Honor Reclaimed

by Radclyffe

  Groaning, Cam kissed her throat, her jaw, her mouth. Tasting her after so many days of fear and worry was like finding a crystal pool in the heart of the desert. She drank, feasting, her hands roaming Blair's body, brushing over the peaks of her breasts, smoothing down her abdomen to dance along the inside of her thighs. She lingered inside her mouth, breathing her in, filling the dark places inside with her light. She pushed up until she could look into Blair's eyes. "I love you."

  "These last few days—I thought I would scream if you didn't touch me soon." Blair's eyes were already hazy beneath trembling lids. "Don't let me come yet,"

  "Let me up then, baby," Cam murmured, pulling away.

  "Nooo," Blair protested, both hands on Cam's hips, pressing her sex hard against Cam's rigid thigh. The pressure against her hot, hard center tore a cry from her.

  "You're going to come if you keep doing that," Cam warned halfheartedly. She wanted her to come. She slid two fingers around one tight nipple and squeezed.

  Blair shuddered and groped blindly for Cam's hand, dragging it down her body and pushing it between her thighs. "Fuck me. God, Cam, fuck me now."

  Cam curled an arm behind Blair's shoulders and pulled her tight against her body as she pushed inside her, knowing what would follow. Blair jolted in the circle of her arms, her head snapping back as she crashed into orgasm.

  "Oh God oh God oh God," Blair keened.

  "That's it, baby. That's it." Cam gloried in her responsiveness, loving the sheer, pure beauty of her passion. She drove deep, pulled out, and drove again, wanting to feel her—alive and vital, screaming out her pleasure in the safety of Cam's arms. She pushed her to another orgasm and started again.

  Blair groped for Cam's wrist. "I can't.. .come.. .one more time."

  Instantly, Cam stilled, keeping her hand inside as she pressed her face to the top of Blair's head. She tried to hide the tears that streaked her cheeks, but Blair knew. She always knew.

  "Don't cry, darling. Don't cry." Blair pulled Cam's head to her breast and rocked her.

  "I just need a minute to get myself together," Cam gasped, burying her face against Blair's neck. "Christ, Christ. I was so damned scared."

  Blair's heart twisted, and she held her even more tightly. "You can have all the time you need. I'm not ever letting go. Not ever."

  Chapter Twenty-two

  W hen Cam opened her eyes, the room was dark. She lay on her back, Blair's head on her shoulder and their limbs entwined. Blair's breath was warm against her breast, and her heartbeat steady and strong. It took her another few seconds to realize that the hard knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach that had been her constant companion for five days was gone. She ran her fingertips along the plane of Blair's shoulder blade, then over the curve of her shoulder and down her muscled arm. When she reached her hand, she traced each strong finger, seeing them as they held a brush—applying paint to canvas with swift sure strokes—feeling them on her body, bringing her to orgasm with equal grace.

  "I love you," she whispered.

  Blair tightened her hold and pressed a kiss to the hollow beneath Cam's collarbone. "You okay?"

  "Yeah, I am." Cam cupped the back of Blair's neck lightly and spread her fingers into her hair, teasing the strands over the back of her hand. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

  "I think I can take credit for that," Blair said, laughing softly.

  "Oh," Cam mused. "I remember now. That was you, was it?"

  Blair bit Cam's shoulder hard enough to make her wince. "I'd better be the only one making you come hard enough to fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon."

  Cam kissed Blair's forehead. "You're the only one anytime, anyplace."

  "That too." Blair circled her tongue over the red mark she'd left on Cam's skin. "You know, we've never talked about that."

  "Monogamy?" Cam felt the slightest stirring of unease, but pushed it aside. Listen first, then react. In her ordinary dealings that wasn't difficult, but where Blair was concerned her heart tended to rule her head more often than not. "Should we?"

  "What?"

  "Talk about it."

  "Okay." Blair lifted up on an elbow and peered intently into Cam's face. "If I find out that you've slept with anyone else, I'll kick your ass from here to China."

