Radclyffe - Honor Guards

The water, just barely warm, was cool against Blair's overheated skin. She rested her shoulders against the slick tile and looked down at Cam, who knelt between her spread thighs. Steadying herself with the palm of her left hand against the wall, Blair teased the wet black strands of her lover's hair through her fingers while anticipation coalesced like a clenched hand in the pit of her stomach. Lids nearly closed, she arched her neck, choking on a groan as Cam's teeth tugged at the gold ring piercing her navel. Cam's face swam before her eyes, her vision blurring with the rush of desire bursting inside her head.

"Put your lips on me," Blair whispered, but her words were lost in the rush of water beating down around them. She tensed as Cam's fingers spread wide on the inside of her legs, opening her. "Please...suck me." But the plea faded on a sob as her breath fled. She lifted her hips and tightened her grip in Cam's hair, sliding her sex urgently against her lover's cheek. "Oh God, I need your mouth." But Cam only turned her head away and licked the soft skin high on the inside of Blair's trembling thigh.

The ache inside verged on pain, and when the muscles in her stomach spasmed, jerking her forward, nearly bending her double, Blair gave a desperate cry. She drove both hands into Cam's hair and pulled Cam's face to her, forcing her lover's mouth against her clitoris. "Please...baby, please."

Cam wrapped one arm around Blair's thighs and took her the way she needed to be taken, using her tongue and her teeth and her lips to fire the blood and ignite the nerve endings that throbbed with wild desperation beneath her mouth. She felt Blair's legs tighten and her clitoris swell and knew she was coming. Only then did she push her fingers inside, driving her to a second climax before the first had peaked. When Blair moaned and began to sag down the wall, Cam rose, her hand still deep within, and pulled Blair against her body, preventing her from falling.

"Hold me, hold me," Blair sobbed into Cam's neck.

"I will never let you go," Cam whispered fiercely. Believing, Blair surrendered to her lover's tender care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

0600 05Sep01

Report: Strike Team Four. Departure confirmed: United Airlines Flight 93 from Newark. Destination: San Francisco. Target: Washington, DC. Tickets purchased at Baltimore/ Washington International Airport, cash transaction.

0700 06Sep01

Alone in an austere office in his rustic mountain compound, General Matheson logged on to the Internet and brought up a site featuring classic cars. He scrolled through the menus to a page displaying a '57 Mercury Cruiser and moved his cursor over the image until he found an html link, which he clicked to open.

Final communique. Four teams assembled and dispatched: East Coast targets 1-4 only. Teams five and six currently deactivated. Date confirmed: 0900 HSept2001. Glory to the righteous.

Matheson grunted and shrugged away a flicker of apprehension. There was no turning back now, even had he wanted to. These men were zealots and would not be deterred. They would strike, and he and his compatriots would take advantage of the shock and chaos to make their own voices heard. There had never been a better time for the Patriot mission than the present. With certain determination he reached for his cell phone and punched in a familiar number. The call was answered at once.

"Hello, Agent," Matheson said quietly. "You are green-lighted. Your team will assemble tomorrow."

"Operation confirmed?"

"0900.9-11."

"Very well." A few seconds of silence ensued. "I will assume command of the strike team. It's best if we terminate further communications.'"

Matheson hesitated, considering his options and the likelihood of repercussions if any part of the mission failed. It was imperative that he protect his organization to ensure the future of the freedom movement. "Agreed. Good luck and Godspeed."

0515 7 September 2001

Cam jerked fully awake at the first ring of the phone. She pulled her cell off the bedside table and sat up, opening the phone with one hand and flipping the covers back with the other. Her feet touched the floor and she stood, saying succinctly, "Roberts."

A second later, she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "No problem, Tom. What can I do for you?... Jesus, you're kidding...No, I understand...What do you want from my end?"

Listening intently, she made a mental list of things she needed to do. "Right. I'll take care of it." She laughed. "No, they certainly don't make it easy."

Terminating the call, she checked the clock. She had enough time to get in a run before the morning briefing. She was tired; she never slept well when she didn't sleep with Blair. And Blair had a busy weekend coming up, which meant more work for the team and more worry for her. She thought about the surprise call she'd just received from Washington and shook her head. More complications she didn't need.

"Christ. What a job."

0700 7 September 2001

"Good morning, everyone," Cam said briskly as she walked to the head of the table. "The itinerary for the weekend remains unchanged. Tonight at 2000 hours, Egret has the private opening at the Bleeker Gallery. Tomorrow evening at 2100 hours, the general showing. There will, however, be a change in the shift assignments for this evening. Please see Mac at 0900 hours for further details."

Mac straightened nearly imperceptibly, but his expression remained neutral. He hadn't been advised of any changes.

"In addition to the personal guest list, Egret has agreed to Ms. Bleeker's request that a small number of art dealers also attend the pre-show this evening." It wasn't unusual for dealers who represented wealthy clients or large consortiums to be allowed to preview the works before the gallery opened a show for general viewing. She looked at Mac. "Do you have those background checks completed?"

"I ran those," Cynthia Parker responded. She passed out information packets to each agent. "Bios and photos. Nothing tipped a flag."

"Good," Cam replied, flipping the folder open. She'd seen the list of names and had recognized two whom she'd met at her mother's shows over the years. "Just make certain you are all familiar with the—" she paused, staring at one image, "uh...the photographs of the dealers." Jesus Christ. The name below the photo read Valerie Ross. Carefully, she pressed her fingertips to the desktop to still the faint trembling. "Everyone else on the guest list should already be familiar to you."

Cam completed the rest of the briefing on autopilot and, when she'd finished, said quietly to Mac, "Wait a minute, will you, Mac?"

"Certainly, Commander."

Once they were alone, Cam pulled out the chair at the head of the table and settled into it, working not to allow her weariness to show. "I need you to rearrange the shift assignments for this evening. We need the entire team deployed."

"The whole team, Commander?"

"Yes." She rubbed at the headache beginning to form between her eyes. "Bring up the schematics of the area for a two-block radius, would you."

Without another word, Mac plugged a video cable into his laptop and clicked an icon on the desktop. A detailed street map appeared on the wall screen at the opposite end of the conference room. Cam got up and walked to it, pulling a slim laser pointer from her inside breast pocket. "Call Captain Landers and inform her that we'll need vehicular and foot patrols here, here, and...here."

"Got it," he replied, although he didn't actually understand the order at all. Captain Stacy Landers was the NYPD security liaison with Egret's team, but local law enforcement was usually only deployed for large-scale public outings.

"Now let me see the gallery building, street level."