Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“If she does, you’re not going,” Blair said, lifting the sheets.

Cam slipped underneath with a sigh. Turning onto her uninjured left side, she pillowed her head against her bent arm and smiled tiredly at Blair. “Let’s get some sleep, baby.”

Blair caressed Cam’s cheek. “Yes. You need it. And you’re still not going out if she calls.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you’re still not going.”

“If I don’t, Diane is either going to try to get to her herself, or Valerie’s going to risk another rendezvous with Diane. Either way, they’ll both be vulnerable if Valerie is a target.”

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

Cam smiled. “I know. I do it just to make you crazy.”

Blair kissed her. “It’s working.” She slid an arm beneath Cam’s shoulder and drew her closer, pillowing Cam’s head against her breast. “How are you feeling?”

“Not that bad. The ibuprofen finally kicked in.”

“Why can’t Valerie come here?”

“Because you’re here,” Cam mumbled. “Too hard to secure.”

“Why can’t she come to Whitley Point?”

“What?” Cam said, her mind fuzzy with near sleep.

“You said yourself Whitley Point is going to be far easier to defend.”

Blair waited in the silence, caressing Cam’s neck and shoulders. Eventually when she realized Cam was asleep, she turned off the light and closed her eyes. She drifted on the border between sleep and consciousness, some part of her needing to feel Cam in her arms, to know that she was safe. A knock sounded on the door, and she reluctantly slid from bed, uncertain how long she’d been asleep. When Cam did not wake up, Blair knew just how much the accident had taken out of her. She crossed the room stealthily and opened the door a crack.

“I’m sorry,” Diane whispered from the hall. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk to Cam.”

“Scotch, please,” Cam said as she eased onto a stool at the far end of the highly-polished mahogany bar in the nearly deserted Four Seasons Hotel lounge, just before 1:00 a.m. She was as certain as she could be that she hadn’t been followed. Assuming that someone was watching her building, she had left by the rear service doors and walked to the nearest Metro stop. En route, she’d checked carefully for a tail and saw no indication of one, but while she waited for her drink, she scanned the room.

At first glance, the area appeared secure. Three business types, two men and a woman, sat around a cocktail table near the windows discussing market shares and margins just loudly enough for her to catch snippets of their conversation. A lone man in a rumpled suit talked on a cell phone while he peered at a laptop computer and tapped frantically on the keyboard with his free hand. A fortyish woman in jeans and a sweater sat hunched at the opposite end of the bar, scribbling in a notebook and sipping absently from a glass of white wine.

Cam, intending to appear like a late-night business traveler, had dressed in a cotton shirt and lightweight wool trousers beneath a casual leather jacket and had exchanged her usual shoulder harness for a hip holster. She nursed her Scotch and waited fifteen minutes before calling the bartender over.

“You know, I must’ve gotten my signals crossed. I just got in from the airport and I was supposed to meet a colleague here. We’ve got a big meeting in the morning…”

“A lot of people come through here,” the stocky bartender said.

“We’ve never actually met in person. Only on the phone,” Cam said, as reluctant to give a description as he was to disclose anything about patrons. She patted her pockets as if looking for something. “Hell, maybe I got the time wrong. I thought for sure Claire said—”

“Claire.” The bartender smiled. “Yeah, she was here for a couple of minutes, but left when you didn’t show. She said if anyone came looking, to tell them room 418.”

“Thanks.” Cam dropped a ten dollar bill on the bar as she rose. “You saved me a lot of embarrassment in the morning.”

She took her time walking to the elevators, once again covertly observing those around her. Satisfied that no one was watching, she rode to the conference level and stepped off. She couldn’t access the room floors without a keycard and hadn’t planned to anyway. As expected, the foyer was empty in the middle of the night. She picked up a house phone and dialed 836.

“I’m here. Third floor.”

“I’ll come down.”

Two minutes later the elevator stopped and Valerie stepped off. She immediately pushed the up button, shaking her head in irritation as if she’d forgotten something. She did not look at Cam, who stood nearby. An up-elevator stopped and they both stepped into the empty car. Valerie, in narrow, low heeled black boots, a black boatneck sweater with a wide band at the waist, and flaring black silk slacks, looked very much as she had the first time Cam had seen her. Her hair was shorter and, rather than platinum blond, was now shot through with red highlights. Her elegant near-patrician features were strained.

The door opened on the eighth floor and Cam followed Valerie to room 836. Once inside, Cam removed her leather jacket and laid it over the back of the antique desk chair. The room was typical for the Four Seasons, with a king size bed and a formal sitting area complete with sofa, end tables, coffee table, and a minibar.

“Scotch?” Valerie asked, her voice as rich and mellow as the whiskey she offered.

“A short one,” Cam said as she walked into the sitting area.

Valerie poured an inch of the smoky liquor into two crystal rock glasses and offered one to Cam. “You didn’t bring Diane.”

Cam shook her head and drank off half the Scotch. “Did you think that I would?”