  "That's it?" Cam asked as Blair settled back into the curve of her body.

  "Yep."

  "Okay. As long as it goes both ways."

  "Okay."

  Cam went back to stroking Blair's hair. "Does that mean we're engaged?"

  "Well, two people usually only get engaged if they're planning on getting married."

  "I know that." Cam felt Blair grow very still against her. "We're going to be here a few weeks, at least, until we get a clear fix on what happened at the Aerie. There's always the possibility that the FBI or one of the other agencies will break it, but I'm working under the assumption that their resources are spread pretty thin and ours are totally focused."

  "Meaning you've got the better shot at getting some answers."

  "Yes."

  "I don't mind staying here, since I don't exactly have a home to go to at the moment."

  "When it's time to leave," Cam said quietly, "I'd like us to find a place where we can live together."

  "Is Manhattan okay?" Blair unconsciously cupped Cam's breast, needing the physical intimacy while they strayed into emotional waters that were unknown to her. "I like being near Diane, and it's good for my work."

  "Sure. Anyplace works for me."

  "So are you proposing, Commander?"

  "Yes." Cam lifted Blair's hand and kissed her palm. "Are you accepting?"

  Blair shifted on top of her, resting on her forearms so she could look into Cam's eyes. "The media will have a field day."

  "That's nothing new."

  "Lucinda will probably have a heart attack."

  Cam grinned. "Nothing new there, either."

  "I want a really, really big wedding with lots of Washington pundits and dignitaries."

  "Uh, okay."

  Even in the moonlight, Blair could see Cam pale. She couldn't hold back her laughter. "I'm sorry. Just a few friends, my father and Lucinda, and Marcea and whomever you want, of course."

  "Rings?"

  Blair drew in a sharp breath. "Whoever would have guessed I would have fallen for such a traditionalist."

  "You weren't looking when I snuck up on you."

  "Oh, I was looking." Blair kissed her, hard and long and deep, then drew away, murmuring her pleasure. "Why now?"

  "This week...was hard," Cam said quietly. "I never questioned loving you—I think that started the first time I saw you. But now I know what it would feel like without you—really know. I don't ever want that." She touched Blair's face with her fingertips, and her hand was shaking. "This just feels right."

  "Oh," Blair murmured before she brought her mouth to Cam's again. She poured her passion into Cam's body, with her mouth, with her tongue, with her hands streaking over her and, ultimately, into her. She didn't stop until Cam bowed underneath her and shook beneath the force of her devotions. Blair kept her head up, her eyes open, watching through lust-clouded eyes as Cam surrendered every defense, marveling at the trust she was gifted. As Cam came, Blair whispered, "I love you. Always."

  Cam fought for breath as her arms and legs lay limp against the mattress, her head still reeling. She swallowed and found her voice. "Did you just say yes?"

  "Mmm," Blair answered as she shifted upward, straddling Cam's shoulders and easing down toward her mouth. "I did."

  *

  "What are you going to tell your father?" Cam asked as she rummaged in her suitcase for a clean shirt,

  Blair ran a comb through her damp hair and leaned against the bedpost, enjoying the sight of Cam, still nude after their shower. "That I'm crazy in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

  Cam straightened, a pale blue shirt, still in its plastic wrap from the dry cleaners, in her right hand.
"Just like that?"

  "Yep. What are you going to tell Marcea?"

  "That you're the only woman for me and I want everyone to know it."

  Blair put out an arm as Cam started toward her. "Don't come near me right now."

  Cam raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  "Well, you can if it's your intention to go right back to bed. Otherwise, keep your distance, because I seem to be in that gotta have you every second state of mind."

  "I think that's probably a result of you being locked up for five days."

  Blair's expression grew serious. "Jesus, I hated that. Thank God Stark was with me, and you could visit the last few days."

  "Yeah, I think you even started to enjoy the pinochle." Cam shrugged into her shirt and crossed to Blair as she buttoned it. She kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry I have to leave tonight."

