Radclyffe - Honor Bound

Lindsey pointed to the last line. "Here's the problem part. Until this point, 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 threateningher ?"

Lindsey hesitated. "Probably. 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."

Cam pulled out the chair next to her and sat, rubbing her eyes. "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 quietly. "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 her, 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?" 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. Heneeds 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."

10:30

Stark found her in the workout room down the hall from the command center. She was wearing black lycra shorts and a sports bra and she was punching 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, was it 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 her standing there, an expression on her face that would have surely made her blush if she'd seen herself. She smiled as she 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 her.

"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.

Savard stepped back a pace and looked at her. "You okay?" she said, her voice surprisingly soft. 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. "Does your head still hurt?" she asked even more gently.

"No," Stark said, not looking up, her head bent as she worked at the stubborn knot in the laces. "It's fine."

Savard raised the 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?"

Stark stood very still, struggling to express emotions she scarcely understood herself. "It's going to get hectic later. I'll be in one of the back-up cars. I probably won't see you alone again before you go."

Renee waited.

Stark swallowed. "I just wanted to remind you that we -- that later -- when you get back"

"We have a date. I won't forget," Renee said tenderly. 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.

15:30

Cam stood to the rear of the room, listening while Doyle outlined the operation assignments to the FBI, ATF, SWAT and bomb squads. The State Police would be assisting with road blocks once the assault and capture teams were in place, and their captain was there, too.

Eight hours to go.

She was there because she wanted to know where everyone else would be if things started to go bad. 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.

Cam looked at Grant now, and motioned with her head to the hallway outside.

"You okay?" Cam asked.

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 youthink 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 was supposed to be relaying her orders from a surveillance post on top of a warehouse five hundred yards from the contact point.

"I'll be on the ground with Savard, closer to you than anyone else," Cam said. "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," Grant said. "Thank you." She hesitated a second, then added quietly, "Commander, my husband's on patrol tonight. I'll leave his number-"

Cam interrupted firmly. "The only person calling your husband tonight, Agent Grant, will be you when this action is over. Are we clear on that?"

Grant smiled gratefully. "Yes, ma'am. Quite clear."

"Good, then go get some rest."

Cam watched her walk away and checked her watch. Then she went in search of Savard.

17:30

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?"

Savard glanced up at her and nodded. "Yes ma'am. Locked and loaded."

"Good," Cam replied, leaning against the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. "About tonight," she began.

"Yes?" Savard replied, studying her, noting 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 about that. She could go to Doyle now and tell him that there was a conflict in command, because she knew that he expected to control Grant's movements. 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.