Stark crouched down in the aisle next to where Hara and Wozinski sat. She spoke quietly so the Marine would not hear her. "When we land, assume that no one is a friendly. That means medical and military personnel too. No one is alone with her except the commander."

The other agents nodded solemnly, neither voicing the question that was foremost in their minds, both wondering if the commander would be waiting for them at the end of their journey.

"Good." Stark stood and took a seat midway down the fuselage between Blair and the cabin door. She sat straight, staring directly ahead, with a death grip on the armrests. She mentally reviewed the things she would need to do as soon as the plane landed. She considered the positioning of the other agents around Egret and the fact that they would be understaffed for what had to be considered a significant security risk. She steadfastly did not think about Renee. She couldn't, because every time she did, a bubble of panic rose into her chest and threatened to choke her. And there was no room for it, no time for it, no opportunity for her to feel anything about anyone except Blair Powell.

So she didn't.

*

Mercifully, the jet landed at an Army base adjoining the hospital, and a jeep sat idling by the runway, waiting for them. Within ten minutes of touchdown, they were escorted through a rear entrance to McDonald Army Hospital. A muscular, dark-haired, olive-skinned man in his fifties, dressed in scrubs, met them just inside the doors. Incongruously, he glanced at Stark, who walked by Blair's side, and saluted smartly.

"I'm Captain Olivieri, the chief of surgery. If you'll come this way, please." He turned smartly on his heel and strode off.

"Captain," Blair said as she hurried with him, Stark on her opposite side, "we have several of our people who might be injured. Commander Roberts, Special Agent—"

"Yes, ma'am. I was instructed to bring you directly to the treatment room."

"If you could just..."

He pushed aside a curtain that enclosed the last treatment room at one end of a hallway filled with emergency equipment, suture carts, defibrillators, and other medical paraphernalia. "Ma'am."

Blair glanced inside and for one brief instant, everything receded from her consciousness but Cam. "Oh God."

Cam sat propped up on a treatment table, a pillow behind her back and an ice pack on her neck. An angry bruise on her right cheek extended to her lower lid, which was partially closed. Her eyes, however, were blessedly clear, and as soon as she saw Blair, she smiled. Blair smiled back, her heart lifting.

"Hey," Blair said softly as she started forward.

Cam looked past Blair to where Stark stood in the doorway. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Captain Olivieri said curtly, "No talking. That was our arrangement. If you try, I'll slap you in the ICU and put a tube down your throat."

Blair saw the oxygen mask sitting by Cam's right hand and realized that Cam must have taken it off. She looked anxiously at the surgeon. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Against doctor's orders, Cam forced out a barely recognizable word. "Star..." Her face contorted with pain and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes as if the effort had exhausted her.

Instantly, Blair reached for the oxygen mask and put it over Cam's lower face. "I take it she's supposed to be wearing this," she said over her shoulder. Her voice was steady but her hands were shaking.

"It's humidified oxygen," the surgeon explained. "She has significant tracheal edema from the blunt injury, and-—" He stopped as Cam suddenly sat forward and pulled the oxygen mask off.

Blair narrowed her eyes and followed Cam's hand as she pointed vehemently at Stark once again. Nodding, Blair said, "Captain, do you have any information on Special Agent Renee Savard?"

"Savard?" Olivieri looked confused. "Yes. She's in surgery."

"How is she?" Blair asked quickly, watching the color drain from Stark's face.

"She should be out anytime now. They're just doing a washout of the wound—"

"How about giving us a quick rundown of her injuries, Captain," Blair interrupted when Cam stiffened and made another abortive attempt at speaking. Blair squeezed her shoulder. "Stop it."

"She has a nonthreatening GSW to the left lower extremity. X-rays reveal no evidence of bony injury, but the orthopedic surgeons wanted to irrigate the wound and make sure the lateral collateral ligament had not been damaged. She should be fine."

"Thank you, Captain." Blair smiled at Stark. "If you want to find out where they'll be taking her, Paula, go ahead."

Stark clasped her hands behind her back and locked her knees, trying to appear steadier than she felt. She swallowed once and then said clearly, "Thank you, Ms. Powell. I'll be right outside in the hall here." With that, she stepped back several feet and closed the curtain, giving Cam and Blair privacy. There was no way she could leave. It wasn't even a consideration, and she knew that Renee would understand. Renee was going to be all right, and knowing that gave her all the strength she needed to be patient. She leaned against the wall where she could see the hall in both directions and took a few gulps of much-needed air.

"Now," Blair said to Captain Olivieri. "Tell me about Agent Roberts."

"She has a badly contused trachea and a fracture of the arytenoid... uh, that's one of the cartilages forming the vocal cords. She shouldn't speak, and by rights, she should be in the ICU on a monitor, because if the swelling increases—" He frowned when Cam made a hand motion, waving him to silence.

Blair turned her back to the surgeon and put her face very close to Cam's. "You listen to me. I want to know. And I don't want to hear anything coming from you. Not a single sound." Then, very gently, she kissed her on the mouth. Keeping her arm tightly around Cam, she looked back at the surgeon. "Go ahead."

"Ah—well, that's it really. Vocal rest, a three-week course of steroids, and a laryngoscopy in ten days to check for healing. I recommended twenty-four hours in-house observation, but—"

"I think if you give me explicit instructions, I can see that Agent Roberts is appropriately observed. Several of my security team are EMTs."

He looked sheepish. "Yes, ma'am." He backed up. "I'll see that those are typed up for you."

"Thank you."

