Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“The CIA has lost a deep cover operative and they don’t want the FBI or the Department of Defense to know about it.”

“Valerie Lawrence,” Cam said.

Lucinda regarded her steadily. “Yes, and I don’t think we’d even know about it except someone at Langley let a bit of a memo regarding the lost contact slip into the daily security briefing report. Averill Jensen picked it up.”

Blair knew Jensen well. He was her father’s handpicked security adviser, and before her father’s presidency, Averill had been attorney general. He’d also been her father’s college roommate. She said, “Averill would. He never misses anything.”

“Yes, and when he followed up, the lid slammed shut.” Lucinda lifted her shoulder. “I suspect the operative responsible for the information leak has been transferred someplace where the nights are long and dark.”

“So Valerie is out in the cold somewhere,” Cam said. “Are they trying to bring her in?”

“We don’t know. But we’d like to find her ourselves.” Lucinda crossed her legs and folded her hands loosely in her lap. Relaxed. Friendly. “You know her, Cam. That could be useful.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Blair said. “Cam and Valerie—”

“Have a history, yes I know.” Lucinda’s gaze never wavered from Cam, even when Blair stood abruptly.

“History, Luce. History. As in past.” Blair wanted to pace but the room wasn’t quite big enough for it. Instead she walked to Lucinda’s desk and stood there with her back to the others. She looked out the French doors that opened to the esplanade running along one side of the West Wing until the red haze of anger cleared from her brain, then she turned back. Cam and Valerie had once been lovers when Cam had thought that Valerie was a high-priced Washington call girl. “Cam doesn’t know anything.”

“Blair,” Cam said gently. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand.” Blair looked from Lucinda to Cam. “God damn it, I hate this.”

“It’s Diane,” Cam said, watching Lucinda. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Blair stalked back to the sitting area but did not sit. She slammed her hands onto her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. “Diane is not part of this. She was never part of this. She doesn’t know—”

“We haven’t been able to access very much information,” Lucinda went on in her conversational tone. “Averill wouldn’t have pushed at all except Lawrence’s name came up in association with the raid in Tennessee. That’s getting close to home.”

“So you want to know what Valerie knows,” Cam said, thinking out loud. She reached up and pulled Blair down beside her. “It’s okay. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”

“Actually, we want to know who Valerie knows,” Lucinda replied. “Because someone tipped Matheson about the raid. He’s disappeared.”

Cam straightened in surprise. Matheson was the head of a paramilitary organization that had direct ties with the men who had staged the assault on Blair in the Aerie. Possibly even with the men who had orchestrated the World Trade Center attacks. When Cam’s team uncovered his identity, she, Renée, and a handpicked cadre of covert military operatives, had stormed the compound. Matheson had not been there. “I thought the Company had him.”

Lucinda shook her head. “As far as we know, no one has him.”

“And someone thinks Valerie tipped him off?” Cam asked tightly.

“We don’t know anything. We would very much like to speak to Valerie Lawrence.”

“Who’s we?” Blair snapped.

Lucinda rose. “Have you two had lunch? I was about to ring for something.”

Blair closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is one of those times when my father doesn’t know anything, right? Even when he does?”

“Turkey clubs okay?” Lucinda inquired with the phone in her hand.

“Yes, fine,” Blair said. “I still don’t understand why we’re here.”

Lucinda gave her order to the kitchen, then hung up. “As I said, we—well, Averill—was able to access some of the information about Valerie Lawrence before the door slammed shut. They had tapes. Phone records. We have reason to believe she’s going to contact, or already has contacted, Diane Bleeker.”

“Diane doesn’t know anything about this,” Blair repeated insistently.

“No, she probably doesn’t,” Lucinda said. “All we need to know is where Valerie is. When she contacts Diane, we’ll know.”

Blair laughed harshly. “Diane will never tell you that.”

“No,” Lucinda said. “But she’ll tell you.”

Cam slid her arm around Blair’s shoulders. Blair pulled away.

“I won’t do it. I won’t do it for you, Luce, I won’t do it for my father, I won’t do it for anyone. I love Diane. She’s my friend. I won’t spy on her.”

“I understand,” Lucinda said. “Just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all.” Blair jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

Cam stood but Blair shook her head, insisting, “No, I’m going by myself.”

“Blair.” Cam tried to catch her hand but Blair sidestepped. “Baby, let’s—”

“No. Just—no.”

Cam watched her go, a sinking feeling in her chest. She reached for her radio to call the team, and then realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t have it because she wasn’t part of the team. “God damn it.” She started toward the door.

“They’ll pick her up right outside the office,” Lucinda said. “Give her some time, Cam. It’s been a difficult month.”

It took everything Cam had not to go after Blair. To trust that someone else would. That someone would keep her safe.

“Besides,” Lucinda said. “It will give us time to talk.”

