Cam held out her hand. "Cameron Roberts, Secret Service." She indicated Savard. "Renee Savard, FBI."

"Agents," the major nodded. "Flight time is thirty-five minutes. We're working off satellite photographs, but we've got a pretty good picture of the layout. We're going to put down right outside their front gate. I would imagine there'll be sentries posted, if the vehicles we've been able to identify there are any indication of their organization. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was a U.S. Army installation."

"Weekends are when these guys like to play soldiers. There may be a full complement of personnel down there." Cam presumed the strike had been organized so quickly precisely because it was Saturday and Matheson and most of the officers were likely to be present. "Do you have any idea of the numbers?"

Simons shook his head. "A flyby is too risky, because this place is well away from any commercial or tourist routes. Any kind of aircraft would be suspicious. The latest satellite reconnaissance images suggest thirty to forty individuals."

Cam's head count of the troops on the Little Birds put their number at somewhere around twenty-four. Pretty good odds. "If he's there, we need their commanding officer alive."

The major's eyes were flat black disks, devoid of expression. "Then I guess he'd better not put up a fight."

"Do you have any idea where the command center is?"

"Nope. Except for the fact that there's only one main structure right in the center of the compound. That's probably the headquarters, with a lot of little buildings around the perimeter that are most likely sleeping quarters. I would imagine your man's going to be at the big house."

"Most likely." Cam regarded him steadily. She had a feeling that Matheson would not surrender easily, and that if given the opportunity, he would organize his troops for a firefight. If that happened, casualties could be high. She had no doubt that in the end, the special forces would prevail, but she didn't want to see U.S. troops killed, nor did she want to see Matheson die. He had information that was vital to future security. And as much as she might like to extract justice from him personally, she had a greater goal in mind. He had to be taken quickly in the first wave. "What's the chance you can put our bird right down on his front porch?"

Major Simons studied her, then flicked his gaze to Savard. "Why don't I ride with you two and we'll see what we can do about that." He crab-walked to the door and jumped down to the ground, turning to look back inside once he landed. "Let me brief the team leaders, and then I'll be back with the rest of our team."

"Commander," Savard said when Simons was out of earshot, "what happened to our rear-action orders?"

"I figure as long as we're standing behind him and his men, that's the rear." Cam watched the soldiers confer. "And our agenda is slightly different than theirs. I want Matheson alive so we can put him in a room—a very small room—so we can question him. I don't care how long it -takes, but he'll stay there until he breaks. I want to know who else we have to worry about in the future. Which of my people," she looked at Savard, "or your people, are like Foster—working beside us every day and just waiting for orders to move against us."

"I want to be in there with you," Savard said fiercely.

Simons walked toward them with three Delta Force commandos.

"Stay by my side when we land," Cam said.

"Yes, ma'am." Of one thing Savard was certain. She wasn't going to let anything happen to Cameron Roberts.

*

When Diane turned off the shower, she heard her cell phone ringing. She'd left it on the bathroom counter with her cosmetics bag. She stepped out, grasped a bath sheet in one hand, and picked up her phone with the other. She did not recognize the number and thought about letting it go to voicemail. On the final ring, something told her to answer, and she flipped it open. "Diane Bleeker."

"I'm on a pay phone. I only have a minute."

There was static on the line, but the connection was clear enough for her to hear the unmistakable sound of an airplane taking off. She tried to keep her voice steady as her entire body tingled. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I wanted to say I'm sorry about this morning."

"Where are you?"

There was no immediate response, but Diane had the sense that she shouldn't speak her name. She waited, her stomach tight with anticipation.

"Dulles." There was the sound of a deep breath, then the hurried words, "Everything was set in motion long before I fell in love with you. The only way I could keep your name out of things was to follow the plan."

Diane tried not to be distracted by the phrase fell in love with you, but the wild beating of her heart made it difficult for her to think. "Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you."

"What do you mean, 'keep me out of things'?" Diane felt the pressure of the seconds ticking away and desperately wanted to understand.

"Who we're personally involved with—it's a matter of security. They'll watch you, Diane. Your privacy will be gone. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Then tell me why you did it."

Her voice came through the line muffled, as if by unshed tears. "I couldn't help it. I needed you. I need you."

Diane closed her eyes. She felt their bodies soar together, their breath mingling, their souls surrendering as one. "Then I'm here."

"Do you understand what that means?"

"I do. I don't care."

"I have to go." A beat. Two. "I love you so very much."

The line went silent, but the words echoed in her heart. I love you too.

*

From the air, the access road through the dense green forest looked like a snake slithering through the grass. If she hadn't known it was there, Cam didn't think she would have recognized it for what it was—a single-track dirt road leading five miles into an unpopulated and undeveloped region of the Appalachians that bordered Virginia and Tennessee. As they descended, she focused the binoculars Major Simons had provided her on a tiny patch of tan that stood out amidst the confluence of green. After a few seconds, she nudged Simons's shoulder and pointed, mouthing the words, Fire tower.

