane, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, watching her. Despite her heavy, knee-length winter coat, Diane looked frozen. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
“I heard you were back.” Diane glanced down the slope toward the cabins. “I know you need… I imagine you… God, I can’t imagine what it is you need to do right now. I know it isn’t talking to me, but…”
Valerie quickly strode forward while shifting her rifle beneath the arm which held her vest, and pulled Diane against her. She kissed her, hard, almost desperately. Then she stepped back. “Mac told me you were all right and inside the lodge. I don’t have any time, darling. I need you to go back inside. I need you safe.”
“I love you,” Diane said urgently. “You understand me? I love you. Please, please be careful.”
“I love you too. I’ll be back as soon as we get our people out.” Valerie smiled softly. “Go back inside now. You’re cold.”
“I’ll see you in a little while,” Diane said, gripping Valerie’s hand. “I will see you.”
“Yes.” Valerie backed away, carefully securing Diane’s image in the private place deep inside that comforted her. Then she cleared her mind of love, of fear, of uncertainty, of anything that could distract or deter her, and went in search of Cam.
Cam made the call she knew had to be made.
“Lucinda Washburn.”
“Lucinda, it’s Cameron Roberts. You need to advise the president’s security detail to go to priority one immediately.”
“Why?”
“At oh seven thirty this morning Matheson killed an agent, shot another, entered Blair’s cabin, and took her hostage. I have no indication that this is a part of a larger operation, but we can’t discount it either.”
“Hold on.” After several seconds of silence, Lucinda returned. “A solitary gunman?”
“Yes.”
“What does he want?”
“I don’t know yet, but he clearly plans to negotiate for Blair’s freedom. I suspect he’ll want to talk to the president.”
“Is she hurt?”
“No,” Cam said gruffly, forcing the image of Matheson’s gun against Blair’s temple from her mind.
“I can have a strike team from—”
“No. I have teams in place. I don’t need more people. Right now he thinks he has the upper hand, and I want to keep it that way.”
“She’s the president’s daughter. We have to respond with force.”
“Don’t you think I know who she is?” Cam took a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. “You can’t send me anyone more qualified than the people I have here. We’re all trained for this. Just make sure that the president is protected.”
“I intend to. I want updates. I can’t promise you anything else right now. The president and his security adviser will have to be notified at the very least.”
“I can promise you this,” Cam said. “I’m not letting anyone jeopardize Blair’s safety.”
“That may not be your call to ma—”
Cam clicked off her phone and shoved it into her pants pocket.
<
br /> Stark clawed her way to awareness through a thick fog of pain. Her chest burned with every breath and her left leg screamed in agony. The bastard had shot her. Her heart couldn’t beat any faster, but a surge of sick apprehension washed through her. Blair. She groaned and tried to sit up. She managed to prop herself up a few inches.
“Stay still.”
Stark struggled to focus. Dana Barnett leaned over her, her mouth set in a grim line.
“Blair?”
“She’s okay,” Dana murmured.
Stark’s strength deserted her and she collapsed back to the floor. She tried to piece the fragments of images she could recall into a picture that made sense. A gunman had breached their line. Back door. She jerked at the realization that the gunman had to have taken out at least one agent. She groaned and struggled to rise again.
“Don’t,” Dana insisted. “Don’t give him a target.”
“What…what does he want?”
“Something I can do for you?” Matheson said from a few feet away.
“She wants to know what you want,” Dana said, keeping pressure on Stark’s leg as she looked over her shoulder at the man who stood equidistant between her and Blair. If they rushed him simultaneously, he would probably only be able to shoot one of them. However, she couldn’t be sure which one it would be, and she didn’t want to risk the first daughter being gunned down. She caught Blair’s eye and had a feeling Blair was thinking the same thing. “I told you I’m a reporter.” “I recognize your name now. You’re good.” “Then now is your chance to say what you want to say.” “First there’s a little business transaction that I have to take care of.” Matheson punched a number on his cell phone and waited a few seconds. “Phase One completed. I’ll await the call.”
He hung up, pocketed his phone, and leaned with his back against the stone fireplace, his gaze alternating between Dana and Blair. “Let me start by saying I’m a patriot.”
“Yes,” Dana said, careful to keep her tone neutral. “I can see that.”
“Cameron.” Valerie crouched down, her shoulder touching Cam’s. She rested her rifle against the boulder that provided them partial cover.