"It's too much of a coincidence that all four of them have nothing in the public record to identify them. They don't even have driver's licenses." Cam wouldn't have believed the men actually existed if she hadn't seen their autopsy photos. "This, or something like this, was planned well before they reached adulthood."

Blair sat on the edge of the bed, her legs shaking. "It's horrible. I.. .What were they doing all this time? Why didn't anyone know this was going on?"

"With the exception of Foster, they've been living normal lives as ordinary citizens, doing nothing that would call attention to themselves. Ordinary jobs, no debt, no criminal records, nothing to make them stand out." Carefully, Cam crossed the room, watching Blair's face. She squatted down in front of her and rested her hands lightly on Blair's thighs. "None of them has ever been fingerprinted or photographed for any reason, even a credit card. They've never held a government or industry job where a security check would have been needed."

"But that could just be coincidence. It doesn't mean anything was planned," Blair insisted.

"If that were the whole picture, I'd agree with you, but it's not. We haven't been able to find applications to military academies for any of the four—-not West Point, not the Naval Academy, not the Air Force Academy—even though they surely would have been prime candidates. Well over ninety percent of graduates from NCMA go on to careers in the Armed Forces, and almost one hundred percent apply. Foster went into government service, but these men.. .It's as if they've been purposefully flying under the radar, just waiting." "Waiting to be called to do something like this?" "That's what we think." Cam eased up onto the bed next to Blair and loosely settled an arm around her waist. Blair didn't break her rigid pose, but she accepted Cam's touch. "They probably received all of their assault training at one of the paramilitary camps."

"Like a sleeper cell, only made up of Americans instead of... whoever?" Blair closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, they were filled with pain. "This can't be. This doesn't happen here."

Cam didn't need to point out that what happened on September 11 didn't happen here either, because she knew they were both thinking it. "I'm sorry."

"What now?" Blair asked.

"We still have work to do. These men are dead, and they can't help us with much more. Hopefully, the commandant of the school they attended will have the rest of the answers. He's proving almost as hard to uncover as these guys were, even though we know his name and what he looks like."

"What happens if he's the one who...planned everything?" "Then he'll be arrested." Cam wasn't actually so sure what would happen to him, but she knew one thing with absolute certainty. She wanted the opportunity to bring him to justice. And her idea of justice was not delivering him to the FBI or the Justice Department, where he could cut a deal for leniency in exchange for information. In all likelihood, that was what the people in power would want, but their agenda was not hers. Her only interest now was Blair's present and future safety.

*

"I think I've got something," Savard called from the dining room, her voice tight with anticipation.

Cam levered herself off the couch where she'd been trying to take a nap, rubbed at her eyes, which felt gritty and dry, and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "What did you find?"

"I've been sifting through Matheson's tax records. He paid a hefty inheritance tax fifteen years ago when his father died."

Cam peered at the screen, frowning at what appeared to be scanned copies of old documents. "You think he's bankrolling terrorists?"

Savard shook her head. "No. I traced back his parents, and then their parents. Matheson's grandfather held a deed for what looks like half a mountain in Tennessee."

"You don't say." Cam smiled. "And Matheson inherited the property. Do you have the precise coordinates for it yet?"

"It's almost midnight on a Friday night, Commander. No one's going to be available at the hall of records in Memphis."

"I'll bet their computer networks are running, because the law enforcement agencies will need access."

"Then we need Felicia for the extraction," Savard said, bowing to Felicia's skill as a computer cracker.

Cam checked her watch and grimaced. "She's only been asleep a couple hours, but I guess we'll need to wa-—"

"I might have a contact who can get the location for us a little faster," Valerie said. "I'll make a call."

"All right," Cam said. "And while you're at it, you might request a satellite image for us. You've got something up there with infrared capability, don't you?"

Valerie smiled. "I have no idea what's orbiting the Earth, Cameron. But I'm certain we have some sort of helpful toy up there. I'll see what I can do."

