Honor 02 - Honor Bound

by Radclyffe

  It was the second full day of the operation, and there had only been sparse e-mail exchange between Felicia Davis, posing as Blair, and Loverboy. A temporal analysis of his previous communications revealed that he sent a message nearly every day. Frequently it was only a few words or a single line. Lindsey Ryan hypothesized that he not only needed to satisfy his own compulsion to communicate with Blair, but he wanted to prove that he could reach her. His skills extended beyond bomb making and marksmanship, and, despite all attempts to thwart him with shields and aliases and rerouting her mail servers, it never took him long to track her down.

  Blair tolerated his messages because she refused to give up her own access to the Internet, and in an oddly understandable way, she had not want to be cut off from him either. She would not live in a cocoon as if nothing were happening. She wanted to 'hear' his voice if he was threatening her.

  As Cam drew near, she heard Blair say, "I'm the best one to do this."

  Immediately, Cam's stomach began churning uneasily, because she had a feeling she knew what Blair was talking about. She had defended Blair's presence in the command center to Doyle, and in fact she believed precisely what she had said. Nevertheless, she had hoped that Blair would stay away, if only because the tension and uncertainty was wearing for all of them, and she wished to spare her that. But in her heart, she had expected something like this.

  Blair straightened and nodded to Cam, her face revealing none of the quick pleasure she took in seeing her. "Good morning, Commander."

  "Ms. Powell," Cam said warmly, stopping behind the chairs occupied by Mac and Felicia Davis. "Is there some way I can be of service?"

  Blair struggled not to smile, but she knew Cam could see the laughter in her eyes. She resisted the urge to make a clever comeback, only because she didn't trust her voice not to give her away. Being around Cam never failed to arouse her, and she knew it would show in the timbre of her voice. It was bad enough she could feel the liquid heat beginning between her legs. "It occurred to me this morning, Commander, that I should be the one emailing Loverboy. There's no reason to use a go-between in this exchange."

  Cam hesitated for a moment, needing the time to formulate an answer that would be both honest and convincing. She wouldn't lie to her, not only because she had never been able to, but because she could not bring herself to even try. On the other hand, the thought of Blair being involved so intimately with this man, even when there was no chance of physical connection between them, made her almost physically ill. "The reason we're using an agent is because our people know how to manipulate the conversation to get the information we need. Plus, Agent Davis is aware of the things we need to know to secure the meeting site."

  Blair listened, watching Cam's face carefully. Her security chief was very good at keeping her emotions completely compartmentalized. Her lover, however, was not. There was a flicker of worry in Cam's eyes - worry for her - and Blair saw it. She smiled softly, and nodded patiently in agreement. "That makes perfect sense, Commander. However, I don't propose to start emailing him from my apartment. I would do everything right here with Mac and Agent Davis by my side. They could certainly coach me in any procedural things I might need to say much more easily than Agent Davis could pretend to be me. It seems to me there's far less likelihood that he would become suspicious if it actually were me."

  Cam glanced at Mac, who raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded even more imperceptibly.

  "You've caught me somewhat unprepared, Ms. Powell," Cam said quietly, and this time Blair could read nothing in her eyes. "I need to discuss this with Agent Ryan and some others."

  "I understand that. Would you let me know what you think once you've done that?"

  "Certainly," Cam said.

  Blair watched her walk away and wondered just how angry she really was.

  *

  "You outflanked me down there," Cam said when she stepped into the loft.

  Blair leaned against the arm of her leather sofa, regarding Cam carefully. Cam hadn't moved once the door was closed, and her hands were in her pockets. She definitely had her game face on.

  "You know," Blair said quietly. "I haven't touched you in almost a day. I don't think I have the energy to fight."

  Cam sighed and took her hands from her pockets. She shrugged out of her blazer and released the buckle on her shoulder harness, easing it off her still sore right shoulder and placing it with her jacket. As she walked the few steps toward Blair, she pulled her shirt from beneath the waistband of her trousers. She didn't stop moving when she reached Blair, but put one thigh between Blair's legs and a hand behind her back and tumbled her over the arm of the plush leather sofa onto the seat. Cam ended up on top of her, and pushed herself up with her good arm so she could see Blair's face. Her voice was slow and deep when she said, "You can touch me now."

  Blair slid both hands under the tail of Cam's shirt and raked her nails up Cam's sides, drawing a swift gasp from her. When she found her breasts, she caressed them softly, then tightened her fingers on Cam's small, hard nipples. Cam closed her eyes and groaned. Blair kept up the rhythm, squeeze and release, squeeze and release, until Cam was stiff with the pleasure-pain of it and trembling.

  Their legs were entwined, and Blair felt Cam's heat against her thigh even as she felt her own arousal soaking into her jeans. When Cam lowered her head and caught the tender skin at the base of her neck between her teeth, Blair cried out once, sharply, and then managed to speak. "Bedroom. Bed. I need you naked on me."

  Cam could hear her, but the words weren't registering as she thrust her hips faster into Blair's. After they had been apart it was always like this. She couldn't control the rocketing surge of excitement that brought her too high too fast, until she was teetering on the brink and ready to go off in seconds. She was ready now, she could feel it curling in the base of her spine, tingling down her legs, cramping in her muscles. Oh yeah, she was going off soon.

