"She would never hurt me."

"I know that. But sometimes we say things innocently, without realizing the implications."

Blair shook her head vehemently. "No, not Diane. She's known me my whole life, and she's always understood the security issues. Christ, she used to fine-tune my alibi in boarding school when I escaped from my security details to meet my girlfriends. She would never let anything slip."

"I'm sure you're right, but I have to check."

"Of course you do. And of course you have to do it all yourself." Blair tried to keep her voice light, because she didn't want Cam to know how very much she didn't want to be apart from her right then. She knew she was safe in the White House and probably anywhere else she might go with the heightened security she was sure to have, although she never really felt as safe with any of the other agents as she did with Cam. But that wasn't why she didn't want Cam to be gone long. The attack on the Aerie—no, the attack on her —was more frightening than she wanted to admit. Mere blocks away, thousands of unsuspecting, innocent people had died for a reason no rational person could fathom. She had always known the danger was there, lurking in the background like an ominous shadow, but this had brought her true vulnerability home with undeniable clarity. Life felt so very tenuous, and being with Cam was the only thing that made it right. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"I had thought a couple of days. But if you're coming up with your father tomorrow, I want to be there. I may come back with you, it depends."

"Cam, I'll have a full security detail. Why don't you just—"

"No." A public appearance this soon after the attack was ill advised, but Cam didn't want to say that, knowing that Blair was not about to change her mind. Frightening her would accomplish nothing.

"It will be a new detail with a new chief. I want to be by your side. I'll get the schedule when you're en route and meet your vehicle when you arrive downtown."

"Stark can handle it."

"I have no doubt. But she's going to have a new team. And I won't know them."

"If being with me tomorrow means you going back to the city again in a few days, then I'd rather you just do what you need to do and get it done. I'll be fine."

"It's not going to get done quickly, baby," Cam said gently. "That assault team was too well organized and too professional not to have known the risks of discovery if they failed. We're going to have to dig, and dig hard, to find out who they were. And even that may not tell us who sent them."

"How long, do you think?" Blair shivered, but the cold was deep inside. Despite her best efforts, not knowing who had wanted her dead gnawed at the edges of her awareness, threatening her comfort and peace of mind. But if the question was to go unanswered for weeks and months, leaving the threat of another attack hanging over her, her life would never be her own again. Nor might her lover. Blair feared that Cam might become so immersed in the hunt that she would lose her to it. "How long?"

"Weeks, probably months. You're shivering." Cam tucked the sheet around Blair's shoulders. "Or we could get a break and have an answer in days." When Blair shivered again, Cam pulled her back down beside her. "Hopefully, closer to the latter than the former. You okay?"

Wordlessly, Blair nodded. The course of their days, it appeared, had already been charted. As had so often been the case throughout her life, she had no choice but to commit to the journey. And this time, with her lover by her side, she hoped that she would not lose herself along the way. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I shower."

A half hour later, Blair walked Cam to the private entryway that the first family used to come and go without the scrutiny of the ever-present press.

"You'll call me?"

"Of course." Cam looked past Blair back into the White House. A guard stood ten feet away, staring in their direction but appearing to register nothing about their actions or conversation. She glanced over her shoulder to the expansive gardens, noting the distant sound of traffic. Her shoulders tightened.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked.

Cam shrugged and grinned ruefully. "We haven't been apart for a long time. It makes me uneasy."

Blair smiled. "Sometimes, Commander, you say the most wonderful things."

"I love you." Cam leaned forward in full view of the uniformed officer and kissed Blair softly. "See you soon."

Blair put both arms around Cam's neck and pressed against her. "Be careful."

Cam kissed her again. "You too."

*

The ground shook as a bomb detonated, and then she heard the thunder of incoming fire. The roar filled her head, so thick she couldn't breathe. She ran for cover, the smell and sound of destruction engulfing her. The air was a thick black blanket, nearly impenetrable. She ran blind, one arm stretched out in front of her, praying she wouldn't stumble down a dead-end alley or under the wheels of a vehicle. The whine of high-velocity projectiles assaulted her eardrums, and she knew with absolute certainty that she was going to die.

Renee Savard lurched to her feet, her weapon in her hand, and pivoted in an unsteady circle, searching for the enemy. She banged her shin on the edge of the coffee table, and the deep, sharp pain brought her fully awake. Still, the rattle of gunfire persisted until she snatched up her cell phone, its digital readout marking its place on the floor by the sofa.

"Savard," she croaked. The room was dark. The night outside the windows was black. She fumbled on the side table and finally found the lamp switch. The light hurt her eyes.

"Are you busy?"

"What?" Her blazer lay in a crumpled ball just inside the entrance to the apartment she shared with Stark. What the hell?

"Renee?"

"What? Who? Paula?"

"Hey, did I wake you?"

"No. I just...I just walked in." When had she left the search zone and come back to the apartment? When had she fallen asleep? "Sorry."

"Is everything all right?" Stark's voice was quietly cautious.

"Yes. Sure." Savard stared at her left hand. Her fingers were clenched around her service weapon. Jesus. Quickly, she holstered her weapon and sank down onto the sofa. "What time is it there?"

"It's seven thirty. The same time as it is where you are. Renee? What's going on?"

