Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

"The doctors don't know everything. Hell, they don't anything. If we have something, I don't want you getting sick."

Stark spoke up. "She's right, Commander. I'd advise you to leave."

Cam looked from one to the other and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her feet at the ankles. "Would you two like to be briefed, or would you rather try to throw me out?"

"You can stay," Blair said after a minute, "but no touching."

"Oh, jeez," Stark muttered.

"So brief us, Commander," Blair said, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"Captain Andrews will be here in a few minutes to give you all the correct medical terminology. She's on the line with the president right now," Cam said as she looked into Blair's eyes.

"But you know something, don't you?" Blair asked.

Cam never hesitated, because lying was not something she was ever going to do with Blair. "Yes. It seems that the preliminary tests are highly suggestive of anthrax."

Blair's lips tightened.

Beside them, Stark took in an audible breath and then asked, "Does Renee know?"

"Not yet. She's asleep, and I thought it would be better not to wake her. If you want me to get her-—"

"No!" Stark said immediately. "But if you'd tell her..." Her voice cracked and she looked down at her hands, struggling to push back her fears.

"Wait, you two." Cam continued in a steady voice, "There's plenty of good news. All three of you have begun treatment before any sign of symptoms, which means that you're very likely not going to get sick." She nodded toward the gauze taped to Blair's upper arm. "They vaccinated you too, didn't they?"

"Yes." Blair leaned forward, allowing her fingertips to brush Cam's sleeve. It was so good to have her close again, and she wanted so badly to touch her. She forced herself to stop before their skin made contact. She had to be sure that Cam was not in danger. "What's the bad news?"

"Unfortunately," Cam said with the first hint of frustration, "the incubation period is extremely long, especially for the inhalational form of the disease."

"How long?" Blair and Stark said in unison.

Before Blair could protest, Cam slid her hand on top of Blair's. Instantly, their fingers intertwined. "Sixty days after exposure."

Blair stiffened. "They're not going to keep us here—"

"No,", Cam assured her quickly. "In fact, Captain Andrews said if you're not showing any signs of illness—which you won't be—by the time the cultures come back, you'll all be released on medication."

"What about other people?" Stark asked, thinking of how ill Renee seemed already. "Are we—-you know—contagious?"

Cam shook her head. "Not at all. Person-to-person spread of the disease does not occur."

"So what's the bottom line here, Commander?" Blair asked, pulling Cam's hand into her lap and cradling it against her body. That was all the contact she was going to allow herself until she knew for certain that Cam was safe, but the firm grip of Cam's fingers around hers stilled the tremulousness in the pit of her stomach that had been there since the instant she'd seen the white substance burst into the air.

"You need to stay here for a few more days to be certain that the antibiotics and other drugs are working."

Blair regarded Stark with a vehement shake of her head. "I'm not playing pinochle with her as my partner."

Cam laughed. The last time Blair had been sequestered, they'd passed the hours playing pinochle. Blair had declared Stark the worst player she'd ever seen. "You don't have to worry about that. The only partner you're ever going to have, Ms. Powell, is me."

Chapter Twenty

Sunday, September 16

D im light filtered through the window in the door from the hallway into the room where Cam and Savard lay side by side on narrow cots. It had been quiet since the last time a technician had checked on Blair and Stark an hour and a half ago. Cam stared at the ceiling, listening to Savard shift restlessly in her sleep. Every so often she heard a quiet moan. When the moans grew louder and culminated in a sharp cry, she rolled onto her side and reached across the space between them. With a hand on Savard's shoulder, she said gently, "Hey, Renee."

Savard jerked upright, trembling as she fought to orient herself in the near dark.

"Sorry," Cam said, keeping her hand on the unsteady woman's arm. "You sounded like you were having a bad dream."

"Yeah," Savard said shakily. She had promised Paula she'd try to sleep, although she hadn't expected to. She'd stripped down to her camisole and panties after returning from her all-too-brief visit with Stark earlier, and looking down, she realized that she'd kicked the covers off in her sleep. With a small laugh, she reached for the sheet and pulled it up to her waist. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Cam dropped her hand and rolled onto her back again. "Couldn't sleep."

"I'm surprised I did."

"Having a tough time with that?"

Savard hesitated, but there in the dark, with a woman she trusted with her life, she had to believe she was safe. "Can't get it out of my head."

"Understandable."

"Working helps, but only for so long." Savard lay back down, gripping the sheet tightly in both fists. "And now, with Paula in here..." She heard her voice waver and break, but it seemed as if she were listening to someone else. The words kept coming, even though she hadn't intended them to escape. "I keep seeing things. Hearing things."

"When you're awake?"

Savard nodded, her throat constricting around the scream that had threatened to erupt since the first moment she'd realized what the plume of smoke high up in the sky meant.

"Renee?"

"Yes," Savard whispered. "And when I close my eyes."

"How much downtime have you had this week?"

"As much as anyone else," Savard said harshly.

"No one's been getting enough." Cam flashed on how she'd felt that morning when she hadn't known if Blair was hurt, or worse. The terrible fear. The aching helplessness. The soul-sapping powerlessness. She tried to imagine magnifying that a thousandfold or more and couldn't. "Both you and Stark need some downtime after she's released."

"No!" Savard sat up, the sheet falling away unnoticed. "There's work—"

"You're right. There is. A lot of it. Weeks of it, probably. And I need you both." Cam sat up and swung her legs over the bed. She'd removed her shirt and trousers and wore a thin sleeveless silk T-shirt and briefs. "You won't do me any good until you get your feet back under you. Where is your family?"

"Florida."

"Take Paula there."

"She won't go. Not now."

Cam laughed. "She'll go. And you need to see someone—a professional—to talk all of this over with."

"You know what will happen if wind of that gets into my jacket," Savard said bitterly. "My security clearance will disappear, and I'll end up holding down a desk in the middle of Kansas."

"Nothing is going into your file because no one's going to know about this except you and me. But I want it done, Renee. And you can consider that an order."

"A week. But I'll see someone."

Cam laughed again, impressed with Savard's toughness. "We'll start there."

*

"Have you eaten anything tonight?" Diane asked from the archway that separated the living room from the hall and her bedroom at the far end. Valerie stood at the open door to the balcony with her back to the room, a half-empty wineglass in her hand. It was after midnight, as Diane had discovered much to her surprise when she awoke from an unintended slumber. She'd showered hastily and gone in search of Valerie, wondering if she would even still be there and overtaken by a wave of sadness at the thought that she might not be.