by Radclyffe
Felicia Davis calmly readied the backup drives and prepared yet another worm to launch. “One of these times I’ll get you,” she said under her breath. He was out there, not so very far away; she could feel him on the line. Her fingers raced on the keys with the speed and sixth sense of an expert hacker.
Blair waited. She knew what none of the others understood. No matter what anyone said, this was about her—it had always been about her. She was the woman the cameras captured and the newspapers wrote about, just as she was the woman who painted late into the still night, and the woman who trembled helplessly in Cameron Roberts’s arms. He simply wanted the woman that the world had made its own.
She breathed out slowly as the lines appeared.
[email protected]: Go to www.privatetalk.com, the game room.
[email protected]: How will I find you?
[email protected]: Don’t worry. I’ll find you.
Blair didn’t hesitate.
[email protected]: I’ll be waiting.
Chapter Twenty-One
Operation: Love Bug
0545
Lindsey Ryan sat alone in the conference room, a can of soda by her right hand and stacks of papers and folders scattered around her. She leaned her head in her left palm and drummed a pencil on the tabletop as she stared at a computer printout. Startled out of concentration, she jumped at the sound of the deep quiet voice from behind her.
“What do you think?”
Lindsey looked up as Cam approached, noticing the very fine lines of stress around her eyes. Other than that small sign, the security chief didn’t appear to have a concern in the world. Except that Lindsey knew that the commander hadn’t slept more than an hour or two in the last three days, unless she did it with her eyes open. She was rarely out of the command center.
“I think he’s crazy as a loon.”
“Me, too.” Cam smiled grimly. “Will he show?”
Ryan sighed and looked back at the critical portion of the transcript for the hundredth time.
[email protected]: Why won’t you believe me?
[email protected]: About what?
[email protected]: That I worship you. You’re all I care about.
[email protected]: Maybe because you’re threatening my friends and killing people.
[email protected]: You don’t leave me any choice. You ignore me.
[email protected]: I’m not ignoring you now.
[email protected]: This isn’t enough.
[email protected]: What more do you want?
[email protected]: I want to see you. I want to make you understand.
[email protected]: Do you really love me?
[email protected]: I live for you.
[email protected]: If I meet you, will you stop the killing?
[email protected]: Yes.
[email protected]: Do you promise?
[email protected]: I have been patient long enough. You know what I’ll do if you deny me. You’ll have no one to blame but yourself.
Lindsey pointed to the last lines. “Here’s the problem part. Until this point in the exchange, he’s negotiating. But the minute Egret questions him, which, by the way, I’m glad she did—it’s in character for her—he reverts to threats.”
Cam’s stomach clenched. “Is he threatening her?”
“Probably.” Lindsey hesitated. “Yes...I think yes. He’s had his fill of substitutes, I think. He wants her and no one else. If he can’t have her now, I’d say that she’ll become his target, and he won’t stop until you catch him.”
Rubbing her eyes, Cam pulled out the chair next to her and sat. “What does that mean for the operation? Will he show?”
“He’s highly intelligent, so he must suspect a trap. On the other hand, he’s arrogant and believes that he can’t be caught. It depends on the balance between his ability to think rationally and his need to see her—to touch her—in the flesh. By now, he must be wild for her. So...maybe.”
“I need better than maybe, Ryan,” Cam said adamantly. “I’ve got an agent going into that meet alone. And I’ve got Egret locked up in here and I can’t keep her here forever.” She repeated, “Will he be there?”
Lindsey considered the image of the man she had formed in her mind after spending dozens of hours reading his messages to Blair Powell. He was completely and totally obsessed with the president’s daughter, and he spent every second of every day thinking about her. He fantasized about her returning his affections, about her fulfilling his needs. He had built an elaborate delusional system with her as his psychosexual center; he had resorted to violence to make her recognize his desires.
“He’ll be there.”
Cam stood, satisfied. They had less than a day to prepare, and even though Doyle was coordinating the teams, she was reviewing everything herself. Ellen Grant was going in with every bit of protection Cam could give her.
“Why is he doing this? Agreeing to this meet?” Cam asked finally. “He must know we’ll be all over that place.”
Lindsey shrugged. “Ms. Powell assured him that she would not reveal their plans. He needs to believe that, because he needs to believe that she desires him the way he desires her. The rational part of him will be suspicious, but the psychotic part desperately needs to believe that she is coming to him out of mutual love and desire.”
“What if he discovers that she betrayed him?”
Lindsey Ryan said quietly, “Then he’ll kill her...or anyone we send in her place.”
1030
Stark found Savard in the workout room down the hall from the command center. The FBI agent was wearing black Lycra shorts and a sports bra, and she was punching the hell out of a heavy hanging bag. The sweat on her skin made its coffee color shine like bronze, and Stark felt her mouth go dry watching her. She’d looked like a gazelle running that day in the park—Jesus, when was that—only six days ago?