He followed her direction and nodded. Then he climbed forward, pointed to the pilot, and spoke into his throat mike. The helicopters veered north to circle around what might be a lookout post. Cam doubted it would make much difference, but minimizing advance notice could only help. She glanced across the aisle to Savard, who looked composed, almost meditative. She almost would have preferred that Savard look a little jumpy. Sun Tzu said that the greatest warriors did not fear death and, therefore, did not hesitate in battle. On this particular day, Cam wanted a little bit of hesitation on Savard's part. If she got hurt, Stark would have a hard time handling it. So would she. She'd just have to see that nothing happened to Savard.

*

Felicia walked out onto the deck. "Do we know anything yet?"

"Holding pattern," Stark said. She nodded toward Blair. "But it's possible that Ms. Powell may have something for us in an hour or so."

Felicia raised an eyebrow.

"I spoke with Lucinda Washburn not long ago," Blair explained. "She promised to give me an update, but you know how information is handled at that level. It may or may not be the whole story." She shrugged. "Usually, Lucinda tells it to me straight. I could call my father, but..." She considered what Cam had told her earlier about the layers of protection around her father when these kinds of operations were underway. Her lover was willing to risk her life for concepts as hard to define as honor and patriotism. Blair was not willing to compromise those ideals by asking her father for the details. He might very well tell her, because he loved her, and that was something that she could not ask him to do. He was more than her father. He was the president of the United States. Sometimes, she didn't want to think about that, because it frightened her that there were people who wished him harm. It also overwhelmed her when she considered the magnitude of his importance to the world. He was the man who had held out his arms to catch her when she took her first steps, lest she fall. He was the man who had swung her up to his shoulders to watch the Fourth of July parades when she was too small to see through the crowds. He was the man whose opinion mattered to her more than any person's in the world, except Cam's. But despite all of that, he was also the man whose responsibilities set him apart from everyone else, even her. She shrugged again and tossed the dregs of her coffee over the railing. "Maybe Cam or Savard will call soon and fill us in."

She turned and strode into the house.

Felicia watched her go and as the door swung shut, looked back to Stark. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Everybody's on edge, that's all." She hunched her shoulders against a sudden gust of wind and studied the sky. "I think it's gonna rain again."

"Maybe. The weather's really hinky out here in the middle of the ocean." She squeezed Stark's shoulder. "Why don't you go on in. I'll stand watch out here for a while. I've been cooped up in that damn building for days staring at the monitor—I can handle a little fresh air."

"What do you think is going on with Valerie?"

"Ah, God. I think the CIA wanted to know what we found before anyone else." She buttoned the top button of her navy wool pea jacket as the wind picked up. "She helped break the case open for us. We'd have arrived at the same place eventually, but she helped get us there sooner."

"I was thinking the same thing," Stark admitted reluctantly. "You know, sometimes we don't have a lot of choices."

"I have a feeling no one really knows what's happening minute to minute these days in terms of our security network," Felicia said, her expression uneasy. "I'm glad we're here and that Egret is out of things for a while. They're keeping the vice president under wraps somewhere too. Probably smart. I'm glad I'm not on the president's detail."

Paula snorted. "Yeah. They probably want to keep him in the underground bunker, and knowing President Powell, he's not going to go for that."

"No. That's why I can't be too angry with Valerie. Every day we get closer to these guys, we cut the risk of something really bad happening again."

"So maybe it all evens out in the end?"

Felicia wrapped her arms around her body, wishing, not for the first time, that Mac were with them. "I hope so."

*

The four helicopters descended in a ring toward the compound. As the layout of the camp became more distinct, Cam noted that the trees had been clear-cut for a hundred yards around the fenced perimeter and the ground bulldozed flat. There appeared to be guard posts on either side of the main entrance, which was barricaded by a double swinging gate. A ground approach, even if they'd had armored jeeps, would have been ill-advised because of the absence of cover. As it was, the helicopters would have to deliver the troops right into the heart of the compound.

Simons's voice came through the powerful loudspeaker in their helicopter. "This is the United States Army. All personnel in the compound, assemble on the parade grounds. This is the United States Army. Surrender your weapons and assemble on the parade grounds. This is the United States..."

As the message repeated, Cam quickly scanned the open area between the main building and several smaller ones that probably served as the training grounds. At least a dozen men in fatigues hurried from the buildings. The helicopter to the right of hers, which she could see through the open door, zigzagged sharply away. Through her earphones she heard Simons shout, "The idiots are firing on us. Take us down! Take us down!"

The helicopter dropped precipitously, and Cam was thrown back against the inside wall. Across from her, Savard appeared eerily calm.

"All troops, prepare to jump," Simons commanded. "I want these birds back up in the air as soon as we hit the ground."

Cam drew her weapon and glanced at Savard once more before getting in line behind the two Delta commandos who crouched in the open doorway, waiting to drop the last ten feet into the hot zone.

Chapter Thirty-One

C am was grateful for the enormous clouds of dust that the helicopters lacked up from the hard-packed earth of the parade grounds. At least the impromptu sandstorm afforded them a few seconds of cover as they prepared to drop into the fire zone. She put her hand on Savard's back and leaned close to her. "Go first. I'll provide covering fire. Take cover anywhere you can, but try to follow the front men."