Cam slapped her palm down over Blair's hand, pinning it to her chest. "I have absolutely no intention of having sex with you if your father is anywhere in the vicinity."

"Well,'" Blair danced her fingers lower to stroke Cam's nipple, purring faintly when she felt it hardening beneath her touch, "it's a big compound."

Gasping, Cam protested, "Not big enough."

"So you say."

0700 2 September 2001

Naked, Cam rested her butt against the sink in the spacious bathroom and watched Blair towel dry. She noted with satisfaction that her lover's breast was barely swollen now. "How's it feel?"

"Itchy. I wish the rest of the goddamn stitches would fall out."

"You're a terrible patient."

Blair cocked an eyebrow. "Look who's talking. As I recall, you had second-degree burns on your entire arm and shoulder and—"

Cam held up both hands in surrender. "Okay. Okay. You win." Laughing, she took a step closer and cupped her palm beneath Blair's breast, lifting it gently to peer at the suture line. "It looks really good. Just a faint line. Do you think I should—"

"Darling," Blair interrupted quietly. "That's my breast you're holding up for inspection."

"Is it?" Cam inquired, raising her head. The corner of her mouth lifted. "I hadn't noticed that."

Blair tightened inside as her nipple tightened beneath Cam's thumb. "My father and six Secret Service agents are waiting for us to go jogging. I'm not going to be able to do that if I get any more aroused."

"Oops." Eyes twinkling, Cam lowered her head and kissed Blair's nipple. At her lover's swift gasp, she chuckled and stepped out of reach before Blair could do damage. "I'd better get dressed."

"You'd better, because I don't care if the Joint Chiefs of Staff are on the other side of that bedroom door, I'm not waiting much longer."

Cam grabbed for the shorts, T-shirt, and jog bra that lay on the counter and retreated to the other side of the bedroom, pulling on clothes as she moved. Since their arrival, they'd spent most of their time in the president's company. He still worked for part of each day, but they'd taken their meals with him, worked out with him in the mornings, and spent the evenings together relaxing in the entertainment center. Although she and Blair shared a bedroom and a bed, they hadn't made love in the two nights they'd been at Camp David. In truth, both of them had been emotionally and physically exhausted, and it had been enough just to hold each other safe while they slept.

"Tell me you 're not ready," Blair said as she sat on the side of the bed to lace her running shoes.

There were some things that Cam would not tease about. She knelt by Blair's side and rested her hand on Blair's bare thigh. Her expression completely serious, she said softly, "I missed you so much this week. Holding you at night has been so good."

"Cam—"

"But," Cam interrupted gently, tracing her fingertips lightly up and down Blair's leg, "I'm about ready to burst."

Blair's brilliant smile flashed. "Oh, good. That's fine, then." She leaned down and kissed Cam swiftly on the mouth, then sidestepped her kneeling lover and rose agilely to her feet. "Come on, darling. Let's not keep the president waiting."

Laughing, Cam followed her lover from the guest room and down the hall toward the main living area. As she did automatically several times a day, she mentally reviewed Blair's upcoming itinerary. The president's daughter had no trips scheduled for two months, and the gallery showing was her only public outing for several weeks. That meant they were facing a relatively quiet period. Thank God. We all need a bit of a break.

"Good morning," the president called heartily. "You two ready to go?"

"Yes sir," Cam replied, falling into step beside the president on the sidewalk in front of the compound. Blair dropped back a pace to run beside Deborah Kling, the only female agent on her father's first team and an old friend of Blair's.

As the group moved off onto a dirt path that led into the woods surrounding the compound, the president asked, "What are your long-term plans, Cam?"

"Sir?"

"Are you a career agent, or are you considering moving into the private sector at some point in the future?"

"I haven't really given it much thought, sir," Cam replied, glancing swiftly over her shoulder in Blair's direction. Her lover's attention was on something the Secret Service agent beside her was saying. "For the duration, sir, I don't plan on making any changes."

"I take that to mean the duration of my tenure?"

Cam nodded.

"Very diplomatic of you not to stipulate a time frame on that."

"I have every confidence that you will be reelected-—"

Laughing, Andrew Powell interrupted. "We'll worry about that when we need to. I don't imagine, however, that Blair will want you to continue any longer than necessary in this particular line of work."

His tone was entirely conversational, and Cam didn't get the impression that he was probing for anything personal regarding her lover. Nevertheless, she replied neutrally, "We haven't talked about it, but she's sacrificed enough for the public welfare. I won't ask her to do it indefinitely."

"You mean she's sacrificed for my career, don't you?"

"Sir." Cam flushed. "I certainly meant no disresp—"

"It's Andrew, remember? And I know you didn't, Cam. And you need never apologize to me for loving my daughter."

Cam turned her head and met the president's gaze steadily. "I never would, sir."

The president grinned, and for an instant, he looked much younger. "I'm very glad you came this weekend, Cam."

"Yes, sir. So am I."

1100 02Sep01

Report - Strike Team Three. Departure confirmed: Washington Dulles International Airport. American Airlines Flight 77. Destination: Los Angeles. Target: Washington/DC. Tickets purchased, Internet credit card sale. Team en route by automobile to Silver Spring, Maryland.

Back in their room, Blair stripped out of her T-shirt and shorts. She reached for her bra and winced.

Instantly by her side, Cam asked, "Did you pull something?"

"No, it's all right," Blair said gently. "I think that problem stitch just got snagged."

Carefully, Cam eased the garment away from Blair's breast and drew it up over her head. After dropping the garment onto the bed, she turned her attention back to the incision. "Seems okay."

"I don't know," Blair mused. "I think you might need to kiss it and make it better."

"How much time do we have?"

"Time enough."

Cam pushed down her running shorts and kicked them off, then pulled her T-shirt and bra off in one motion. "Shower?"

Blair stepped close to her, the tips of her breasts just brushing Cam's. Her nipples hardened instantly but there was no pain, only the heavy ache of desire. "That sounds like a very good place to start."

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?"