"Yes." Savard met Cam's questioning gaze. Even with her face illuminated only by the streetlights, the feverish intensity in her eyes was clear. "Yes. Yes, I can do it."

Cam nodded once as they turned north again. A few minutes later, they walked down the narrow access alley that ran the length of the block behind Blair's building. The turnaround where Mac and Felicia had parked the Suburbans was littered with the detritus of a hasty medical evacuation that marked the spot where Mac had lain shot and bleeding. Where Cam had left him to fend for himself while she took Blair to safety. She pulled a small, powerful Mag-Lite from the inside pocket of her leather jacket and shone it on the ground. While Savard watched, she walked the perimeter of the scene and then crisscrossed the area in a methodical grid, examining every square foot of concrete as she moved.

"The team from Quantico has been over this, Commander," Savard observed quietly.

"Uh-huh."

At one point, she squatted down and brushed her hand over the surface of the concrete. The stain from Mac's blood yielded no answers. She stood, clicked off her light, and pocketed it. "Let's go inside."

The steel security door was dented and the brick surrounding it for fifteen feet was pockmarked from the storm of bullets Cam, Stark, Felicia, and Mac had fired at the assailants. Cam's gaze swept over the bullet marks, her face registering nothing, as she fit her key card into the lock. The door opened and they stepped inside. Cam switched on her light and played it over the stairwell. Bits of plaster, shards of metal, and other debris from the explosion one floor up covered the stairs, but they were passable.

"You go ahead." Cam instructed, playing the light ahead of them as they climbed. Their footsteps in the cavernous space were a distant echo of the automatic weapons fire that had followed her down the same stairs only days before. Once in the lobby, she walked directly to the spot where Cynthia Parker had fallen. Traces of her blood remained on the scuffed tiles. Turning toward the entrance, Cam assessed the distance and knew that the assailants' plan had included eliminating the Secret Service agent on duty Tuesday morning. The security desk where Parker had been stationed was too far from the front entrance for any other scenario to have been possible. Parker had been lucky to get off a shot at all, and it was a testament to her skill that she had actually taken down one member of the assault team. They had come into the building planning to kill her, and they had known exactly where she would be positioned. Fury settled in Cam's stomach like a stone. Someone had set her people up to die, and it had taken more than a rogue Secret Service agent to do it.

"Okay—tell me what you saw when you arrived. The position of the bodies, what type of weapons, the amount of ammo the attackers carried, communication devices—-all of it."

As Savard recounted her observations in a steady unwavering tone, Cam played her light over the area as if highlighting action on a stage. Once or twice she asked Savard to repeat a detail.

"Who has the tapes from the security camera up there?" Cam asked as she illuminated the corner opposite the front entrance.

"All the tapes are at the regional office."

Cam nodded. "I want them."

"Commander—"

Cam angled the light between them so that their faces flickered in shadow as their eyes met. "I'm going to run this investigation, and in order to do that, I plan on getting all the information there is, no matter who has it. I want you on the team."

Savard's lips parted in surprise. "But the World Trade Center—"

"Is critically important, I know that. And I know that you want to be part of it. But the attack on Blair Powell was a threat to national security too, and"—Cam shone her light on the dark brown stain where Cynthia Parker had lain dying—"this is personal. Parker deserves justice too." She studied Savard's face and saw her pale even in the gloom. She didn't have to say that this could easily have been Paula Stark's blood flaking like so much rust-colored paint on the floor. "They came after us where we live, Savard. We can't let that happen again."

"No, ma'am," Savard said softly. "We can't."

They moved through the lower floors quickly. The apartments were all corporate rentals and infrequently occupied by business executives in the city for short stays.

"We'll need a list of anyone who stayed here in the last year, and another search on all property owners. The FBI databases should be good for that," Cam noted.

"Got it," Savard replied.

In the command center, Cam halted in surprise when she saw all the computers still present and humming quietly on standby. "Who the hell was in charge of this field operation? Didn't they realize that our computers might have been hacked for some of the information the perpetrators needed to carry out their operation? They might have left a trail."

Savard shook her head. "It's been crazy, Commander. We haven't been able to put together a cohesive team since Tuesday. Agents keep getting pulled to different shifts, the SACs are being shuffled around and no one knows why, and everyone is paranoid that they were the ones that missed some key bit of information that would have tipped us to Tuesday. Especially those of us who were in the counterterrorism squad."

"The CTS was established to analyze and coordinate data, not gather intelligence. There's a huge difference, and we all know that," Cam said. "You guys weren't to blame."

"But that's not going to make any difference now," Savard said solemnly.

"No, probably not." Cam dialed a number on her cell phone from memory. "Are you still in the city? I've got a job for you.. .tonight. I need you to strip out the hard drives from the computers in command central and anything else that might help us find out what happened here." Cam listened, then laughed softly. "Low-profile...yeah, you might say that. It could get dicey. You sure?.. .1 don't know. For now, why don't you take it all home with you."

Cam pocketed her phone and grinned at Savard, a grin completely devoid of humor. "We have another team member."

"Should I ask?"

"Soon enough." Cam took one last look around, knowing that they might never be returning to the command center again. The entire security system had been compromised. In all likelihood, Blair would need to find a new home. "I want to go up to the Aerie. I need to see what kind of shape it's in before she does."

