Radclyffe - Code of Honor

“Ms. Powell,” he said, “I’m Captain Guzman. If you’ll come with me.”

“I need to see Director Roberts.”

“Yes. Right this way.”

The captain took her and the others down a hall past a warren of small rooms enclosed with curtains to a windowless waiting area with a vending machine, a few plain club chairs, and a TV that sat blank and silent in one corner. The doctor seemed to fade away as Blair stepped into the room, but that might have been her imagination. The only thing that mattered was that Cam was standing there. Blair hesitated, taking her in. She wore a scrub shirt that said 366th Medical Group above the breast pocket and matching pants. She’d made an attempt to clean up—her hair was wet—but a spreading bruise shadowed her throat and a million tiny scratches marred the backs of her hands and her left cheek. Someone had hurt her, and Blair wanted them dead.

“I brought you a change of clothes,” Blair finally said.

“Thanks.” Cam caressed Blair’s cheek, kissed her. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m okay. How are you?”

“You’re limping.”

Cam smiled crookedly. “You’re very observant. It wasn’t a bullet.”

Blair grasped Cam’s shoulders gently, needing the solid substance of her beneath her fingers. She kissed the angle of Cam’s jaw away from the bruise. “What was it?”

“A splinter the size of a redwood. It went right through. They stitched it up. Ought to be fine in a week or so.”

“No other damage?” Blair let her hands drift down over Cam’s chest, felt the beat of Cam’s heart beneath her fingers. Strong. Steady. Her world righted. The terror that had haunted her for hours disappeared. Cam’s arms came around her and she let herself be held. She pressed her cheek to Cam’s shoulder. “Well? What else?”

Cam rubbed her cheek against Blair’s hair. Sighed. “Just some scratches, a muscle strain or two. We did some hiking to get away from the compound.”

“What about Agent Dunbar?”

“She got hit in the shoulder. They took her to the OR to clean her wound. She should be all right.”

“And the kidnappers?”

Cam closed her eyes, drew in the sweet scent of Blair’s shampoo and the summer rain aroma that was distinctly Blair. “We’ve got agents closing in on the compound from all directions. There was a firefight between the militia and a local biker gang. A lot of casualties. We don’t have a count yet—I doubt we’ll even have identification on most of them for a few days.”

Blair wrapped her arms around Cam’s waist and leaned back to study her. She was all right—she was Cam, resilient and sure. And very tired. Shadows deepened the hollows beneath her eyes. She took Cam’s hand, led her to the sofa against one wall, and curled up against Cam’s side. Cam needed to rest, but she needed to talk out the pain and fear too. She was strong, not inhuman. And Blair needed to touch her. Needed her above all else. “What about the woman who took you? The one negotiating with Lucinda?”

“I don’t know. She might be one of the dead or wounded. She could’ve gotten away. I’m sure some did.”

“You have to find her.”

“Oh, we will.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“I have a pretty good idea. I know she’s Jennifer Pattee’s sister.” Cam stroked Blair’s arm, held her close. “But there’s a lot we still don’t know yet. I don’t know where they came from. Or who the moneyman is behind it all. We don’t know the true identities of the FALA leaders. We’ve got a lot more to go on, and after we scour the compound, or what’s left of it, we’ll know more.”

“At least now you’ll have help.”

Cam sighed. “A blessing and a curse. The more people involved, the tougher the security.”

“I called Valerie.”

Cam laughed. “Well, now I know where the Predators came from.”

“We owe her.”

“Valerie won’t think so. But I’ll make sure there are no consequences.”

Blair slid her hand under Cam’s scrub shirt and stroked Cam’s abdomen. The hard heat of her was enough to keep her warm for eternity. “This was scary.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be. I’m okay.” Blair kissed Cam’s throat. “But I’m really, really pissed. This kind of thing can’t happen here. We have to do something about it.”

Cam spread her fingers through Blair’s hair and caressed the back of her neck. “It’s going to be a long war.”

“Maybe, but it’s one that has to be fought. I have to travel with my father during the campaign. You know, that, right?”

“Yes. You’ll be careful.”

“You think we’ll be targets?”

Cam’s arm tightened around her. “We probably all will be.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to be prepared for anything.”

“I love you. When I was out there, knowing you were counting on me, trusting me to come home—that made all the difference.”

“I love you too.” Blair settled her head on Cam’s shoulder. “And that’s what will let us win in the end.”

Chapter Forty-one

Loren paced outside the operating room, drinking a cup of vending-machine coffee she couldn’t taste, searching for someone who could tell her something. Hospital personnel she couldn’t classify streamed by, pushing stretchers, carrying specimens, talking in urgent tones. She was starting to feel invisible when a green-eyed blonde in scrubs who looked familiar did a double take and stopped in front of her. Her ID read Captain Gabrielle Hill . “Aren’t you supposed to be in the ER for observation?”

Loren shook her head. “I’m fine. I need to be here.”

“At least sit down. You’ve got a concussion. That is a bullet wound on your forehead, you know.”

“Barely touched me.”

Captain Hill rolled her eyes. “I so love taking care of alpha warriors.”

Loren smiled. “See that a lot, I guess.”

“All the time. Who are you waiting for?”

“The FBI agent with the gunshot wound to the shoulder. Can you find out how she’s doing?”

“Who are you?” Hill asked.

Loren didn’t have ID, but at least she was wearing the scrubs they’d given her in the receiving area and not her biker gear. Her jacket and pants had been trashed from tears, burn holes, and embedded grime and grit. She’d had to turn over her weapon to the Delta troops, but since the place was on an air force base and crawling with feds, she wasn’t too worried about safety. So far, she’d been flying under the official radar and hadn’t been questioned as to just how she fit into the big picture. She wasn’t exactly authorized to be in on this operation, but since Roberts knew who she was, she figured her ass was covered.

“That’s a tricky question. I’m federal, but I can’t prove it. I think Director Roberts will vouch for me—I came in with her.”

“I saw the three of you arrive.” The captain looked like she was waiting for more.

“That’s not what I’m doing here, though,” Loren said. “The agent in there is my lover.”

Hill nodded. “Wait here.”

She donned paper booties and a cap from a shelf by the OR doors, entered a sequence of numbers on a keypad, and disappeared into the hallway beyond.

Alone again, Loren watched the second hand on a round clock with big black numbers, visible through the window in the closed OR door, go around three times before Hill reappeared.

After disposing of the cap and booties, Hill said, “Come with me and try to look like you work here. Lose the coffee.”

Loren followed, dumping the paper cup in the first trash can she passed. Hill pushed the red button on another set of doors marked Recovery .