Radclyffe - Honor 02 - Honor Bound

by Honor Bound (lit)

  Cam's stomach knotted, but she smoothed her hand gently over Blair's hair and pressed her lips to her forehead. "It isn't going to be anyone. We'll stop him. I need you to trust me, Blair."

  Blair said nothing, and Cam's heart pounded with sudden alarm. "Blair, please promise me that you won't do anything without discussing it with me. I need you to do that. Please."

  Blair leaned back in the circle of Cam's arms and studied her face. There was something close to panic in Cam's eyes. Blair had never seen her look that way before. "Cam-" she whispered, slipping her hand to the back of her neck, stroking her. "Hey."

  "I can't lose you," Cam rasped, her throat tight with the anguish, the edges of her mind still raw with old memories.

  Her haunted expression tore at Blair's heart. She sighed, and ran her fingers lightly over Cam's cheek. She could no more hurt her than she could stop loving her. "I promise. Just do something, please."

  Cam kissed her, a kiss of thanks and tender possession. When she lifted her lips away, she whispered, "I will."

  *

  Cameron walked into the conference room at Command Central and nodded to Patrick Doyle. As had become the custom, the FBI were lined up on one side of the table, and her team on the other. She and Doyle faced off once again from opposite ends.

  "We have to assume an action from Loverboy is imminent," Doyle said immediately, his preemptive attempt to take charge glaringly obvious.

  Unperturbed by his attitude, Cam nodded her agreement as she sat down. She'd played these interagency power games before. "What's the status at Diane Bleeker's apartment building?"

  "Our team and the bomb squad are there now," Doyle informed her. "She's been moved temporarily to a secure location."

  Cam's face showed no sign of it, but she relaxed as some of her inner tension dissipated. One disaster averted. "I talked to Lindsey Ryan at Quantico and brought her up to date," Cam began. "She believes that this is a real threat, and if he can't access his primary target - Egret, or his designated substitute - Diane Bleeker, then he may choose someone else out of frustration or anger."

  She looked around the table, and she knew that she didn't need to repeat what Lindsey Ryan had already told them. Any of them could be next. "Egret will remain sequestered here for the immediate future. She's agreed to postpone her plans for San Francisco, but we only have a two and a half week window until Paris. Then she is going to have to travel, and she'll be visible again."

  Vulnerable is what she meant.

  Doyle waved a hand in dismissal. "It's unreasonable to keep her out of sight indefinitely," he said, carefully avoiding the suggestion that Blair's visibility was one sure way to draw out their UNSUB. Unconsciously he rubbed the fading abrasion on his neck. "On the other hand, offering Loverboy a meet is the best way to get him out in the open."

  Cam saw both Mac and Stark stiffen, and she knew one or both of them was about to vehemently protest. She raised her left hand an inch off the table and both of them settled back in their chairs, their faces set and angry. Cam stared at Patrick Doyle and said very evenly, her voice completely controlled, "Special Agent in Charge Doyle, I am certain that you are not suggesting that we use the President's daughter as bait for a proven psychopathic killer."

  Doyle's jaw bunched, and he answered stiffly, "Of course not."

  "Then we needn't pursue that line of thought any further," Cam responded, struggling to control her anger. "Egret continues to receive regular email from him. He is using hacked IP numbers and routing messages through random computers so he is still not traceable. As was previously decided, there has been no attempt to block his messages, because it's our only means of judging his state of mind and potentially predicting his moves."

  "Well, that's been a royal failure," Doyle remarked harshly.

  Cam ignored him and continued. "Agent Ryan suggests that we communicate with him via email, as Egret, in an attempt to get more information about his plans. This seems logical. An agent with computer and electronics expertise will be joining my team later today. She can begin the exchange after Loverboy's next contact."

  There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone realized that this new agent would be a replacement for Jeremy Finch.

  Doyle broke the silence as he said with a smug smile. "I talked with the Director on the way here. He agrees with me that we need to be more proactive if we're going to resolve this situation."

  Cam didn't move an inch although every muscle became rigid. "Meaning?"

