Radclyffe - Love & Honor

"I don't know yet. I just want to get a drink and..."

"Please. You don't need to explain to me, Ms. Powell. It's only our destination I have any interest in. Would you object to taking the cars?"

"I'd rather walk." As they spoke, Blair moved off down the path that cut through the dense shrubbery toward the street and the sidewalk.

Stark fell in beside her and pulled her cell from her belt. She spoke softly as they walked, informing Mac that Egret was moving, destination undetermined. Mac, she knew, would detail Hernandez to the car and eventually, wherever she and Blair stopped, the other agent would eventually show up. In all likelihood, Mac would order one other agent to join Hernandez in the car for backup. It was somewhat unorthodox to have only one agent on foot, but typical of the way they were forced to deploy with the First Daughter. Egret didn't welcome their presence and rarely made it easy for them. However, the Commander had made it clear that despite Egret's objections, securitywould be provided. Stark had no intention of leaving her unguarded, no matter what she had to do.

"Let's take a streetcar," Blair said impulsively, heading to the corner just as a car trundled up the steep hill.

Hastening to follow, Stark grabbed onto the rail as Blair jumped up onto the step that ran on the outside of the car.

"Grab on", Blair called, extending her hand and laughing as Stark ran a few steps alongside and finally caught her hand.

"Thanks", Stark puffed as she pulled herself up.Wouldnt that have been just terrific if Id lost her because I was too slow. Ive gotto start running. Pumping iron is just not enough.

Their hands touched as they both grasped the vertical pole for support. The streetcar lurched off and the two of them rocked back and forth, shoulder to shoulder, facing one another. It was the kind of thing that tourists always did, but Stark had never been a tourist in San Francisco before. It was the kind of thing that lovers did as well.

The experience was both exhilarating and slightly confusing. Blair Powell was a beautiful woman, and Stark remembered all too clearly what it felt like when the hand that was lightly brushing hers now had done more than that for the few hours they had spent together in a remote hotel room in the Rockies. Those hands had been accomplished and unexpectedly tender, and the memory echoed forcibly through her. Their faces were only inches apart, and in the flickering intermittent glow of the street lights, she could see Blair's slightly parted lips and her sensuous smile, and for a moment, desire twisted within her.

Quickly, Stark averted her gaze.

"You okay?" Blair asked, leaning back to let the wind course through her hair.

"Yeah, sure."Damn, when will I learn not to telegraph my every thought and feeling. Cripes, some Secret Service agent.

"Come on," Blair said a few moments later, leaping down before the car had even pulled to a stop. "This is Market Street, the end of the line. Let's walk for a while."

Stark glanced around and her stomach lurched. There were more street people than she had anticipated-a motley gathering of homeless and transients, many of whom were aggressively panhandling or standing around in groups of two or more. Definitely a security nightmare. She could only hope that no one recognized Blair.

"This is a bad idea, Ms. Powell. Let's wait for Hernandez and the Suburban. Itll only be a minute or two."

"Come on, Stark where's your sense of adventure?" Blair asked as she turned to her right and started walking southwest down Markettoward the Tenderloin and away from the relative safety of the more populated downtown area.

"I don't think I have a sense of adventure," Stark mumbled, hurrying to catch up. She lifted her wrist and radioed their location, grateful that Blair did not complain about that, at least. The Suburban, outfitted with everything they could possibly need, including automatic weapons, body armor and extensive medical equipment, would be in the vicinity in a minute or two. If they were going to walk, at least they'd have someone at their backs.

Chapter Seven

They trekked the length of Market Street to the corner of Castro. At nearly 11:00 p.m. on a Friday night, the heart of the Castro District was alive with activity. The sidewalks were wall-to-wall people-tourists and locals alike. Whereas once the area had been the exclusive domain of gay men, and somewhat clandestine, it was now much more upscale and civilized. Nevertheless, interspersed with the trendy restaurants and boutiques, the gay bars and sex clubs still flourished. For the next hour, Blair browsed the bookstores and bars with Stark shadowing her at a respectable distance. They didnt speak.

The first few bars they stopped in were relatively bright, airy places that catered to an upscale clientele. They stayed awhile in each, while Blair sipped a glass of wine or seltzer and pensively watched the couples or soon-to-be lovers dancing.

It seemed pretty uneventful and Stark began to relax. Big mistake.

Around midnight, Blair halted in front of a nondescript establishment that bore a simple hand-lettered, board sign-"Skins". From the look of the men and occasional woman entering, it was a leather bar.

Blair glanced at Stark. "You want to wait outside?"

"I'll come in, thanks," Stark replied, as if she had any particular choice in the matter.

As soon as they entered, Blair said, "See you in a bit." And promptly disappeared.

One look around the dark smoky club and Stark's stomach dropped. Visibility was zero, the music was loud, and sex was in the air. At the far end of the single square room, a small dance floor was crowded with bodies in various stages of undress writhing to a heavy metal beat. The unadorned bar along one wall was three-deep in people jostling to get their drinks. Stark judged that unless she stayed physically attached to Egret, she wouldn't be of much use as security. And staying attached to her was neither advisable nor possible. Deciding she had no good alternatives, Stark moved deeper into the room to look for a vantage point along the wall opposite the bar from where she could watch the entrance and still have some view into the darker recesses of the rear. It was the best she could manage. When she finally staked out a two foot square spot that would do, she radioed her location to Mac and the agents in the car. Macs blistering response did not help her nerves.

Blair insinuated her way through the bodies and eventually reached the bar. A few minutes later, beer in hand, she made her way to a rear corner where she could get her back against the wall and have a view of the dance floor. The crowd was almost all male, most of the men shirtless in threadbare jeans or tight leather pants that displayed what they had come there to offer. Here and there she saw a woman, dressed in denim or leather, too, and usually wearing a tight tank top like her own that displayed toned muscles and untethered breasts. It was a bar like dozens of other bars that she had been in, heavy with the scent of booze and sex and something dangerous. It was no different than it had ever been, and yet it was completely different.

The first woman to approach her was a heavily muscled dark-skinned woman with close-cut hair and a row of silver studs in her left ear. Her sleeveless black T-shirt fit her so seamlessly that she might have been naked. Sweat glistened on the expanse of chest left bare by the deep V in the neck, and her skin-tight leather pants outlined every sinew in her powerful thighs.

"Dance?"

Blair smiled and shook her head. "No, thanks."

Clearly surprised, the other woman cocked her head and ran her eyes slowly up and down Blair's body, lingering on her breasts before meeting her eyes again. "That's not the message youre sending."