"Talk to you soon," Stark said, forcing a smile as she reluctantly let her go.

*

Blair and Diane reached the back porch just in time for Blair to hear Cam's final words.

"...want in on it. We've earned it Fine. Yes. Thank you." She closed the phone abruptly just as Blair reached her. "Hey." She kissed her. "I've only got a minute. Sorry."

"Who was that?" Blair asked.

Diane squeezed Blair's hand, "I'm going to go inside and take a shower."

Blair didn't answer, still studying Cam, as she repeated, "Who was that?"

"Stewart Carlisle," Cam said, naming her immediate superior.

"And he's going to do what? Make sure you get your shot at these guys?" Blair grasped the front of Cam's leather flight jacket and gave her a shake. "You promised me. You promised me that you'd stay out of this. Cameron, God damn it. You promised."

"I know. I meant it." Cam covered Blair's hands with hers, not resisting. "I do mean it. I said I'd stay in the back lines, and I will. I swear."

Blair yanked her forward and kissed her hard. She felt her lips bruise and knew Cam's would be sore too, but she didn't care. If she couldn't keep her from going, couldn't keep her from danger, she would make her feel what there was to lose if she put herself at risk. This love, this life they had made, that was what she wanted Cam to remember when she had to make a choice between her desire to see justice done and her own safety.

Cam let herself be taken, helpless before Blair's onslaught. She was breathless from the force of Blair's demanding mouth. She wasn't aware of being pushed until her back smacked up against the deck post and Blair pressed into her. She finally jerked her head away from the kiss, but she couldn't escape the havoc Blair's hands played on her body. "Jesus. I have to be able to think sometime today, baby. Give me a break."

"I want you to think," Blair muttered, her mouth on Cam's neck. "You think about me today, Cameron. You think about making me love you, about making me need you. And you get your ass back here in one piece."

"I never think of anyone but you," Cam said before she claimed her mouth with as much ferocity as Blair had taken hers. After another hungry moment, she pulled away. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah." Resting her forehead on Cam's shoulder, Blair tenderly smoothed her hands over the front of Cam's leather jacket, then inside to gently caress her chest. "Like that's the answer to everything."

"Isn't if?" Cam smiled and kissed her forehead. "Be back soon, baby." Then she slipped from Blair's embrace and strode down the stairs and around the building, out of sight.

Blair leaned against the post, watching the sunrise over the ocean. It was so indescribable, so heartbreakingly beautiiul. Like love. Before the moment was lost, she hurried inside, dropping her jacket on the floor along the way, and set a fresh canvas on the easel. Her gaze on the sunrise, her heart with Cam, she began to paint.

*

Savard heard the clump-clump-clump of rotors whirring before the black dot on the horizon became distinguishable as an MH-6 Little Bird—an Army Special Ops light assault helicopter. It was one of the smallest attack aircraft in the Army's arsenal, used primarily for insertion and extraction operations. Ordinarily, it carried six combat troops on its external platforms, but currently the ramps were unoccupied. She glanced at Cam. "Interesting form of transportation to a debriefing, Commander."

"There's been a slight change in plans," Cam said, her eyes on the descending aircraft. "It seems there is some degree of urgency since we have a breakdown in the integrity of our team and our intel may not be secure."

Breakdown in the integrity of our team. Savard played that phrase around in her mind. She deciphered it to mean that someone higher up knew that Valerie was gone, and that she had most likely informed the CIA not only of the location of the paramilitary camp but also of the evidence pointing to Matheson's terrorist link. Our intel may not be secure. And someone with a lot of pull was obviously worried that someone else would get to the party first. Her vote would be the Department of Defense. They could mobilize this kind of action pretty damn fast.

"It's rather unusual, isn't it," Savard said quietly, "to deploy the military against civilians? I would think it would fall to us in the FBI to take these guys down."

"Ordinarily it would be your people," Cam replied just as quietly. "But these aren't ordinary times. And after the kind of standoff that happened at Waco, with all the publicity that went with it, I expect even the White House is willing to bend the rules to get this done quickly, quietly, and efficiently."

"And...we're going along?" Savard couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice.