Chapter Four

Blair yanked out the clip that held her hair at the back of her neck, letting her thick, unruly waves fall free around her face. She was aware of Paula Stark falling in behind her as she hurried from Lucinda’s corner office in the West Wing through the labyrinth of hallways and into the lobby. Once outside, she skirted around the circular drive toward the northwest gate.

“Ms. Powell,” Paula said, slightly breathless as she fell into step. “It would be better if we took the vehicle. If you let me know your destina—”

“I’m walking,” Blair snapped.

“Uh, yes, I can see that, but with all respect, we’re not prepared for street surveillance.”

“If you and your minions weren’t tagging along behind me in your shiny blue suits with your big-ass gas-guzzling black car, no one would even notice me. Go away.”

“I can’t go away. I’m sorry.” Paula was well aware that Blair could go unnoticed in street clothes. She had followed her into enough bars, and seen her pick up women who had no idea who she was enough times, to be convinced of that. Nevertheless, she wasn’t comforted by the knowledge that people might not recognize Blair when she wasn’t at an official function or dressed for a political affair. It was just as possible that unfriendlies were routinely watching the comings and goings at the White House, and right now, Paula didn’t have enough personnel to guard Blair out in the open. “Ma’am, this is not advisable.”

“I just need some air.” Blair slowed and met Paula’s worried gaze. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I can have another team here in two minutes.” Paula glanced over her shoulder and saw the Suburban following slowly behind them on 17th St. She held a hand behind her

with two fingers extended and heard car doors open and close. Hara and Wozinski should be on the ground now too. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon and would be dark soon. They were also heading toward the Mall, which was exactly where she did not want to be at night.

“Can we compromise?” she urged. “Can you just sit somewhere, and I promise we’ll disappear.”

Blair laughed abruptly and looked past her to Hara and Wozinski. “The three of you would stand out in a crowd, no matter what you were wearing. Out here, you might as well be waving a sign saying ‘we’re government agents.’”

Paula pointed to a bench. “There’s a great spot right by the reflecting pool.”

“And with three people, you can easily watch my back and flanks, and unless the creature from the Black Lagoon comes up out of the pool, you don’t have to worry about a frontal approach.” Blair recited the tactics flatly as she quickened her pace. She sat down on the white stone bench, gripped the cold edges with her fingers, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t angry with Paula. Making Paula’s job harder wasn’t going to ease the hurt and fury that stormed with equal measure inside her.

She couldn’t believe that Lucinda had summoned her to Washington to ask her to spy on Diane. No, actually she could believe it. She’d seen people in power compromise their principles often enough, but she hated to think that the people she loved, Lucinda and her father, would sacrifice trust and fidelity to achieve their goals. Maybe that’s why she’d fallen in love with Cam. Because Cam was always so clear about which side of the line she stood on. Cam did not compromise.

“Paula?” Blair said softly as the sun went down.

“Yes ma’am?” The reply came from somewhere behind her.

“Would you call Cam and tell her you’re with me. She’ll worry.”

“Right away.” After a moment’s silence, Paula added, “Can I tell her when we might be back?”

“In a little while,” Blair murmured.

She should go back. Cam wouldn’t be satisfied with a phone call. It didn’t matter that she knew Paula was capable. It didn’t matter that she knew Blair was safe. She needed to see that for herself. Blair sensed that Cam already felt powerless with Paula in command and that she was having trouble adjusting to the change in their relationship. She loved Cam for wanting to protect her and care for her, even though that wasn’t why she’d fallen in love with her or even what she needed most from her. Trying to change that about Cam would be denying what made her who she was. And making her needlessly uncomfortable was just unkind. She could be furious at her father and Lucinda just as easily at Cam’s condo.

“Paula?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Would you ask her to walk down to meet us?”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to, ma’am. She’s in a meeting with the president.”

Blair’s stomach tightened. So there was more. Of course there was. Lucinda didn’t fly her down here just to solicit a little snooping between girlfriends. Cam was a trained investigator. Cam had been Valerie’s lover. Cam was talking to her father. Alone.

Cam never turned down an assignment, never stepped away from her duty, never put her own safety first.

Blair stood abruptly and strode from the park, Paula and the other agents close behind.

Cam had given enough. And so had she.

Sybil Gretzky, the personal secretary to Andrew Powell, smiled at Blair as she entered the anteroom to the oval office. “Hello Blair.”

“Is my lover still with my father?”

Sybil’s smile never faltered. “Agent Roberts is with the president, yes. Would you like me to ring through?”

“Sorry,” Blair said, realizing she’d been saying that all day. She wasn’t just edgy, she needed to pound something. “Yes, please.”

She walked to the wide windows and looked out into the Rose Garden. It was so beautiful in the spring, with everything in bloom, but so desolate in the fall. Cold and a little barren.