“Clear! Clear! Clear!” The air was charged with the smell of explosives and cloudy with residue. Cam ripped off her protective headgear and goggles and dropped to her knees by Blair’s side. Lowering her weapon, she pulled Blair into her arms. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Blair said breathlessly. “Paula—”

“We know. Emory’s on her way. We’ll get her to the hospital.” Cam cradled Blair’s head, her gaze darting over her face. A red welt marred her right temple where Matheson had jammed his weapon. She couldn’t quite believe that she was holding her again. She rubbed Blair’s arms with both hands, suddenly aware that Blair was shaking uncontrollably. “Did he hurt you? Baby, are you hurt?”

Blair glanced down at the inert form sprawled in front of them. Matheson lay on his back, his hands lax by his sides, his expression one of mild confusion. “No, I’m…I’m all right. But God, Cam, I think I—”

“Come on,” Cam said, guiding Blair to her feet. She didn’t need to check the body. She’d seen the signature jerk and twitch of his limbs when his spine had been severed. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I want to stay with Paula.”

“As soon as the situation is under control, we’ll go to the hospital.” Cam brushed Blair’s hair with her fingertips. Her hand was trembling. She wanted Blair out of that room, away from the death and the violence. She wanted so desperately to protect her from the ugliness and the hatred, and she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you leave the grounds yet. He may have a partner close by.”

Blair wrapped her arms around Cam’s waist and buried her face in the curve of Cam’s neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“God, baby. I love you.” Cam stood in the midst of the milling crowd of agents and contract soldiers, rocking Blair, consoling them both. Valerie appeared in the doorway, the sunlight at her back, her face in shadow. Cam could feel her eyes upon them and she nodded her silent thanks. Valerie tipped her head in response. Then Valerie’s throaty voice cut effortlessly through the clamor of the adrenaline-charged teams.

“We’ve got wounded here and potential hostiles still at large, troops. Alpha team—you’re evac. Beta team—secure the scene.”

As chaos gave way to order, Valerie approached. “Ms. Powell, do you need medical attention?”

Blair eased out of Cam’s embrace, but kept her hand on Cam’s hip. “No, thank you. Both Paula and Dana were injured.”

“She should be looked at,” Cam said.

Blair started to protest, but Valerie broke in. “I agree. But as long as it isn’t urgent, I suggest you take her somewhere secure, Deputy Director.”

Cam wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulders. “You’re right. Thanks. If you need me for anything…”

Valerie smiled. “I’ll keep you advised, of course.”

As Blair and Cam started away, Valerie said softly, “Would you tell Diane I’ll be a little longer?”

Blair turned back. “I’ll let her know you’re all right. And Valerie, thank you for…” She looked around the room. “For this.”

“Not necessary,” Valerie said, “but you’re very welcome.”

“All clear,” Felicia Davis said to Emory. “You can go in now.” Emory jumped from the Suburban that had pulled in line with the one in front of Blair’s cabin and raced over the hard-packed snow to the porch. She leapt up the two steps and pushed through the open door. The main room was filled with men and women bristling with assault weapons. Just a few feet inside the door, Dana knelt by Paula Stark, both hands pressed to Stark’s left thigh while Renee Savard cradled the unconscious woman in her arms. Dana’s face was streaked with blood and an egg-sized bruise distorted her left cheek. Her pale shirt was nearly black with blood, and for just a second, Emory was nearly consumed with panic. Then her mind registered that Dana was not seriously injured, and as much as Emory wanted to touch her, she couldn’t. Not when Stark needed her more.

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay,” Savard crooned over and over, her lips to Stark’s forehead, her face a mask of abject terror.

“We need a stretcher in here,” Emory shouted to no one in particular as she crouched down. Dana gave her an anxious smile and Emory quickly smiled back before returning her attention to Paula. Her pulse was easily one-fifty and her skin was cold. “She’s in shock.” She raised her voice. “I need resuscitation fluid right now.”

From beside her a man responded, “Here you go, Doc.”

“Cut her jacket and shirt sleeves away,” Emory ordered while she tore the plastic wrapping off IV tubing. Then she inserted plastic catheters in the veins in both of Paula’s arms and connected the tubing to bags of fluid. “Pump these in. Then hang two more.” She looked over her shoulder and saw a collapsible gurney just outside the door. “Do we have MAST trousers?”

“No,” one of Tanner’s team said. “Sorry, Doc.”

Emory shook her head in frustration. “Let’s move her, then.” She inched closer to Dana. “How much is she bleeding?”

