Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

"Yes, ma'am."

"And send in an advance team to secure the lobby before she enters the building."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And the elevators...Don't forget she gets off last and that you need—" Cam stopped abruptly. "Christ. Sorry."

Stark's eyes never left Cam's face. "I understand, Commander. It never hurts to run through procedures again."

Cam let out a long breath. "I know you know the job, Stark. I, uh...she's just..."

"Yes, ma'am. She is."

"Savard told you about our investigation?" Cam asked, changing the subject with relief.

"Uh..."

"Don't worry—there's no problem there. I advised her to. There's no way we can run an operation of this magnitude without Blair's security team being aware of it. Hell, we're all going to be working and probably living in close proximity for the next few weeks, if not months." She inclined her head toward Patrice and Greg. "They don't need to know the details, but the basics will be apparent. We have to assume that Justice looked at the new team members thoroughly, but I still don't want to take anyone into complete confidence on this except you."

"I'll handle that, Commander."

Cam gave Stark's shoulder a brief squeeze. "Thanks. It helps that you—"

Stark's radio sounded and she listened for a few seconds. "Double-check the ID." She glanced at Cam. "An agent, asking for you." She listened again and raised her eyebrows. "CIA."

"Perfect," Cam muttered. CIA agents were notorious for not being team players. No one in the other services really trusted them, and with good reason. They showed little allegiance to anyone except their own director, never shared intelligence—and what they did share was always suspect. "Do you have a name?"

"Lawrence."

Cam shook her head. The name rang no bells.

"What shall we do with her, Commander?"

"Send her up. We might as well get a look at her."

Stark relayed the message and signed off.

"Kind of strange, isn't it?" Stark asked. "CIA doesn't usually get involved in domestic issues."

"All bets are off, now. And besides," Cam said pointedly, "we have no idea what they might know about the situation that we don't. Let's hope we can work this street both ways and learn as much from them as they think they're going to learn from us."

"Now there's a plan I can get behind."

The buzzer sounded and Cam said, "I should be at the Aerie by 0830."

"Yes, ma'am. See you then."

Cam crossed the living room while the others continued to talk and opened the door. She felt a wave of dizziness, as if the room had suddenly spun three hundred and sixty degrees while she stood rooted in place. Then her natural instincts surfaced and she felt nothing but a cold calm. Valerie looked different than she had ever seen her before. She was just as beautiful—dressed just as elegantly as ever in a Prada business suit and low Ferragamo heels—and her eyes held the same glimmer of compassion that had always drawn Cam in. But this morning she wore a weapon on her right hip, although no one who wasn't very good at detecting such things would have noticed because of the excellent cut of her suit jacket. But the core of steel that Cam always knew Valerie possessed was very close to the surface now. It was evident in the way she stood and in the sheer power of her gaze. She radiated the supreme confidence that some agents had, but few deserved.

"Agent Lawrence," Cam said quietly. "Is it still Valerie?"

"It is, yes."

Cam glanced at her watch. "We have a briefing in twenty minutes, so if you don't mind, I'd like to leave the introductions until later. Although, of course, I'm sure you know everyone's names already."

Valerie's eyes skimmed past Cam to where Diane sat on the sofa, laughing at something that Blair had said. At that instant, Diane turned her head, a look of shock crossing her face when she registered Valerie's presence. Diane stood quickly and took two rapid steps forward, her expression of pleasure quickly turning to one of uncertainty.

"I just need one minute," Valerie said, her gaze still fixed on Diane's face.

Cam didn't need to turn to know who Valerie was looking at. "I'll say goodbye to Blair."

"Valerie?" Diane asked, her voice raised in surprise.

"I only have a few seconds right now," Valerie said quickly. "Everything I said to you was true. But there—"

"What are you doing here?"

"Just listen, Diane." Valerie touched her hand so fleetingly it might have been an accident. "I couldn't tell you everything before. I'm a federal agent. I—"

Diane's expression shut down, her face going as blank as if she'd suddenly donned a mask. "Never mind. I don't want to hear it." She turned abruptly and without a word walked past Cam, who was on her way back to the door.

"Ready?" Cam asked.

"Yes." Valerie watched Diane until she disappeared into the far hallway, then met Cam's gaze without a trace of emotion. "Let's go."

*

They'd been in the car ten minutes before Cam broke the silence. "Why did they bring you in now?"

"Since Tuesday, priorities have changed," Valerie replied.

"You must have been under for a long time to establish Claire's identity. I can't imagine they neutralize your kind of operative's cover lightly."

Valerie put her back against the door to face Cam in the driver's seat. "They don't tell me all the reasons, Cameron. But we all know how important Blair's security is." She saw Cam's hands tighten on the wheel, but continued evenly. "I know the players. And believe it or not, there are people who think that I can be helpful in the situation."

Cam swiveled her head and fixed Valerie with a cold stare before averting her gaze back to the traffic. "Well you know me, don't you?"

"You fell into the net by accident, Cameron. You were never an intended target."

A muscle in Cam's jaw bunched. "And I don't suppose you can tell me who you were supposed to be spying on, can you? When you weren't fucking them, that is."

"As you no doubt realize, my job description is counterintelligence, and Washington, DC is an excellent place to find out what our friends are really up to."

"Yes, it's amazing what you will reveal when someone's just fu—"

"Cameron, please don't," Valerie said quietly. "It was never like that with you."

Cam stared straight ahead. "Are you going to tell me that you never filed a report on me?"

"I'm not going to lie about that—"

Cam laughed bitterly.

"But there was never anything compromising in the reports."

"I guess reporting to the CIA that the first daughter's security chief is frequenting whores on Capitol Hill doesn't strike you as being compromising. Christ." She had to make an effort not to grind her teeth. "I'm surprised they didn't bust me out a long time ago."

"Everyone has secrets, Cameron. Sometimes secrets can be powerful currency."

Abruptly, Cam swerved to the curb and jammed on the brakes. She swiveled to face Valerie. "Was any of it true?"

"Every touch," Valerie said quietly.

Cam searched her eyes and saw the pain. She searched her own heart for the true source of the rage that had followed fast upon the disbelief at finding Valerie at the door that morning. She'd never been in love with her, but she'd cared. Deeply. And she'd let Valerie see things that she revealed to very few people—she'd exposed herself in her weakest moments.

"Christ"

"I'm sorry, Cameron. But I can't apologize for doing my job, only that I hurt you in the process."

"Right." Cam grimaced, thinking that she'd said the same thing more than once herself. "We're going to have to work together, and frankly, I don't trust you."

"Camer—"

"I don't trust any CIA agents. On principle." Cam grinned briefly when she saw a true smile flicker across Valerie's full lips. "But as far as I'm concerned, whatever happened between us is personal. That's not part of the job now."