Cam smiled with grim satisfaction. "We are."

"Uh, if you don't mind me asking, how...?"

"I made some calls."

"Son of a bitch. I mean, thank you, Commander." Savard grinned. I'll just bet it was a few calls—probably starting with the chief of staff. Her eyes glinted with anticipation. Her whispered words were lost in the roar of the engine as the attack helicopter settled amidst a cloud of dust and debris. Here we come, you bastards.

Heads down, Savard and Cam ran across the tarmac as the door of the helicopter swung open. As soon as they climbed into the body, an Army officer in combat garb with lieutenant's bars on his shoulders crouched down in front of them. The helicopter began to ascend.

"Which one of you is Roberts?" he shouted, handing them headsets to muffle the motor and to allow them to speak to one another in flight.

"I am," Cam yelled back, situating the headgear and flicking the transmitter switch. She grabbed a strap that hung from the ceiling to steady herself and pointed to Savard. "Special Agent Savard, FBI."

The lieutenant nodded to both of them. "We'll refuel in Virginia and rendezvous with the other aircraft, then proceed directly to the target. We've been advised that you are to be considered embedded members of the team. You all will be in the strike zone."

"Understood," Cam replied.

"There're vests under the benches. Do you require assault rifles?"

"We're armed," Cam said. "We'll be fine, Lieutenant."

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied. "Enjoy the ride." Then he settled back on his heels, one hand curled around another hanging strap, closed his eyes, and appeared to go to sleep.

Savard glanced at Cam, raised her eyebrows, and grinned. She mouthed the words, Let's rock 'n roll.

Cam grinned and nodded back.

*

Blair stepped out onto the deck carrying two cups of coffee. She handed one to Stark.

"Thank you," Stark said, taking the mug. The sun was up, but the air was still chilled, and although it usually didn't bother her, this morning she was cold. She shivered inside her regulation-issue nylon jacket.

"Hell of a morning so far," Blair said.

"Yeah. How's Diane?"

"She's okay. She's willing to believe there's a good reason for what Valerie did, at least for now."

"I'm sure there's a reason," Stark grunted. "How good it is depends on whose team you play for."

"Well, she never really was part of this team."

"Maybe not officially, but we trusted her. Felicia's pretty steamed. They worked pretty close on this one."

"Do you know what's happening?"

"Not for sure. No."

"Would you tell me if you did?"

Stark met Blair's seeking gaze. "The reason that I think Commander Roberts has been so successful heading this detail is because she never kept you in the dark. Yes, I would tell you."

Blair smiled softly. "You don't think it's because I've fallen in love with her and will do anything she says?"

A second passed while Stark struggled to compose her features, but finally she surrendered and laughed. "Uh, no, that had never crossed my mind."

"Well, just so you don't think that I'm always so easy."

"I think there's nothing easy about the position you're in," Stark said seriously. "And the only thing I want to do is make it as uncomplicated for you as possible."

Blair leaned her hip against the railing, her expression contemplative as she considered Stark's uncomplicated honesty and essential goodness. "You know, I owe you an apology."

Stark looked confused. "I'm sorry?"

"For that night in Colorado."

"No, you don't," Stark said. "Everything that happened that night was mutual."

"You're not blushing. I don't even know how to interpret that."

"Let's just say I'm not embarrassed about something that will always be very special."

To her consternation, Blair found herself blushing. "Well. Thank you."

"Renee doesn't know."

Blair smiled. "And she never will unless you tell her."

"She doesn't seem to care about the past all that much."

"Smart woman."

"Yeah," Stark said with a sigh. She sipped her coffee and studied the empty beach. "I feel bad because sometimes I wish she weren't an FBI agent."

"That makes sense to me. I bet there's times she wishes you weren't a Secret Service agent, either."

Stark nodded. "She said something like that this morning."

"And I don't imagine either one of you is planning on retiring."

"No. Not likely." Stark straightened, shaking off the melancholy. They'd strayed far beyond the boundaries dictated by their professional relationship long ago, and although she welcomed the friendship, she also had a job to do. "So, we should discuss your agenda for the day."