"Her paintings.. .I made sure no one touched them."

For the first time since they'd walked together like lovers, Cam touched Savard's shoulder. "Thank you. If you don't mind waiting down here..." She handed over her Mag-Lite. "Here, take this."

"No, there's plenty of light from the window. You'll need it upstairs. I'll be fine, Commander."

"You will be," Cam said gently. "I'll be right back."

Five minutes later she stood in the doorway of Blair's apartment, Foster's blood a Rorschach print of anger and regret beneath her feet. She looked into the loft and remembered the first time she'd stepped across the threshold and confronted the first daughter. Blair had been angry, aggressive, and alluringly seductive. Cam had tried for months to pretend that she hadn't felt the sharp spike of attraction the instant she'd seen her. But the more she'd tried to deny it, the stronger the attraction had become, and the more time she'd spent with Blair, the faster her attraction turned to something far deeper. Now, she thought of the woman she loved and the conspiracy that had been hatched by nameless individuals to destroy her, and she felt the mantle of resolve settle on her shoulders. Beneath it seethed the desire for retribution, and at the heart of her, a clearer, cleaner paean for justice. But what drove her, and what would drive her until the danger had been annihilated, was the pure and simple fury that someone would try to take from her what mattered most.

She switched off her light and whispered into the darkness. "You made a mistake when you chose her. Get ready, because I'm coming for you."

*

Diane Bleeker opened the door to her apartment clothed in the deep burgundy silk dressing gown that Cam remembered with graphic clarity. The subtly curvaceous blond with a mouth made for kissing smiled a slow, sultry smile as she leaned with one hip cocked and an elegant arm stretched out to the door. Her breasts slid under the silk like shadows beneath the surface of a still pond on a hot summer's day, and after one involuntary glance, Cam kept her eyes firmly fixed on Diane's laughing blue ones.

"Why, Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night visit?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call ahead," Cam began, then stopped suddenly as another figure moved into her range of vision. Another blond, this one cool where Diane was hot, remote where Diane was tantalizingly available, and one, Cam knew, capable of rendering a woman helpless with lust and need. "Hello, Valerie."

"Hello, Cameron."

Valerie, or Claire, as Cam had known her when they'd shared a clandestine relationship, also wore a dressing gown. Hers was black satin and gave her willowy form the glint of obsidian honed to a razor's edge. Cam felt the pull of a familiar ache deep in her groin, a visceral memory of talented hands and a torturous mouth, and she shrugged the unwanted response away with an impatient jerk of her shoulders.

Valerie smiled, but while Diane's smile was always playfully seductive whenever she detected the slightest reaction from Cam, Valerie's was sad. "I guess we're all a little surprised."

Cam looked questioningly from Diane to Valerie just as Diane cast an inquisitive glance at first Valerie, then Cam.

"Valerie is marooned here for a few days until the cross-country flight situation gets straightened out," Diane said. "She's, ah, using the guest room."

"Yes," Valerie added, her cultured voice completely composed. "Diane has been very gracious with her hospitality."

"I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time," Cam said to Diane. "Alone, if you don't mind."

"My, that sounds very officious." Diane's smile suddenly disappeared and she took a step forward, curling her fingers tightly around Cam's forearm. "Blair's all right, isn't she? I spoke with her on the phone earlier—"

"She's fine," Cam said gently "She's still at the residence."

"Oh, but I bet that she hates that."

Cam grinned. "You could say that." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Valerie studying her intently. She wondered what it was Valerie hoped to see, because it was no secret that she and Blair were lovers. What else was she looking for? "I'm really sorry to barge in on your evening."

"Believe it or not, we were on our way to bed even though it's only eleven." Diane sighed. "The last few days have just been... unbelievable. I'm drained."

"I'm sorry. I can come back in the morning and we can talk then."

"Where are you staying?"

"I was planning on checking into one of the hotels."

"What about your apartment?" Diane asked curiously.

"No room service," Cam said, seeing no reason to point out that if someone was watching Blair's apartment, they would be watching hers as well. For the time being, she preferred to avoid anyone's scrutiny, friend or foe. She'd taken special precautions driving to Diane's after dropping off Savard to ensure that she hadn't been followed. No one knew she was in the city, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"Then stay here, because there's nothing available in the city in the way of hotel space. Too many stranded travelers. The couch is comfortable enough, and I can promise you good coffee in the morning."

Cam shook her head. "I've already disrupted your evening."

"Don't be silly." Diane leaned up and kissed Cam chastely on the cheek. "Stay. And give Blair my love when you talk to her."

"Thanks. I'll just grab my overnight bag from the car."

Diane handed her a spare key that she retrieved from a glass bowl on a nearby secretary. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good enough," Cam said. When she met Valerie's eyes and saw the question in them, she returned her gaze evenly. "Good night, Valerie."

"Sleep well, Cameron," Valerie murmured before turning away.

When Cam returned to the apartment, she changed into a T-shirt and boxers and stretched out on the sofa. Then she speed-dialed a DC number.

"This is Blair Powell."

"Hey, baby," Cam said softly as she closed her eyes and imagined Blair's face. "I miss you."