Savard waited until Valerie left the room to make her call. "You think there's a paramilitary compound on his property?"

"Don't you?"

"Yeah. I do. What are we going to do when we find out where it is?"

"I imagine it'll be out of our hands then." Cam kept her face carefully neutral.

"That's not how I want to see it go down." Savard regarded her steadily. "These guys may not have planned what happened at the World Trade Center, but they knew about it. And they sure as hell intended to kill Blair. I want to be there when they go down."

"Yes. So do I."

*

Blair was still awake when Cam came in shortly after four a.m., lying in bed in the dark with only the light from the vanity in the adjacent bathroom for illumination. "What's happening?"

Cam undressed quickly and slid into bed, reaching for Blair's hand. She threaded her fingers lightly through Blair's. "Valerie, Savard, and I need to go to Washington."

Blair rugged her hand free. "When?"

"Today. Later this morning."

"Why?"

"We're meeting with Lucinda and your father. Probably a few other people as well."

"About what?"

"We've located a compound in the Tennessee mountains. We've got satellite images of a number of buildings and vehicles. We suspect that's where the men who made the attempt on your life came from."

"It's just a briefing, right?"

"I should be back tonight."

"I want to come with you."

"That's not a good idea," Cam said quietly. "We've established excellent security here. We have no way of knowing how deep this may go—who in DC may be a part of it. Foster was on the inside. Maybe there are others. Unless you want to stay in the White House for another few weeks..."

"You know I don't."

"Then this is the safest place for you. The three of us will drive to Boston and get a flight from there."

"And just why do you need to go in person?" Blair sat up and snapped on the bedside light. She pulled the sheet to her waist, drew her knees up, and folded her arms around them, drawing in on herself. "What are you going to do in DC? Plan the big operation? Strategize about how you're going to apprehend these guys?" When Cam said nothing, Blair went on, her voice harsh, "You're not a commando, Cameron. That's why we have Special Forces. You're not getting involved in this."

"I'm just consulting."

"Oh," Blair said derisively, "don't you dare give me that line. I know you. Consulting, my ass. Tell me you're not going with the strike team. Tell me that's not your plan."

"The only thing that's going to happen today is that I'm going to brief the president, Lucinda, and the security chief. That's all." Cam sat up and leaned her shoulder against Blair's.

Despite her anger, Blair found Cam's hand and held it. "What if they don't want to wait? What if they want to go today? Tell me you won't go with them."

Cam was silent.

"Damn you, Cameron."

"I won't be in the first wave. I won't be knocking down any doors."

"I want you to promise me you won't go with them." Blair saw Cam's jaw set. Very gently, she turned Cam's face toward hers. "Make me that promise."

Cam looked into her eyes. "I want to see him in chains. I'd prefer to see him dead, but I won't do it myself. I promise I'll stay far behind the line. I prorrnse you that."

"Why? Why is it so important?"

"Men like him killed my father. And then he almost killed you..." Cam's throat tightened around the words and she turned her face forcefully away, breaking Blair's hold. "I need faces for the monsters too, Blair."

"Oh, Jesus," Blair sighed, wrapping her arm tightly around Cam's shoulders. "I can't stand it when you hurt." She leaned her forehead against the side of Cam's head. "I love you even more than I need you, and that's so much I can't stand it. Please be careful."

Cam turned back, pulling Blair into her arms. She kissed her roughly, urgently, needing to drive the images of flaming cars and automatic gunfire from her mind. She pushed her back onto the bed and followed, covering Blair's body with her own. She let herself drown in her, losing her pain amidst their passion.

*

Valerie held Diane as she slept. She caressed her hair, her back, the curve of her side, remembering the sound of her pleasure. Fixing it in her mind. She could taste her still, sweetly exotic. She'd made love to her until Diane had begged her to stop, laughing and crying as she'd come the last time.

"Let me make love to you," Diane had murmured drowsily, barely able to move.

"Next time," she had whispered, gathering her close against her body.