  Blair pushed Cam's hips away, breaking their contact, dragging Cam back from the edge. Cam gasped, lowering her forehead to Blair's chest, shuddering uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she groaned. "I can't hold it back."

  Blair eased away from her, one hand caressing the damp strands of hair at the back of her neck. "Yes, you can," she crooned softly. "Remember, you're a Secret Service agent."

  Cam laughed shakily and sat up, her hands falling open by her sides, her shirt open, her body on fire and glistening with sweat. "I'm afraid I'm compromised."

  "Just the way I like you." Blair held out her hand, her color high and her eyes blazing. "Let's go do that some more."

  By the time they reached the bedroom, Cam had regained a slim thread of control and managed to undress and lie down next to her.

  "Let me just touch you for a minute," Cam said, her voice still unsteady. "I don't trust myself just yet and I don't want to come right away."

  "It's a tough order to follow, but I'll try," Blair said with a smile.

  Cam started at her shoulders and ran her hands down Blair's body, watching in wonder as the fine muscles shimmered under her fingertips and the blood rose to warm the skin beneath her hands. Blair's breath came fast, and every now and then a small sound of pleasure escaped her. When Cam trailed her fingers lightly up the inside of Blair's thigh, Blair arched her hips and the fingers she had laced through Cam's hair trembled with urgency.

  "You have the sweetest touch," Blair whispered, her voice choked with need.

  Cam was barely breathing. Every time they were together like this the pleasure was so intense, she felt like she was bleeding. She had never felt so vulnerable nor so helpless nor so blessed. It was almost more than she could tolerate. She slid one finger between Blair's legs, tracing the delicate folds and swollen ridges. Blair's pulse raced against her fingertips, and when she brushed lightly along the underside of her clitoris, Blair jerked in her arms. Cam circled her harder and put her mouth to Blair's, wanting her breath, wanting her blood, wanting all of her.

  Blair wrapped her a
rms around Cam's shoulders, pressing her breasts to Cam's chest, clinging to her, desperate for the sweet release. She rocked her hips faster against Cam's hand, knowing she would come any second.

  Cam felt Blair's heart hammer against her own and sensed the rising tension in her body. When she knew Blair was there, she lifted her lips from Blair's and said softly against her ear, "Touch me now."

  Ready to explode, Blair reached for her blindly, and when she found her - hard and swollen and so ready - she couldn't stop her own momentum. Even as it began, wrenching through her, forcing her almost double with the clench of muscles deep inside, she pressed her fingers along Cam's length the way she knew Cam needed it. Cam jerked and groaned and came with her.

  Then they held one another and rested.

  Chapter thirty-four

  Cam slept, her head on Blair's chest. Blair ran her fingers absently through Cam's hair, marveling at the sensation of being able to hold her. One floor below them a dramatic tableau played out, but here, for the moment, all that mattered to her was the woman in her arms. It was unnerving, and more than a little terrifying.

  She had spent most of her life surrounded by people, alone. She had learned to ignore the isolation and had discovered in her solitude the creative insight that inspired her art. Her work centered and defined her, and she would not change that. But each time she opened herself a little more to Cameron, she discovered another place in herself, another dimension of emotion. What frightened her most was knowing that without Cam, those places would ache - empty and waiting - a deadly wound she would never be able to heal. She shivered and held Cam closer.

  "Are you cold?" Cam murmured.

  "No," Blair said, her voice still unsteady. Loving was a dangerous thing, the cost so high, and she struggled not to flee.

  Cam moved her hand from Blair's thigh, where it had lain since she had fallen asleep, and brought it to Blair's breast, softly caressing the firm warm flesh. She moved her head an inch and lightly kissed the tight pink nipple. "What is it then?"

  "Nothing," Blair said quietly.

  Cam nuzzled her face against the side of Blair's neck and whispered, "Blair." She kissed the curve of her jaw. "I love you."

  Blair caught her breath, trapped between need and a lifetime of denying it. "Cam," she breathed, amazed and still uncertain.

  Cam pushed herself up on one elbow, gently tracing her fingers over Blair's face and down her neck, finding in her unguarded gaze what Blair could not put into words. "It's all right," she murmured.

  "So you say," Blair whispered, wishing she could just keep her there, where it was safe.

  "I should go," Cam said reluctantly, moving away a little because the heat of Blair's skin was arousing her again. She kissed the tip of Blair's chin, and then her mouth. "I'll be back."

  "Good," Blair said softly, raising her head to claim Cam's mouth one last time.

  A few moments later, Blair sat curled up on the sofa in nothing but an oversized T-shirt, watching Cam pull her clothes into order and strap on her weapon.

  "Are you very angry about this morning?"

  Cam stopped what she was doing and looked at Blair, who still wore a slightly bruised and hazy expression from their recent lovemaking. She wanted nothing in that moment as much as she wanted to touch her again. "Probably," she said evenly, reaching for her jacket.

  "I thought you might be," Blair said dryly.