Savard scrubbed an unsteady hand over her face and took a long breath. She forced a lightness she did not feel into her voice. "Nothing. Just lost my watch. I'm always a little disoriented when I don't have it."

"You're done for the night now, right?"

Done for the night. When had been the last time she'd been off duty? She'd left DC before sunup, reported in at the local field office in Manhattan, and gone straight back to Ground Zero. Search teams were still scouring the massive area of destruction, still hoping for survivors even while gathering evidence of the unimaginable damage. She and her fellow agents were still at the stage of gathering physical evidence, and everyone was working frantically while trying to deny the devastating knowledge that they had failed. She hadn't slept in three days.

"Right. I'm off shift."

"Look, you sound really beat. Why don't you call me back after you've had a chance to unwind."

"No, hey. I want to talk to you." Savard struggled to call up the image of the woman who had touched her just hours before and made her feel alive, of the tender lover who had held her in the night and helped her forget the fear. Love and gratitude for that woman hammered against the wall of despair that had somehow appeared around her in the last seventy-two hours. She knew the emotions were there even though she couldn't feel them all the way inside. But she clung to the memories nevertheless. "How are you?"

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Come on, sweetheart, tell me about your day." Just talk to me. Just let me hear your voice.

"Well, I've got some news."

"What?"

"The commander and the entire team are under investigation for what happened at the Aerie. They've all been suspended."

Savard straightened, her weary mind suddenly clear. "You've got to be kidding. That's ridiculous. Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

"Not me, honey. I'm the only one they didn't suspend."

"Why not? I mean, I'm glad, but why not you too?"

Even through the phone line, Stark's voice conveyed her lingering astonishment. "I'm Egret's new security chief."

"Oh my God. God, Paula. Congratulations."

"I guess."

"That's incredible. I'm so proud of you." Savard felt it then, the swell of love and pride and tenderness, and close behind it, a rush of relief. Somewhere inside, she was still alive. "I love you."

"Oh man, I love you too. So much. I miss you."

"Same here, sweetie. I—wait a second, I've got another call." Savard looked at the number on the screen. "I'm going to have take this. It's a scramble."

"Okay. Look, call me when you can, okay?"

"I will. I love you." Savard switched to the second line. "Savard."

"This is Cameron Roberts."

"Commander. How are you?"

"Fine. I'd like to see you."

"Of course. When?"

"How about now?"

Savard pushed her fatigue and the pain of the last few days into the recesses of her consciousness where she kept all the other horrors she'd witnessed over the years. "Certainly."

Chapter Eight

C am slowly circled the rental car around Gramercy Park. Blair's building was dark, as she had expected.

"What's, the security situation?" she inquired of Savard, who had been silent for the short trip across town from Stark's apartment.

"What? Oh." Savard straightened and cleared her throat. "There isn't any."

"No one is detailed to watch the building?" Cam pulled to the curb around the corner from the entrance. "Didn't anyone consider that whoever ordered the assault might be just as interested as we are in what was left behind? Or that a second team might be waiting for Blair to return?"

"I don't know, Commander. I was pulled off the investigation the first day."

"Right." Cam fought back her anger at still further corroboration that this investigation would inevitably take a backseat to the greater threat of another terrorist attack. Added to that was the complete disruption of business as usual at the highest levels and the inevitable preoccupation of those in charge with what was sure to be a long siege of finger-pointing as to exactly which agency was responsible for the nation being taken by surprise. Still, seeing the clear lapse in protocol was a cold reminder that she couldn't count on anyone else to ensure Blair's safety. "Let's not assume that just because we aren't watching the building, no one else is. Is the rear door functional?"

"The door's there, but I'm not sure about the stairs. They blew the fire door from the lobby to the stairwell."

Cam remembered the thud of plastic explosives and the grating scream of twisting metal as she'd shepherded Blair out of the building toward the waiting vehicles. The men behind them had been so close, and Blair had been so vulnerable. A trickle of sweat snaked between her shoulder blades despite the cool night air. "Let's have a look. We'll walk south a couple of blocks, track back on Second Avenue, and approach the rear from the east."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Wait for me to come around." Cam stepped out of the car and walked to the passenger side, then leaned down and opened Savard's door. She'd worn jeans and a leather jacket to travel in and hoped that to anyone watching they would look like a couple headed out for an evening date. She extended her hand. "Just pretend we're together."

With Savard's hand in hers, Cam turned her back to Blair's building and walked south on Irving Place. Savard's fingers were like ice in hers, and she saw Savard shiver. Although the September night was chilly, she did not think it was the cold that bothered her companion. "The Bureau must be pushing hard on the evidence-gathering at the site."

"Every available agent is there."

"Working around the clock, I guess," Cam said mildly as she turned east several blocks later.

"Pretty much."

Savard spoke in a monotone, her usually animated expression flat. Cam resisted the sudden urge to put her arm around Savard's shoulders. Something told her the action might be welcome, but possibly more contact than Savard was ready to handle. She knew from experience that there were times when the only way to get beyond pain was to walk through it, unshielded and alone. "I'm going to need you to take me through the scene tonight. You were one of the first responders, and you saw it fresh. I'm going to need to see what you saw, smell what you smelled, feel what you felt—every detail. Can you do it?"