Once they were alone, Blair pressed her palm to Cam's cheek. "Does it hurt, darling?"

Cam shrugged.

"The truth."

Cam grinned weakly and nodded.

"On a scale of one to ten?"

Cam held up both hands, eight digits extended.

"Oh, then, that's not so bad." Blair rested her forehead against Cam's and closed her eyes. "I love you. I can't take too many more of these scares."

Cam wrapped her arms around Blair's waist and pulled her as close as she could, sliding one hand beneath Blair's hair to caress the back of her neck.

"I know. It's a million to one chance that it will ever happen again." Blair snuggled against Cam's chest, wanting nothing except to be in her arms. "Don't ever play poker for money, darling."

*

Diane was waiting for Blair when she came out of the bedroom after situating Cam for the night. "Well? What the hell happened? Where is Stark?"

"We left her in Virginia for the time being. Renee is going to be in the hospital for a couple of days so they can make sure her leg is okay. Paula wanted to come back with us, but I wouldn't let her."

"Is Renee going to be all right?"

"Yes. The surgeon said nothing vital was injured, and her recovery should be pretty fast."

"Thank God." Diane took Blair's hand and led her into the kitchen. "Sit. I bet you haven't had anything to eat all day, have you?"

Blair sagged into the chair without protest and brushed her hair back with trembling hands. "God, what a nightmare this day has been. I don't think I can eat."

"Well, you're going to. Scrambled eggs with cheese and toast. Comfort food, and it will get some protein into you." As she removed items from the refrigerator, she asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"Cam can't tell me, and none of the medical personnel seem to know. I'll call Lucinda tomorrow," Blair said. "But right now, I really don't care."

Diane put the bowl of eggs aside and went to Blair. She leaned down and hugged her. "Neither do I. At least they're all in one piece."

Blair laughed unsteadily and rested her cheek against Diane's body, welcoming the comfort. "More or less."

"I don't suppose you heard anything about Valerie," Diane said softly.

Blair shook her head. "I don't know anything, sweetie. As soon as I do, I promise I'll let you know."

Diane kissed Blair's forehead. "Thanks."

"I did some thinking on the trip back here," Blair said. "I'm going to talk to Tanner about buying this place. I think it will be good for us to get away somewhere truly safe. Tanner should be able to arrange the sale so that no one can trace us, at least not without a lot of trouble. I'm not even going to tell my father where we are when we come here."

"I think that's a great idea. As long as that guesthouse has my name on it."

Blair smiled. "Definitely."

"Perfect. Now, about those eggs..."

To Blair's surprise, she discovered she was hungry, and after finishing the quick meal, she made her excuses and returned to the bedroom. She'd left the bedside light on, turned down low, and she could see from the doorway that Cam's eyes were closed. As quietly as she could, she started toward the bathroom, but stopped when Cam opened her eyes. She changed direction and settled onto the side of the bed, leaning forward with her arm on the other side of Cam's body. "Hey. You're supposed to be trying to sleep."

Cam patted the bed beside her.

"You want company?"

Cam nodded and grinned, stronger this time. She drew one finger along the strong line of Blair's jaw, then brushed her thumb over Blair's mouth. Blair smiled.

"Commander, don't even think about it." She stood, shed her clothes, and slid beneath the sheets. Gently, she eased an arm behind Cam's back. "Can you lean with your head on my shoulder without hurting your neck?"

Carefully, Cam shifted onto her side and settled against the curve of Blair's body. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Blair held her, wide awake. She didn't want to sleep, she wanted to—needed to—feel Cam beside her. She thought of her conversation with Diane.

"Does it ever begin to make sense? "

"Once in a while, when you feel her next to you, and you know that that's the only thing in the world that truly matters."

Chapter Thirty-three

Monday, October 1

S avard heard the sound of footsteps on the deck and watched the door with a combination of anticipation and uncertainty. She'd awakened alone after arriving at Whitley Point late the night before, having cajoled and badgered the medical staff into allowing her to leave the hospital twenty-four hours early. Paula had slept in a chair by her bed and had risen early to check in with the commander. She wanted Paula's company, her comfort, but at the same time, she wanted to be alone. She needed time to find a place for the anger and terrible disappointment that had plagued her since 9/11, and she didn't want to inflict her doubts and disillusionment on her lover.

"I've got coffee and scones," Stark said as she edged through the doorway with a tray. "Hungry?"

"Yes." Savard smiled. She couldn't help it.

Stark appraised the position of Renee's leg, propped up on several pillows on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

"It doesn't hurt much at all. Just a big old cut is all it turned out to be. If it hadn't been for the temporary shock to the nerves, I probably would've been able to walk on my own." She grimaced, still embarrassed that she'd put the commander's life in danger.

"You couldn't help getting shot, honey." Stark poured coffee and placed a blueberry scone on a paper napkin. She set them both on the end table within Renee's reach.

"I nearly blew the whole thing. Big time."

Carefully, Stark settled onto the sofa and laid her hand on Renee's thigh.

"But you didn't, did you."

Savard looked down at the strong hand. Paula loved her. Paula also was one of the few people in her life who could really understand what it meant to struggle against an evil so pervasive that the fight felt endless. Paula would understand that sometimes she just wanted to give up, to give in, to say it was all too much and to walk away. To have a normal life, where it was still possible to believe that the world was safe. She sighed and traced the tendons and veins on the top of Paula's hand with her fingertip. "It was close, for a while. I wasn't certain we were going to make it." She looked into Paula's concerned brown eyes. "For a while now, I haven't been sure I would make it."