  "You're not going anywhere, are you?" Blair asked quickly, catching Cam's hand.

  "No." Cam searched Blair's face with worried eyes. "Hey. I'm just going down to brief with Felicia and Valerie. You okay?"

  Blair laughed shakily. "I hate feeling dependent almost as much as I hate being locked up. I just.. .1 just need you around right now."

  Cam cupped Blair's face between her palms and kissed her softly on the mouth. "I'm not going anywhere." She kissed her again. "And just in case you were wondering, I need you around right now too."

  "If I could just feel like my life is at least heading back toward normal."

  "I'm going to be spending a lot of time coordinating this search, working out of the command center we've set up in the guesthouse." Cam stepped into her trousers. "It will probably get intense."

  "I know. I expected that. Hopefully, I'lll be able to paint."

  "And Tanner will be around, for company."

  Blair nodded. "I love Tanner. And Adrienne. But I was wondering..."

  "What?" Cam asked, pulling on her holster.

  "There is one thing you can do for me before you leave tonight." Blair reached down and retrieved Cam's belt from the floor, then handed it to her.

  "Thanks. What is it?"

  Blair told her, and Cam nodded.It was going to cause complications. "Sure. If that's what you need, I'll take care of it."

  *

  "How's Mac doing?" Valerie asked as Felicia closed her cell phone.

  The two women sat across from one another at a glass-and-chrome table in a makeshift office they had hastily assembled in the dining room of the spacious two-bedroom guesthouse. Through the patio doors the shoreline was visible one hundred yards away. A twisting path led from the wooden rear deck through low dunes to the sandy beach. Under other circumstances, it would be idyllic.

  "They're feeding him, so that makes him happy." Felicia smiled softly. "He's been out of bed, but that's about it. It's going to take him a while to regain his strength, but he's young and in great shape."

  "Your team took a battering."

  Felicia pushed back from the table, stood, and walked to the far side of the room. She opened the patio doors and a brisk night breeze blew in. It was just after ten p.m. "Do you mind?"

  "No." Valerie remained seated, unable to read much from her expression but suspecting she knew several of the questions on Felicia's mind. "I know it's not easy working with someone new, especially in light of all that's happened." She didn't think it was necessary to bring up the betrayal of one of the team's own. "But I want to help bring these people down."

  Felicia looked over her shoulder, appraising the cool, composed, and almost painfully beautiful woman who, not more than a month before, had been the subject of one of her own investigations. "The only thing I know about you is that you say you're CIA."

  "You have doubts?"

  "It's hard to believe even the CIA would put an agent in that position," Felicia said, turning back to the night.

  "The Agency makes its own rules." Valerie smiled thinly, realizing that Cameron's team knew the nature of her previous cover.

  Felicia snorted. "Oh, we all know that. I just can't believe none of us tipped to it."

  "Covert operations are our business. It wouldn't have been easy."

  "But you broke your cover for this operation."

  Valerie smiled fleetingly. "I follow orders too."

  "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here?"

  So that anything you find out, my superiors will know about immediately. Because someone thinks that you and your colleagues can do more than an interagency team made up of people who will be too busy trying to take credit to find out anything of value could. Valerie held Felicia's gaze. "I'm here to lend assistance. My understanding is that Camer—Agent Roberts's team is to be given unrestricted access to intelligence from every department. I'm here as a liaison from the Agency to see that happens."

  "Just a glorified go-between, huh?"

  "That's me."

  Felicia shook her head, knowing they were playing a game that they were both too good at to lose. Valerie would not tell her what her true orders were, no matter how hard she probed. And they had work to do. "The commander trusts you."

  It was a statement, not requiring an answer.

  "So I do too." Felicia walked back to the table and sat down. "Let's go over what we have."

  From the doorway, Cam said, "Let me grab a cup of coffee, and you can brief us both."

  Valerie rose and said to Felicia. "I'll make it this time. You can get the next pot."