Valerie smiled softly. “No. I knew that you wouldn’t, especially after giving her the message that you would meet me here.”

“Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. I didn’t want her to come. I was calling her to tell her that.” Valerie sat on the sofa and sipped her Scotch, her expression distant. “I couldn’t walk out twice without saying goodbye.”

“Going somewhere?” Cam sat next to Valerie.

“What happened to your face?”

“Someone tried to run me down not far from my apartment tonight.”

Valerie lightly touched one finger to Cam’s chin, tilting her face toward the lamp. “Blair must be wild.”

“Good deduction.”

“If your face looks like this, I imagine the rest of you is pretty sore too.”

“You would be right again,” Cam said, aware that Valerie’s hand was shaking. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been more comfortable.” Valerie dropped her hand into her lap. “You know it wasn’t me.”

“In the vehicle that tried to turn me into road kill? I know. What I don’t know is what else is going on.”

“Neither do I.” Valerie shifted until her knee lightly touched Cam’s leg. “You remembered our system.” She smiled almost wistfully. “The first time you called the service and I met you downstairs in the bar, I was surprised.”

“About what,” Cam asked gently. She was in no hurry. There was too much between them not to let Valerie say what she needed to say.

“You were gorgeous. I couldn’t imagine that a woman like you would need to…”

“Pay for it?” Cam said with a sardonic shrug.

“Find comfort with strangers.”

Cam smiled. “We’re not strangers now.”

Valerie rested her fingers lightly on Cam’s forearm. “No, we’re not. But you don’t altogether trust me, do you?”

“I know you’re a professional and I know that you’ll follow orders. Your orders might be at odds with my mission.”

“You want Matheson,” Valerie said with certainty. “And so do I.”

“Someone warned him before we could get to him.”

“I know that. What I don’t know is who.”

“The leak had to come from you,” Cam said mildly.

Valerie sighed. “Yes. I know.”

“Your handler?”

Valerie looked pained. “I don’t know. I hope not. I’ve known him fifteen years.” She met Cam’s gaze, an apology in her eyes. “I’ve told him a lot in those fifteen years.”

Cam grimaced. “I’ve already come to terms with the fact that my private life isn’t private and hasn’t been for some time. What’s his name?”

Valerie hesitated.

“Jesus, Valerie,” Cam snapped. “If he’s not dirty it won’t matter. If he is, we need to know because he’s probably not the only one. Do you seriously think that Matheson could pull off something like the assault on Blair with only one contact on the inside? For all we know, he’s got a network. For all we know, he’s going to try again.”

Cam jumped to her feet, too wired to sit, and winced at the sudden surge of pain that sliced down her back and into her right leg. She barely bit back a groan.

Valerie grasped her hand. “Sit down, Cameron. You’re in too much pain to stand.”

“What’s his name?” Cam looked down at Valerie and at their hands, still joined, remembering. She had held this woman in the night. She had come in her arms. She had found some semblance of peace in her touch during the darkest hours of her life. And she had loved her as much as she’d been able to then.

“Henry,” Valerie said softly. “That’s all I know.”

“Fifteen years and you never tried to find out more?”

Valerie shook her head. “That’s not the way things are done.”

Cam gently released Valerie’s hand and sat down again. “I know. Do you think he’s the link?”

Pain flashed across Valerie’s face and was quickly erased. “I don’t know. And until I do, I can’t contact him or anyone else on the inside.”

“Where were you planning to go?”

“Just before 9/11 we began to see intelligence that there was an active cell in France, possibly Paris, working with other cells in Europe and the Middle East. They were rumored to be planning a coordinated attack here.”

Cam swore and struggled to keep her temper in check. “Why didn’t anyone else know this?”

“Cameron,” Valerie said with a resigned sigh. “You know how every agency guards its intelligence. And certainly those of us in the field were never told anything. I didn’t learn this until after everything happened.”

“When they sent you to work with us,” Cam said bitterly. She’d been used, and although it hadn’t been the first time and in all likelihood wouldn’t be the last, she resented it.

“Yes. They were hoping we might find a lead to the cell in Paris in the course of investigating Foster.”

“What do you think you can do there on your own?”

Valerie shrugged, clearly frustrated. “I don’t know. Possibly nothing. But if I don’t find the link that ties Foster and Matheson and the Company together, I’m never going to be able to come in.”

“Come in now, with me.”

“I trust you, but you can’t protect me once I’m visible. And we both know the easiest way to make this all go away is to eliminate me.” Valerie drained her Scotch and set the glass carefully on the end table. “Whoever tried to run you down tonight probably knows about our relationship. Killing you would cut off one more avenue of escape for me.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Cam said, hoping Blair hadn’t.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Cam laughed wearily. “For believing in the Company line, or for meeting me in the bar that first night?”

“Certainly not the latter. I’m coming to regret the first. I’m already responsible for one attempt on your life. I don’t want to be the cause of another.”