  "We're planning on initiating contact, just as you suggested, Roberts," Doyle stated with an unmistakable note of condescension. "But we're not interested in dialoguing . We're going to set up a meet."

  "A decoy operation?" Mac exclaimed in surprise. "This guy is a bomber. You can't send someone in undercover when she might be walking into a bomb."

  "We assessed the risk to be acceptable," Doyle said brusquely. Straightening a pile of folders in front of him, he added, "We expect it will take several days to put things in place. We're bringing in our own person to establish electronic contact with him."

  "It's a risky operation, Doyle," Cam said quietly. "There are other avenues we can pursue first."

  "We've all waited long enough," Doyle said. He looked pointedly at Cam, his expression accusatory. "Too long."

  Cam knew that she had very little to say about an FBI operation. It wasn't what she would've done, but her primary concern was Blair's security, and she admitted to herself reluctantly that the FBI were well within their rights to attempt apprehension their own way.

  She pushed back her chair, having registered her dissent. That was all she could do. "I'd appreciate it if you kept us informed of the timetable. In the meantime, I'm going to have my team continue analyzing the videos and photos from the park."

  This time, Doyle couldn't hide his triumphant grin.

  "No problem there, Roberts. You'll be informed since we're going to be using one of your agents to work the decoy."

  Cam placed both hands flat on the table and leaned forward, her body coiled with tension as if she might spring from her chair. Her voice was low, dangerously low, when she said, "No, Doyle, you are not. My agents are Secret Service agents. They are not decoys for the FBI."

  Doyle shrugged. "It's already been cleared. We need someone with firsthand knowledge of Egret in case we get into a situation where a verbal exchange with the UNSUB is necessary. I can't brief a new agent on the kinds of things he might ask. The decoy needs to be one of yours."

  For a minute, Cam couldn't think through her fury. Doyle had gone behind her back and essentially conscripted one of her agents for a potentially lethal mission. She stood, struggling to maintain her composure. None of them had had much sleep in the last seventy-two hours, and she was riding the thin edge of control. She had lost one man already. She was not going to lose another. "This is not going to happen, Doyle."

  "It's not up to you," Doyle said, rising also. "It's been approved and your agent has already accepted the assignment."

  Cam glanced quickly at Stark, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. Clearly, she knew nothing of Doyle's plan.

  "This meeting is over," Cam snapped as she turned and walked out the door. Another second and she would have had her hands on his throat again.

  Chapter thirty-one

  Cam stalked through the command room, barking, "Grant! With me."

  Ellen Grant jumped to her feet and hurried to follow her tall commander as she pushed through the door into the outer hallway. The elevator ride down to the lobby was chillingly silent. As they approached the double glass doors, Grant said quietly, "Commander, I-"

  "In a minute, Grant," Cam said sharply, working hard to quell her desire to punch Patrick Doyle in the face. Ellen Grant was her agent -- hers to command, hers to protect. He had come between her and someone she was responsible for, and that was a serious miscalculation on his part. She could tolerate his personal affronts, but she would not tolerate anyone interfering with what was h
ers.

  Grant set her jaw and prepared herself for an upbraiding. It would be hard to take coming from Roberts, because she respected her.

  They crossed the street and Cam unlocked the ornate park gates, stepping through with Grant on her heels. Once they were inside, Cam slowed so that Grant could walk by her side. Cam looked at her and said, "Do you want to tell me what happened between you and SAC Doyle?"

  Grant stared straight ahead, her tone subdued as she replied, "He contacted me this morning while you were on the phone with Washington. He told me he would need me for an undercover operation to apprehend Loverboy." She swallowed, recalling the strange conversation. "I told him he should speak with you, but he informed me the decision had already been made in Washington. He said that he needed my answer then."

  She looked into Cam's face, her tone unapologetic. "I told him yes."

  They had reached a secluded corner of the park, not far from where Cam had sat with Blair only days before. They stood under the shade of a weeping willow, Cam with her hands balled into fists in the pockets of her trousers, Grant unconsciously at attention.

