Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

Savard's eyes flicked to the apartment building across the street, but what she saw were the Towers coming down and, everywhere, the devastation. The defenselessness and horror was suffocating. Gasping, she whispered in a tortured voice, "I can't."

"Yes, you can," Cam said quietly, placing both hands on Savard's shoulders and lowering her head until their eyes met and held. Her tone was firm, yet gentle. "You and Felicia and I are going to do whatever needs to be done to take care of the situation. Paula is counting on you to handle this, and so am I. This isn't like Tuesday, Renee. We're going to have a chance to fight back."

"I can't take it." Savard's gaze wavered as she opened and clenched her hands spasmodically. "I can't lose her. I can't. I just can't."

"I know."

Suddenly, Savard jerked, and her tormented eyes widened. Her pupils, dark passageways to her own personal hell, flickered wildly. "Oh my God. Blair? Is she—"

"Pretty pissed off," Cam said with a tender laugh. "But otherwise, she sounded fine."

When Savard saw the pain shadow Cam's face and heard the tremor of desperate love in her voice, she understood that she was not alone in her agony. She drew her shoulders back and straightened. Her blue eyes cleared, and some of the color returned to her face. "What do you need me to do, Commander?"

Carp's expression hardened as she squeezed Savard's shoulders and then let go. "I need you to tap into your sources and get me as much information as you can about a similar occurrence yesterday at a government complex in New Jersey—the nature of the suspected toxic agent, number and type of casualties, whether any perpetrators took credit for the attack—anything. Get me that as quickly you can."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be back as soon as I have something."

As Savard turned away, Felicia stepped up to Cam with Valerie just behind her. "The bomb team is still outside the building, so I assume we're not dealing with explosives this time."

"No," Cam said with a quick look around. Seeing no one close enough to overhear, she rendered a rapid recounting of what Blair and Stark had told her. As she spoke, she watched Valerie's face, looking for some sign that the news of a biological weapon did not come as a surprise to the CIA. "Do you have anything to add, Agent Lawrence?"

"When is the team from Detrick expected?" Valerie asked.

Cam checked her watch. "ETA eighteen minutes."

"Let's take a little walk," Valerie said, edging through the crowd that was clustered around the command vehicle.

The three women cut briskly through the milling bodies until they reached the gated entrance to the east side of the park. Cam removed her keys and opened the gate, letting it swing closed and lock behind them. While outside the block-square oasis of trees and flowers and wending walkways the streets and sidewalks seethed with activity, inside the quietude was seductively soothing. Cam strode twenty feet down a narrow stone path and then turned abruptly to face Valerie. "What else don't we know that we should have been told? If you people put her at risk, I swear I'll make someone pay for it."

Valerie shook her head. "I don't know what we know and what we don't, Cameron. I'm counterintelligence, not counterterrorism."

"You're a spy."

"I'm a field agent," Valerie said with an impatient shrug. "I have a broad assignment to monitor individuals who"—she hesitated—"might have information of interest to our government."

"Which means what?"

"Which means that I have no reason to be briefed on whatever intel Langley might have related to what's happening here. Have we suspected that certain unfriendly governments are intensely involved with developing bioweapons? Absolutely. Was there an indication of an imminent attack within this country? I'm not aware of any such intelligence."

Cam impatiently pushed a hand through her hair. "Can you find out? Or is this information highway only running in one direction?"

Unconsciously, Valerie closed the distance between them and placed her hand on Cam's upper arm. Her face and voice were filled with sympathy. "Cameron, I'll do what I can. But you must know how closed the system is, even to those of us on the inside. There isn't a more guarded organization in the world."

"Try," Cam said quietly. "Just.. .try."

Valerie nodded, stroking Cam's arm slowly. "I will."

They stared at one another, anger and compassion warring in their eyes.

Felicia spoke into the gathering silence. "What do you think the team from Detrick will do when they get here? That building is a security nightmare now."

At last, Cam turned and looked through the treetops, their leaves a riotous palette of oranges and reds and golds, to where the sun glinted off the windows of Blair's loft. Despite the fact that the apartment was fortified like a prison, within those walls Blair had had a certain degree of freedom. It was the one place where no one watched her; the one safe haven where she could create her art. Now, she was about to lose even that.

"They'll move them. Then they'll quarantine them."

*

"What did Cam say?" Blair asked.

"Not much, because I don't think there's much to tell yet," Stark answered truthfully. "The team from Fort Detrick will be here soon, though."

"And then what?"

"I'm not sure." Involuntarily, Stark glanced to the far end of the room where the remaining canvases stood, imagining she could still see the white powder drifting on the bright early-morning shafts of sunlight. "I guess it depends on what they think it is."

Blair glanced over to where the male Secret Service agent stood at the window with his back to them, watching the street below. She didn't know him, and although she trusted him on principle, years of habit had made her circumspect; she hesitated to reveal her fears and uncertainties in front of anyone except those she trusted most. "What if they don't know what it is?"

Stark thought about the morning briefing and the possibility of anthrax or something far worse. Her stomach rolled, and she quickly suppressed the shudder of fear that followed. Her responsibility was to contain the situation, and although there was nothing she could do if they had been seriously compromised by some biological agent, she could carry the worry herself and spare Blair's peace of mind, at least for the moment. "I'm sure whatever it is, they'll know what to do."

*

The black van with the revolving red light on top edged slowly through the sea of bodies toward Blair's building, finally coming to a halt with the right front wheel up on the sidewalk. The side door slid open, and two men climbed out. A woman stepped down from the front passenger compartment. All wore Army uniforms. The driver, also in uniform, exited and hurried to the rear. Once there, he pulled open the

double doors and reached inside. With efficient movements, he passed full-body coveralls constructed of Tychem F, a material affording the highest level of protection against biological and chemical agents, to the three Army officers.

Cam and Stacy Landers arrived as the team members were suiting up.

"I'm Cameron Roberts, Egret's acting security chief. I want to go up with you," Cam said.

The older of the two men, a well-built redhead with sun-weathered skin and a military haircut, shook his head. "Sorry, Agent...Roberts, was it? It's against protocol."

"Look," Cam said sharply, unable to contain her frustration, "that's the president's dau—"

The only woman on the team, whose name tag read Captain R. Andrews, interrupted quietly. "We know who she is, Agent Roberts. Just as soon as we have determined the nature of the situation, we'll brief you. You'll be far more valuable down here in terms of coordinating the extraction and containing communications than you would be up there."