  Fully clothed, Cam regarded Blair steadily. "Then why did you do it?"

  "Because I thought it was the right thing to do."

  Cam blew out a breath and looked past Blair toward the wide, tall windows and the golden afternoon sun visible beyond. She forced herself to ignore her concerns and consider the facts. She tried not to think about Blair talking to him. She tried not to think about the fact that this nameless, faceless man wanted her, that he lay awake at night thinking about touching her, that during the day he set traps to destroy her. She finally looked back to Blair, who had been watching her silently and waiting. "You were right."

  She turned and started for the door and Blair rose quickly, following her. She reached her just as Cam grasped the doorknob, stopping her by threading her arms around Cam's waist from behind. She laid her cheek against Cam's back. "I'll be down in a little while."

  "Yes," Cam said.

  "It wasn't my intention to make your angry," Blair said softly.

  Cam turned and gently lifted Blair's face in both hands. She looked into her deep blue eyes and smiled faintly. "I know it wasn't, but I have a feeling that you would have done it no matter what."

  Blair asked, her voice completely serious, "Is that a problem then?"

  "Only when I'm not thinking with my head," Cam murmured, feeling herself fall into those eyes.

  Blair smiled, smoothing her hand down Cam's chest and hooking her fingers under the waistband of her trousers. She tugged lightly and replied, "Well then, hopefully we can count on that kind of problem fairly often."

  "Apparently that would be the case," Cam said, resisting the urge to slip her hands under Blair's T-shirt. If she did that, she wouldn't stop until she had her again, right there on the spot. She kissed her once, hard and sure, and then pulled away. As she stepped through the door, she said briskly, "I'll see you shortly then, Ms. Powell."

  "Certainly, Commander," Blair called after her, lingering just a moment to watch her walk down the hall. Then she closed the door and went to prepare herself.

  *****

  Blair sat at the long console table in loose cotton pants and an open-collared, pale blue linen shirt, flanked by Mac and Felicia Davis. Partially full styrofoam cups of coffee, long cold, sat interspersed with keyboards, headsets, and monitors. She stretched and sighed.

  "Tired?" a familiar deep voice asked from behind her.

  So quickly she might have imagined it if her skin hadn't begun to tingle, Blair felt the fleeting brush of fingers across her arm. She slowly turned her chair and glanced up at Cam. She smiled softly. "A little."

  "Why don't all of you take a break," Cam said to the three of them. "I'll have one of the FBI people watch the incomings for a few hours."

  "What did Agent Ryan say our approach should be?" Blair asked, ignoring the suggestion to leave. She, Mac and Felicia Davis had been alternating breaks and she was fine. "We should have contact any time. It's been almost twenty-four hours."

  "She said it was time to push," Cam reported almost reluctantly. What the profiler had in fact said was that they were running out of time. Ryan anticipated that he would make another strike imminently. His pattern suggested an extremely low tolerance level that was rapidly deteriorating. Since Blair had not been outside the building in over seventy-two hours, he was completely cut off from her. If Blair didn't engage him verbally, he was very likely to take action and Lindsey admitted that she had no idea what form that attack might take.

  Cam studied Blair, acutely aware of the faint circles under her eyes and the weary set to her shoulders. She wanted to tell her to go upstairs and get some sleep. She wanted to tell her to stay away from all of this. She wanted to tell her that this was her job and she would damn well handle it. What she said was, "Lindsey said it's up to you. She said follow your instincts."

  Blair straightened, staring at the monitor as if she could will a message to appear. "Well then, let's get down and dirty."

  Three hours later, it began.

  A001@worldnet.com : I've missed you. Are you hiding?

  NYC1112@freemail.com : I got your message. Let's talk.

  The four people watching the monitor held their collective breath. It was the first time that Egret had suggested a real time chat. If it spooked him and he terminated all email contact, they might lose their only route of communication at a time when information was critical.

  "Come on you prick, bite," Mac murmured. He rocked in his seat, his body so tense he vibrated. God, he wanted this guy.

  Cam looked at Blair, who sat with her hands poised on the keyboard, focused and
intent. Cam clenched her fists and shoved her hands into her pockets, torn between wanting him to answer and wishing he would disappear into the amorphous world of cyberspace.

  Felicia Davis calmly readied the back-up 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 cracker.

  Blair waited. She knew what none of the others understood. 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' arms. He simply wanted the woman that the world had made its own.

  She breathed out slowly as the lines appeared.

  A001@worldnet.com : Go to http://www.privatetalk.com/ , the game room.

  NYC1112@freemail.com : How will I find you?

  A001@worldnet.com : Don't worry. I'll find you.

  Blair didn't hesitate. She typed quickly, I'll be waiting.

  Chapter thirty-five

  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 was leaning her head in her left palm, staring at a computer printout. 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, she didn't appear to have a concern in the world. Except that Lindsey knew that she 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."

  Cam smiled grimly. "Will he show?"

  Ryan sighed, and looked back at the critical portion of the transcript for the hundredth time.

  A001@worldnet.com : Why won't you believe me?

  NYC1112@freemail.com :: About what?