Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“Is this conversation being taped?” Blair asked casually.

“Of course not.”

“No video cameras in here?”

“No.”

“Then do you think it would be possible,” Blair said, emphasizing each word, “for us to speak English, Lucinda?”

“The CIA has lost a deep cover operative and they don’t want the FBI or the Department of Defense to know about it.”

“Valerie Lawrence,” Cam said.

Lucinda regarded her steadily. “Yes, and I don’t think we’d even know about it except someone at Langley let a bit of a memo regarding the lost contact slip into the daily security briefing report. Averill Jensen picked it up.”

Blair knew Jensen well. He was her father’s handpicked security adviser, and before her father’s presidency, Averill had been attorney general. He’d also been her father’s college roommate. She said, “Averill would. He never misses anything.”

“Yes, and when he followed up, the lid slammed shut.” Lucinda lifted her shoulder. “I suspect the operative responsible for the information leak has been transferred someplace where the nights are long and dark.”

“So Valerie is out in the cold somewhere,” Cam said. “Are they trying to bring her in?”

“We don’t know. But we’d like to find her ourselves.” Lucinda crossed her legs and folded her hands loosely in her lap. Relaxed. Friendly. “You know her, Cam. That could be useful.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Blair said. “Cam and Valerie—”

“Have a history, yes I know.” Lucinda’s gaze never wavered from Cam, even when Blair stood abruptly.

“History, Luce. History. As in past.” Blair wanted to pace but the room wasn’t quite big enough for it. Instead she walked to Lucinda’s desk and stood there with her back to the others. She looked out the French doors that opened to the esplanade running along one side of the West Wing until the red haze of anger cleared from her brain, then she turned back. Cam and Valerie had once been lovers when Cam had thought that Valerie was a high-priced Washington call girl. “Cam doesn’t know anything.”

“Blair,” Cam said gently. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand.” Blair looked from Lucinda to Cam. “God damn it, I hate this.”

“It’s Diane,” Cam said, watching Lucinda. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Blair stalked back to the sitting area but did not sit. She slammed her hands onto her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. “Diane is not part of this. She was never part of this. She doesn’t know—”

“We haven’t been able to access very much information,” Lucinda went on in her conversational tone. “Averill wouldn’t have pushed at all except Lawrence’s name came up in association with the raid in Tennessee. That’s getting close to home.”

“So you want to know what Valerie knows,” Cam said, thinking out loud. She reached up and pulled Blair down beside her. “It’s okay. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”

“Actually, we want to know who Valerie knows,” Lucinda replied. “Because someone tipped Matheson about the raid. He’s disappeared.”

Cam straightened in surprise. Matheson was the head of a paramilitary organization that had direct ties with the men who had staged the assault on Blair in the Aerie. Possibly even with the men who had orchestrated the World Trade Center attacks. When Cam’s team uncovered his identity, she, Renée, and a handpicked cadre of covert military operatives, had stormed the compound. Matheson had not been there. “I thought the Company had him.”

Lucinda shook her head. “As far as we know, no one has him.”

“And someone thinks Valerie tipped him off?” Cam asked tightly.

“We don’t know anything. We would very much like to speak to Valerie Lawrence.”

“Who’s we?” Blair snapped.

Lucinda rose. “Have you two had lunch? I was about to ring for something.”

Blair closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is one of those times when my father doesn’t know anything, right? Even when he does?”

“Turkey clubs okay?” Lucinda inquired with the phone in her hand.

“Yes, fine,” Blair said. “I still don’t understand why we’re here.”

Lucinda gave her order to the kitchen, then hung up. “As I said, we—well, Averill—was able to access some of the information about Valerie Lawrence before the door slammed shut. They had tapes. Phone records. We have reason to believe she’s going to contact, or already has contacted, Diane Bleeker.”

“Diane doesn’t know anything about this,” Blair repeated insistently.

“No, she probably doesn’t,” Lucinda said. “All we need to know is where Valerie is. When she contacts Diane, we’ll know.”

Blair laughed harshly. “Diane will never tell you that.”

“No,” Lucinda said. “But she’ll tell you.”

Cam slid her arm around Blair’s shoulders. Blair pulled away.

“I won’t do it. I won’t do it for you, Luce, I won’t do it for my father, I won’t do it for anyone. I love Diane. She’s my friend. I won’t spy on her.”

“I understand,” Lucinda said. “Just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all.” Blair jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

Cam stood but Blair shook her head, insisting, “No, I’m going by myself.”

“Blair.” Cam tried to catch her hand but Blair sidestepped. “Baby, let’s—”

“No. Just—no.”

Cam watched her go, a sinking feeling in her chest. She reached for her radio to call the team, and then realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t have it because she wasn’t part of the team. “God damn it.” She started toward the door.

“They’ll pick her up right outside the office,” Lucinda said. “Give her some time, Cam. It’s been a difficult month.”

It took everything Cam had not to go after Blair. To trust that someone else would. That someone would keep her safe.

“Besides,” Lucinda said. “It will give us time to talk.”

Chapter Four

Blair yanked out the clip that held her hair at the back of her neck, letting her thick, unruly waves fall free around her face. She was aware of Paula Stark falling in behind her as she hurried from Lucinda’s corner office in the West Wing through the labyrinth of hallways and into the lobby. Once outside, she skirted around the circular drive toward the northwest gate.

“Ms. Powell,” Paula said, slightly breathless as she fell into step. “It would be better if we took the vehicle. If you let me know your destina—”

“I’m walking,” Blair snapped.

“Uh, yes, I can see that, but with all respect, we’re not prepared for street surveillance.”

“If you and your minions weren’t tagging along behind me in your shiny blue suits with your big-ass gas-guzzling black car, no one would even notice me. Go away.”

“I can’t go away. I’m sorry.” Paula was well aware that Blair could go unnoticed in street clothes. She had followed her into enough bars, and seen her pick up women who had no idea who she was enough times, to be convinced of that. Nevertheless, she wasn’t comforted by the knowledge that people might not recognize Blair when she wasn’t at an official function or dressed for a political affair. It was just as possible that unfriendlies were routinely watching the comings and goings at the White House, and right now, Paula didn’t have enough personnel to guard Blair out in the open. “Ma’am, this is not advisable.”

“I just need some air.” Blair slowed and met Paula’s worried gaze. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I can have another team here in two minutes.” Paula glanced over her shoulder and saw the Suburban following slowly behind them on 17th St. She held a hand behind her