  "I'm not going to let you do this, Grant," Cam said quietly, although her voice vibrated with tension. "You're a Secret Service agent, not FBI. This is an undercover decoy operation, and you're not trained for it."

  Grant straightened even further, a set look of determination on her face. "Commander, I respectfully disagree. I was a cop before I joined the Service. I can do this."

  Cam smiled slightly, expecting nothing less from the spit and polish Grant. She was a solid agent in every respect, and Cam did not doubt her abilities. Nevertheless, she was not going to lose another agent, not in an operation that spelled disaster from the onset. There were too many people involved and not enough coordination. Janet had been a trained undercover detective, and she had died in an operation just like this. Cam wasn't going to lose anyone else.

  "Agent Grant, I have never doubted your abilities. I value your contribution to this team, and I trust Egret to your care. This is something altogether different, and it's not going to happen."

  Grant met Cam's eyes and she spoke her mind. "Commander, you may not have anything to say about this. I'm not certain that anyone can override SAC Doyle at this point. If I'm needed, and if I'm ordered, I'll do it. And do it willingly. Jeremy Finch is dead. You were almost killed." She hesitated for moment, and then said quietly, "The next time, Commander, he may be too angry to settle for a substitute. The next time it might be Egret. Commander, I want this assignment."

  Cam looked past Grant's shoulder up to the penthouse of Blair's apartment building. They couldn't keep her up there forever. She doubted they could even keep her up there for a few days, nor did she really want to.

  Blair was suffering - from the guilt of others dying in her place and from the conflict of being at once exposed to countless strangers - and confined by them. It was a conflict that was suffocating her and one that would eventually destroy her strength. Cam could not bear to see that. She brought her eyes back to Ellen Grant's steady blue ones.

  "If it comes to that, Grant, I want you to know that I'll be right behind you. You're not going into this alone."

  Grant smiled softly. "Thank you, Commander. That makes me feel better."

  Finally, Cam smiled, too. "And Ellen - thank you."

  When they turned and walked side by side from the park, the silence between them was one of unspoken communion.

  *

  Blair answered the door at the first knock. "Is Diane all right?" she inquired urgently as Cam stepped into the loft.

  Cam nodded and went directly to the phone. She disconnected the jack and inserted a small rectangular box between the wall and Blair's phone. An LCD readout blinked on the face of the metal device, showing a series of rapidly cycling ten digit numbers. She depressed the receiver once to engage the scrambler, then handed the telephone to Blair. "Why don't you call her yourself? 212-555-1950."

  Blair raised an eyebrow and pushed the numbers. A few seconds later she said, "I'd like to speak to Diane please..." She whispered a 'thank you' to Cam as she waited, then the first real smile in a long time lit her face. "Hey. How are you doing?"

  Blair leaned against the breakfast counter that divided her kitchen from her work area and reached for Cam's hand as she spoke. "I don't think it's a good idea to try to seduce the FBI, Diane," she said dryly, a wry smile on her face. She tugged Cam closer, and Cam slipped behind her to sit on one of the high stools lined up along the center island in the kitchen.

  Blair backed between Cam's legs, saying, "Yes, I know. They do seem to be criminally attractive, but I still think it might provoke an incident if you dragged one into the bedroom."

  As she talked, she ran her fingers up and down Cam's arm. Cam shifted, spreading her legs so that she could pull Blair against her chest, slipping both arms loosely around Blair's waist from behind, cradling her softly in her arms. She rested her chin against the top of Blair's head. She sighed, too quietly for Blair to hear.

  "I can't tell you very much. I don't know very much," Blair offered, placing her palm on the inside of Cam's thigh. Almost unconsciously, she trailed her fingers along the inside seam of Cam's trousers, listening to Diane tell her about the less than four star accommodations she was being subjected to. Hearing Diane's voice helped ease the ball of tension that had filled her chest all morning. But even in her relief, she was much more aware of the slight increase in Cam's breathing and the fine tension rippling through the muscles under her hand.