But now, with her muscles tensing under her smooth skin and the swift, even recoil of her limbs as she danced around the swinging bag, she looked more like a leopard running its prey to ground.
Savard looked over and saw Stark standing there, an expression on her face that would have surely made the Secret Service agent blush if she’d seen herself. Smiling, Savard thundered one last right hook into the leather. Then she wiped her forearm across her face, shook most of the sweat from her hair, and walked over to the other agent.
“Any news?”
Stark shook her head. “Still a green light for tonight.”
“Good,” Savard grunted, working at the laces on her right glove with her teeth. “It’s time to put this bastard away.”
“Here, let me get that,” Stark said, reaching for the ties on the heavy boxing glove. Her hands were shaking. God.
“You okay?” Savard took a good look at her companion. The bruises had faded from around Stark’s eyes, but the stitches were still there, a neat row of tiny black ants marching across her smooth pale forehead. Tenderly, she inquired, “Does your head still hurt?”
“No.” Stark kept her head bent as she worked at the stubborn knot in the laces. “It’s fine.”
Savard raised the other glove until it rested under Paula Stark’s chin and then gently pushed, forcing her head up, forcing Stark to look at her. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s going to get hectic later. I just...” Stark faltered, struggling to express emotions she scarcely understood herself. “I’ll be in one of the backup cars. I probably won’t see you alone again before you go.”
Savard waited.
Stark swallowed. “I just wanted to remind you that we...uh...that later...when you get back...”
“I know. We have a date. I won’t forget,” Savard said warmly. She leaned forward and kissed her very lightly on the mouth. “You’re brave, you know.” She wasn’t talking about the job.
“Not so very,” Stark whispered, trembling in a place she had never trembled before.
“I’ll
see you when it’s over,” Savard murmured, then stepped around her and disappeared.
Stark closed her eyes, feeling the kiss still soft upon her lips. Please just come back.
1530
Cam stood in the rear of the room, listening while Doyle outlined the operation assignments to the FBI, ATF, tactical unit, and bomb squads. The state police were detailed to secure the perimeter with roadblocks, once the assault and capture teams were in place. So the sector captain was there, too.
Eight hours to go.
Cam was there because she wanted to know where everyone else would be if things started to go bad. Ellen Grant would not be caught in anybody’s crossfire, because Cam intended to be right on her heels. She had been involved in the planning from the minute Loverboy took the bait and gave Blair the location—an abandoned amusement park. Doyle couldn’t keep her out since he was using her agent.
Catching Grant’s attention as Doyle wrapped up the briefing, Cam motioned with her head to the hallway outside.
“You okay?” she asked when they were out of earshot of the others.
Grant nodded. “Fine.”
“Savard will wire you before you armor up,” Cam reminded her. “I want to hear your voice every step. Everything you hear, everything you see, everything you think you see—I want to know about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You key on my voice. You do not engage, you do not intercept, unless you hear it from me.”
Grant looked at her, a question in her eyes. SAC Doyle had said he would relay her orders from where he was stationed—a surveillance post on top of a warehouse five hundred yards from the contact point.
Cam saw her uncertainty. “I’ll be on the ground with Savard, closer to you than anyone else. I’ll hear the directives at the same time you do. And I’ll have a better read on the situation than he will. You go when I confirm, understood?”
“Yes, ma’am, I understand Thank you.” Grant hesitated a second, then added, “Commander, my husband’s on patrol tonight. I’ll leave his number—”
“The only person,” Cam interrupted firmly, “calling your husband tonight, Agent Grant, will be you when this action is over. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grant smiled gratefully. “Quite clear.”
“Good, then go get some rest.”
Cam watched her walk away and checked her watch. Then she went in search of Savard.
1730
Savard was laying out body armor and sorting rounds of ammunition in the small weapons room next to the main command center when Cam found her.
“Everything in order?”
She glanced up and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Locked and loaded.”
“Good,” Cam leaned against the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. “About tonight...”
“Yes?” Savard noted the hard stillness in her eyes. There was a finality there that told her whatever was coming was not going to be negotiable.
“Ellen Grant is mine,” Cam said quietly. “No one is going to order her into danger except me.”
Savard thought hard about that, because she knew that Doyle expected to control Grant’s movements. According to the book, she should go to the SAC now and inform him that there was a conflict in command. Roberts was giving her a choice. Which meant that she was also giving her the responsibility, and the accountability. Once they reached the rendezvous, there would just be the four of them—Grant, Roberts, her...and Loverboy. It came down to who she wanted to make the final call, and whose judgment she wanted to rely on in the heat of the moment.
“You’ll be the senior agent in the field, Commander,” she said quite clearly. “I have no problem with you making the call.”
Cam nodded and straightened up. Right. Now I still need to go over the comm links with Mac and then review the construction plans from the city planning office for the amusement park. I also need—
“Commander?” Savard broke into her thoughts.
