"Wait a minute, Cam. We don't know what they were exposed to yet."

Cam turned back. "But you'll know in a few hours, right?"

"We'll have the immunoassay results in just about four hours, yes, but they'll just be prelim-—"

"Then I'll see her at 2100 hours," Cam said as she set her watch.

*

"Hi, Dad," Blair said, holding the cell phone in her right hand as she sat propped up in bed in her surgical scrubs with an intravenous line taped to her left arm. Stark sat in a similar position across from her on the opposite bed.

"Hi, honey. I'm sorry that I haven't talked to you before this, Colonel Grau has been in constant contact, but he seemed to feel it was necessary to complete their preliminary evaluation before—"

"Dad, Dad, Relax. I'm okay." Blair grimaced. As okay as I can be considering that I'm locked up tighter than Alcatraz and people are poking and prodding me nonstop.

"I've been assured that you are, or I'd be there right now."

"Don't do that," Blair said instantly. "I don't think there's anything wrong with me, but you certainly can't come here and risk catching something. Besides, you're—"

"I'm your father, and if there's the slightest possibility that you're ill, I'll be there."

Blair could hear protesting voices in the background, one of which she was certain belonged to Lucinda. She would not want to be her father's chief of staff at this moment. "Look, Dad, I know the situation. And so do you. Even if there weren't any risk, the last thing we need is the media around here. So send me a card, but no visits. Come to think of it, no flowers either."

Her father laughed weakly. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I want out of here. Then I'll be fine."

"Where's Cam?"

"She's here. I can't get her to leave."

"Good."

"Dad," Blair said gently, "they're taking good care of me. And Cam won't let anything happen to me."

"I certainly got lucky when you found her."

Blair smiled. "Yeah, me too."

After she said her goodbyes and hung up, she turned on her side and regarded Stark mournfully. "This sucks."

"Yeah. It does."

"You doing okay?"

Stark shrugged. "I don't feel sick." She regarded Blair anxiously. "But Renee looks terrible. Something's really wrong."

"I imagine it's been pretty horrible for her, Paula," Blair said quietly. "But I'm sure that you being in her life is helping her get through it."

Stark closed her hands into tight fists and closed her eyes. "I'm not doing anything for anyone. You ended up in here, and Renee's out there, alone, worrying about me. And I'm no good to anybody."

Blair pushed back the sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed until she was sitting upright, leaning forward toward Stark. "What the hell is the matter with you? You don't usually sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm scared." Stark turned eyes dark with misery to Blair. "I'm scared for her, and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, honey, just love her."

"You really think that's enough?"

Blair smiled. "I know it is."

Both women turned at die sound of the door opening, and then Blair shot to her feet. "You can't be in here. Turn around right now and get your ass out of here."

"Hi, baby," Cam said as she hooked an arm around the back of a chair and swung it off the floor. She dropped it next to the bed and sat down a foot from Blair. In a very reasonable voice, she said, "You'll notice, Ms. Powell, that I'm wearing a mask and a cover gown."

"I don't care if you're wearing Kevlar. I don't want you in here." Blair pushed as far away from Cam as she could get. In a voice thin with fear, she said, "Please. Please leave."

"Blair," Cam said gently, making no move to touch her, although she ached to pull her into her arms. It had been only hours that they'd been apart, but the fear had unbalanced her. If she could only hold her—-just feeling the heat of her body and the play of those supple muscles beneath smooth skin would set her world right again. She forced a lightness into her voice. "It's okay that I'm here. The doctors cleared it."

"The doctors don't know everything. Hell, they don't anything. If we have something, I don't want you getting sick."

Stark spoke up. "She's right, Commander. I'd advise you to leave."

Cam looked from one to the other and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her feet at the ankles. "Would you two like to be briefed, or would you rather try to throw me out?"

"You can stay," Blair said after a minute, "but no touching."

"Oh, jeez," Stark muttered.

"So brief us, Commander," Blair said, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"Captain Andrews will be here in a few minutes to give you all the correct medical terminology. She's on the line with the president right now," Cam said as she looked into Blair's eyes.