“Not much anymore,” Dana said, keeping her voice low. “But she’s bled a hell of a lot.”

“How badly are you hurt?”

“Thump on the head. I’ve had worse.”

“I want you to ride to the hospital and get checked out. I’m going to be busy with her for a while.” Emory feathered her fingers over Dana’s cheek, just below the bruise. “I was so worried about you. Don’t disappear, all right? God, Dana, I need to see you.”

“Just take care of her. I’ll find you.”

“Good. Don’t forget.” Then Emory stood. “Let me put a field dressing on that leg and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I’m okay, Dad.” Blair cradled the phone in one hand while stripping out of her jeans and sweater in the bedroom of Diane’s cabin. “Really, I’m fine… What?”

At the sharp astonishment in Blair’s voice, Cam took a step toward her, but Blair waved her away.

“Of course I’m not upset,” Blair said adamantly. “I didn’t expect you to do anything except what you did. God, Dad. You can’t just give in to these fuckers.”

Cam didn’t care if Blair wanted to be held or not. She needed to hold her. When she put her arms around her, Blair sagged into her.

“I’m sorry,” Blair said to her father, her voice shaking. “I’m a little strung out right now. I just want to get a shower. Here’s Cam.”

Blair broke away from Cam and held out the phone. “Tell him… whatever.”

Cam waited until the bathroom door slammed shut and then sat on the edge of the bed. She was exhausted and keyed up at the same time. “Sir, it’s Cameron Roberts.”

“You’re sure she’s not hurt?” the president said.

“She’s shaken up a bit, but uninjured.”

“How bad was it?”

Cam closed her eyes. “Bad. Close call.”

“I want a full report.”

“Yes sir. Of course.”

“You told Lucinda the threat was neutralized?”

Cam hesitated. She’d only told Lucinda in a quick phone call that Blair had been recovered, that they had injuries, and that Matheson was no longer a threat. She hadn’t provided any details. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell the president about what had happened in that cabin.

As if reading her thoughts, Andrew Powell said, “I’m her father, Cam. This is between you and me.”

“Blair killed him, hand to hand.”

The president sighed. “Well. How is she taking it?”

“I don’t know.” Cam glanced toward the bathroom. Not being able to see her, even for a few seconds, was driving her crazy. “If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d like to finish my report later.”

“Take care of her.”

“Yes sir. I will.”

Cam dropped the phone on the bedside table, unstrapped her weapon, and stripped down. She wanted to take the weapon with her into the bathroom, but the last thing Blair needed right now was to feel unsafe. She compromised by placing it on the chair closest to the bathroom door. She knocked, tried the handle, and finding the door unlocked, slipped inside. The shower was running, but Blair stood in front of the vanity, her hands clutching the edge, her head down. Her hair fell forward to cover her face, but it was easy to tell that she was crying. Cam cradled her from behind. “It’s okay, baby.”

Blair turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Cam’s shoulders, pressing her face to Cam’s neck. “It was over so fast. I didn’t think about it. He didn’t care if Paula died. I had to stop him.”

“Are you sorry?”

“No,” Blair said after a few seconds. She raised her head and searched Cam’s face. “Should I be?”

Cam smiled wryly. “No, baby. You shouldn’t be. He murdered one of Tanner’s men, he shot Stark and left her to die. He most certainly would have killed you and Dana once he realized there would be no negotiations. And that was just today.”

Blair smiled weakly. “Have you ever…with your bare hands?”

“No. With a weapon.” Cam sighed. “And I’ve given the order, when I would much preferred to have done it with my own hands.” She stroked Blair’s cheek. “You were amazing. You saved yourself, you saved Dana and Paula. You did exactly what needed to be done.” She kissed her. “I’m proud of you.”

“You’re shaking,” Blair murmured.

Cam squeezed her eyes tightly closed, holding back the tears that rose out of nowhere. “I just need to hold you.”

Blair caressed Cam’s back, smoothed her hand over her hair. “I’m okay. I’m right here.”

“Christ, I was scared.”

“I knew you would come,” Blair whispered. “Don’t cry, darling. I’m never leaving you.”

Cam swiped her face on her arm. “I just want to spend the rest of the day with you in my arms, but we need to get to the hospital.”

“How about taking a shower with me first?”

“I’ll take a shower with you. Hell, I’ll even go shopping with you.” Cam kissed her, hard. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Ever.” “I won’t complain.” Blair laughed. “How things change.” Cam held open the shower door. “Love will do that to you.”