  "She's here with me now... Yes, Diane," Blair said in mock exasperation. "I'm listening to her." She laughed, and added, "I said I was listening - I didn't necessarily say I was following orders. I don't believe domestication is an immediate threat."

  As Blair spoke, Cam fingered open the top two buttons of her blouse and slipped her hand inside. Blair gave a slight start of surprise and automatically pressed her hips back into Cam's crotch.

  "I'm sorry about this," Blair said quietly, trying valiantly to ignore the brush of Cam's hands over her nipples. "I trust Cam, and she'll get you out of there as soon as it's possible."

  Blair reached behind her and found the button on Cam's fly. A second later she had it open and was tugging at the zipper. "I'll call again," she said, then listened briefly. "Yes. I'll be careful, I promise."

  Before she said goodbye, her hand was inside Cam's trousers. She set down the phone and leaned her head back against Cam's shoulder -extending her neck, offering her flesh. Cam's lips were on her immediately, hot and hungry. Blair rubbed her fingers over Cam's briefs, smiling to herself as she found the heat she expected.

  "Thank you for that," Blair said throatily, arching her back, pressing her breasts up into Cam's palms.

  "What?" Cam asked dimly. She was focused on the way Blair's breasts filled her hands and the insistent pounding pressure between her legs building rapidly under Blair's fingertips.

  "Letting me call her," Blair murmured, her eyes closed. She moved her hand back up to Cam's belly, aware of the faint growl of frustration from her lover. She smiled to herself, enjoying the power. She smoothed her palm over Cam's firm stomach and then pushed her hand under the waistband of her underwear, back down between her legs. She slipped a finger on either side of the firm prominence of Cam's clitoris, squeezing her slowly. Cam jerked against her, groaning softly.

  Then Cam's lips were against her ear, her breath ragged, as she whispered, "Do that a little harder and you'll make me come."

  "I intend to," Blair answered, a hungry edge to her voice. She moved her hand away and turned in Cam's arms until she faced her, still between her legs, her breasts exposed through her open blouse. She rubbed her hard nipples over Cam's shirt front, gasping softly at the fine ripple of excitement that ran straight down to her own clitoris.

  "Put your fingers back on me," Cam pleaded, her eyes hazy with need.

  "Not here. Not just yet," Blair whispered, stepping away. She caught Cam's unin
jured hand in hers and pulled her upright. "I want you slow."

  "I don't have much time," Cam protested hoarsely, following her nevertheless.

  Blair glanced back, an enigmatic smile on her face. "You have enough time, Commander. The only advantage to our situation is that no one is going to question your presence up here."

  Blair drew her around the corner of the partition into her sleeping alcove, then turned and reached for the buttons on Cam's shirt. "I've never made love with a woman in my own bed. Couldn't find one to pass the security inspection." She stopped long enough to kiss her, a deep languid kiss. She was having trouble keeping her hands from shaking she wanted her so badly, but she continued evenly, "Apparently, you're the one. Stand still."

  Methodically, she opened each button as Cam submitted quietly to the slow torture, her hands clenched at her sides, shuddering with arousal. Blair stripped the shirt off and laid it carefully over a chair, mentioning almost as an afterthought, "It wouldn't do to get this too wrinkled."

  When Blair began to pull off Cam's trousers, Cam's restraint wavered and she hurriedly pushed them off herself. In a minute she was naked. She reached for Blair, who stepped back quickly with a small shake of her head. Blair's eyes were laser bright and focused intently on Cam's body.

  "No, you can't touch me," Blair said thickly. "I don't want to be distracted either."

  Blair drew Cam to the bed and urged her down on top of the covers. Then, watching Cam watch her, she slowly removed her own clothing. As she slid the sheer silk off her shoulders, she drew her fingers down her breasts, lingering on her nipples, tugging them lightly until the exquisite sensation became too much to bear. As she continued down to stroke her abdomen, teasing ever lower towards the curls at the base of her belly, she kept her eyes on Cam's. Cam's eyes were dark and hot and her hands twitched where they lay on the covers. Cam's reaction heightened her arousal as much as her own caresses.