"But you know something, don't you?" Blair asked.

Cam never hesitated, because lying was not something she was ever going to do with Blair. "Yes. It seems that the preliminary tests are highly suggestive of anthrax."

Blair's lips tightened.

Beside them, Stark took in an audible breath and then asked, "Does Renee know?"

"Not yet. She's asleep, and I thought it would be better not to wake her. If you want me to get her-—"

"No!" Stark said immediately. "But if you'd tell her..." Her voice cracked and she looked down at her hands, struggling to push back her fears.

"Wait, you two." Cam continued in a steady voice, "There's plenty of good news. All three of you have begun treatment before any sign of symptoms, which means that you're very likely not going to get sick." She nodded toward the gauze taped to Blair's upper arm. "They vaccinated you too, didn't they?"

"Yes." Blair leaned forward, allowing her fingertips to brush Cam's sleeve. It was so good to have her close again, and she wanted so badly to touch her. She forced herself to stop before their skin made contact. She had to be sure that Cam was not in danger. "What's the bad news?"

"Unfortunately," Cam said with the first hint of frustration, "the incubation period is extremely long, especially for the inhalational form of the disease."

"How long?" Blair and Stark said in unison.

Before Blair could protest, Cam slid her hand on top of Blair's. Instantly, their fingers intertwined. "Sixty days after exposure."

Blair stiffened. "They're not going to keep us here—"

"No,", Cam assured her quickly. "In fact, Captain Andrews said if you're not showing any signs of illness—which you won't be—by the time the cultures come back, you'll all be released on medication."

"What about other people?" Stark asked, thinking of how ill Renee seemed already. "Are we—-you know—contagious?"

Cam shook her head. "Not at all. Person-to-person spread of the disease does not occur."

"So what's the bottom line here, Commander?" Blair asked, pulling Cam's hand into her lap and cradling it against her body. That was all the contact she was going to allow herself until she knew for certain that Cam was safe, but the firm grip of Cam's fingers around hers stilled the tremulousness in the pit of her stomach that had been there since the instant she'd seen the white substance burst into the air.

"You need to stay here for a few more days to be certain that the antibiotics and other drugs are working."

Blair regarded Stark with a vehement shake of her head. "I'm not playing pinochle with her as my partner."

Cam laughed. The last time Blair had been sequestered, they'd passed the hours playing pinochle. Blair had declared Stark the worst player she'd ever seen. "You don't have to worry about that. The only partner you're ever going to have, Ms. Powell, is me."

Chapter Twenty

Sunday, September 16

D im light filtered through the window in the door from the hallway into the room where Cam and Savard lay side by side on narrow cots. It had been quiet since the last time a technician had checked on Blair and Stark an hour and a half ago. Cam stared at the ceiling, listening to Savard shift restlessly in her sleep. Every so often she heard a quiet moan. When the moans grew louder and culminated in a sharp cry, she rolled onto her side and reached across the space between them. With a hand on Savard's shoulder, she said gently, "Hey, Renee."

Savard jerked upright, trembling as she fought to orient herself in the near dark.

"Sorry," Cam said, keeping her hand on the unsteady woman's arm. "You sounded like you were having a bad dream."

"Yeah," Savard said shakily. She had promised Paula she'd try to sleep, although she hadn't expected to. She'd stripped down to her camisole and panties after returning from her all-too-brief visit with Stark earlier, and looking down, she realized that she'd kicked the covers off in her sleep. With a small laugh, she reached for the sheet and pulled it up to her waist. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Cam dropped her hand and rolled onto her back again. "Couldn't sleep."

"I'm surprised I did."

"Having a tough time with that?"

Savard hesitated, but there in the dark, with a woman she trusted with her life, she had to believe she was safe. "Can't get it out of my head."

"Understandable."

"Working helps, but only for so long." Savard lay back down, gripping the sheet tightly in both fists. "And now, with Paula in here..." She heard her voice waver and break, but it seemed as if she were listening to someone else. The words kept coming, even though she hadn't intended them to escape. "I keep seeing things. Hearing things."