  "Sure," Felicia said, watching Valerie follow the commander into the kitchen. She wondered what remained between them, and, despite the fact that Valerie's motives remained suspect, she felt sorry for her. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, and rested her face in her hands. It had been good to hear Mac's voice. Better than good. He had almost died, and the reality of what losing him would mean had struck her hard. It was time to rethink whether the barriers she had erected around her heart kept her safe or merely kept her alone.

  *

  "Okay," Cam said, pushing her empty coffee cup aside. She looked from Felicia to Valerie and then focused on Felicia. "What you're telling me is that we have the bodies of four men, each of which has been autopsied at Quantico."

  "Yes, ma'am." Felicia passed the four folders across the table to Cam, who set them in a neat pile to her left.

  "And the FBI's finest couldn't find a single thing to identify any of them."

  "Nothing from the usual forensic evidence, no," Felicia said in a neutral tone. She was frustrated, they all were, and she needed a clear head to solve the problem. "We've run their fingerprints, obviously, and turned up nothing. We've got DNA—ditto. No matches. Dental impressions were made by the pathologist, but without a geographic area to focus on, it's impossible to even find adequate records to compare these to."

  "So, if we ever find out where these guys came from, we might be able to run down the x-rays from area orthodontists, dentists, oral surgeons, and the like, right?"

  Felicia nodded. "It will be corroborating evidence after the fact, but it's not going to take us anywhere now."

  "What about retinal scans?"

  Valerie shook her head. "The only retinal scans we might be able to access are from internal sources—the Pentagon, DOD, NSA, and similar agencies."

  "FBI, CIA," Felicia added.

  "Right," Valerie agreed. "Getting them is going to be tough, and retinal imaging from cadavers is very uncertain. The vitreous begins to coagulate soon after death, and because of the situation in Manhattan the day of the assaults, these bodies weren't retrieved for nearly eighteen hours."

  "So no usable images?" Cam persisted.

  "Not that we know of," Felicia clarified.

  "Find out."

  Valerie and Felicia made notes simultaneously.

  "Anything else from the bodies? Old wounds, surgical scars— something we could track in hospital records."

  "Nothing except they all had similar tattoos on their right upper arm," Felicia stated. She passed a computer image acros
s the table. It showed a pale patch of skin with a tattoo of two crossed assault rifles above a small American flag.

  Cam studied and frowned. "An Armed Forces division?"

  "Apparently Savard checked that right away," Valerie said, referring to a sheaf of papers in front of her. "It's not an insignia from any division in the Army or the Marines."

  "Well," Cam said, "I guess the American flag rules out any other nationality." She placed a fingertip on the lower corner of the paper and slid it back and forth in front of her staring at the blurry shapes. "Some kind of patriot group?"

  "It's possible," Valerie said. "Savard also started a search through the FBI and CIA files on known paramilitary groups here and abroad. Unfortunately, there's no central database tabulating this kind of thing, and thus far we have nothing. It's going to take a lot of digging to assemble the available intelligence."

  "These guys had some kind of military training, and if they don't show up in the Armed Forces databases, then it had to be well-organized, unofficial training." Cam regarded Valerie. "Your people must have some record of mercenary groups that employ a high percentage of Americans. There have been any number of actions in South and Central America as well as Africa where these guys might have been involved."

  "It's on the list to check."

  "Okay. Top of the list—mercenary and paramilitary groups." Cam pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore the headache that was beginning to throb between her eyes. "And we need to look for a connection between these same groups and Al Qaeda." She swept her gaze from Felicia to Valerie, recalling the conversation she'd had with the president's security advisor that morning. "Because it looks more and more like Osama's claim to being behind the attack on the World Trade Center is true."

  "God," Felicia exclaimed. "How did we all miss that?"

  "That's probably what everyone in DC is trying to figure out right now," Cam said as she stood. "And that's why we have to be the ones to spearhead this portion of the investigation. Let's switch our emphasis from identifying the dead men to collecting everything we can about the organizations we mentioned and finding out all there is to know about Foster. He's our only solid link at this point."