“Yes?”
“You’ll need to be fresh, too, and you haven’t had much sleep the last couple of days.”
Cam raised an eyebrow, surprised by her frankness.
“There’s still a few hours before we have to gear up,” Savard added.
“I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you, Agent.”
Savard took one step forward, reached to touch her, then stopped. “We’re all trained for this. It must be very difficult for someone who isn’t—the uncertainty of it all.” She hesitated, then added, “She’ll need to hear that you’ll be back.”
Cam stared at her, expressionless for what seemed like an interminable length of time, before a grin lifted one corner of her mouth. “They certainly aren’t making FBI agents the way they used to.”
Savard grinned back. “No, ma’am, they’re not.”
1800
For the third time in as many days, Cam stood at Blair’s door, knowing that when she crossed the threshold, her life would change. Each time she stepped outside of her comfortable world of regulations and routine to enter the uncertain arena of her relationship with Blair, she came away more deeply bound to her. It wasn’t easy, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted it. More than that, she couldn’t deny that she needed it.
Blair opened the door and said softly, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Cam said, not yet moving to enter. Blair looked tired and that was unusual for her. There were smudges of fatigue under her eyes, and the smile she offered Cam was tinged with sadness. Reaching out, Cam ran her fingertips over Blair’s cheek. “Have you slept?”
Blair shook her head. “I meant to, but I couldn’t stop thinking.”
“You should try,” Cam said gently. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“I know,” Blair answered.
She wanted to pull her inside. But she also knew that she wanted to keep her inside, away from the night, away from the danger, and that wasn’t her choice to make. It hurt to think that Cam would not choose safety over responsibility, even for her. So she stood waiting, wondering what it was that Cam really wanted.
Finally she said, “I wasn’t sure you would come.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t know that,” Cam murmured, lifting her fingers to Blair’s face again. “I’m sorry for the pain of all of this.”
“No,” Blair said quickly. “That’s not your doing. It never has been.”
“I could have done things differently,” Cam said. “Between us.”
Blair smiled at that, a faint fond smile. “Could you have?”
“No, I guess not.” Cam shook her head regretfully. “But I wish that I could have, so as not to hurt you.”
“That just might be enough,” Blair admitted, because she couldn’t imagine which part of Cam could be changed without destroying some essential element of her. She feared that to change her would be to lose her.
“Blair,” Cam said urgently, “I want you to know—”
“Don’t.” Blair stopped her with her fingers on her lips. “You don’t need to say anything else. Will you come in now?”
Cam kissed her fingertips. “Yes.”
“Can you stay?” she asked again.
“For a little while.”
“That won’t always be enough,” Blair warned, but there was no anger in her voice.
“I understand,” Cam replied, stepping across the threshold. “But I won’t always be leaving.”
Then Cam was inside, and Blair closed the door, and they were alone. She raised her arms to Cam’s shoulders and moved up against her, resting her face on Cam’s shoulder. She sighed, and as she couldn’t seem to do before, she let go of everything in her mind and floated in the certainty of Cam’s embrace.
“Let’s go to bed,” she finally murmured. “I need to hold you.”
“Yes,” Cam answered quietly, her lips moving gently on Blair’s ear. “I need to tell you things.”
And then they were naked in one another’s arms, face-to-face, covered only by a light
cotton sheet. Slowly, they kissed, each exploring the other anew with gentle strokes and tender caresses. They didn’t hurry but touched with absolute certainty, as if there had been no beginning and there would be no ending. Slowly, they stirred one another until they trembled together, breathless and poised on the precipice, ready to fall.
Blair brought one leg over Cam’s hips, opening herself, as she stared into Cam’s eyes.
“Come inside,” she whispered.
Cam slid her hand between their bodies, her fingers parting the swollen flesh, gliding over Blair’s clitoris, making her gasp and quiver.
“In a minute,” she whispered back.
Their eyes locked as Cam held her tightly, drawing fingers lightly back and forth over the exposed, exquisitely sensitive tip. Blair’s fingers dug into her arm, and Cam murmured, “There’s no hurry. Let me have you.”
Blair was barely breathing, her muscles clenched and begging for release, every cell focused on the overpowering pleasure rippling under Cam’s fingertips.
“Oh please,” she moaned at last. “Let me come.”
Cam pressed harder, circling faster, each knowing stroke bringing her lover slowly but steadily to orgasm. She watched Blair’s blue eyes darken to purple and lose focus.
“I love you,” she whispered as Blair threw her head back and cried out sharply, pushing down hard against Cam’s hand. She entered her then, prolonging the spasms with each thrust until Blair grew quiet and sagged against her.
“You wreck me,” Blair gasped finally.
Cam wrapped both arms around her. “I meant to.”
“Just give me a minute to catch my breath.” Blair pressed her lips to Cam’s shoulder, wondering if she would ever recover, not from the pleasure, but from the agony of loving her so much.