Love & Honor

Chapter Seventeen

Cam shook her head groggily as the alarm droned beside her. She wasn't certain how long it had been buzzing as she slowly emerged from a dreamless sleep to the insistent sound. Stifling another groan, she reached out with one arm and blindly swatted in the direction of the clock. Finally, she succeeded in silencing the din. After another minute, she forced herself upright and headed for the bathroom. With the shower set more to cold than warm, she stepped in and turned her face to the pinpricks of water. It was early, and she wondered if Blair was still asleep. In that one unguarded moment, loneliness crested on a swift stab of pain. Then, just as quickly, she forced it from her consciousness.

****

At precisely 0730, Cam walked into the conference room on the seventh floor of Blair's apartment building, the level directly below Blairs and entirely occupied by the Secret Service team. The major portion of the floor was a large open space subdivided by shoulder-high walls into workstations and monitoring areas. In the far corner past a warren of cramped desks was the glass enclosed area which served as the meeting room for Cam and her agents. At the moment, most of the team was present, since the night shift was present to report before going off-duty and the day shift had just arrived to take over the watch. Usually there were one or more swing agents available as well to cover unexpected events or supply double coverage on short notice if needed.

This was the first time the team had convened at Command Central since the night the operation to apprehend Loverboy had nearly ended in disaster. Ellen Grant's absence was conspicuous.

Almost everyone had coffee in some form in front of them, carryout cups from nearby delis a subtle indictment of the office brew that was often hours old. Cam strode to the head of the table and nodded to the men and women facing her. Without preamble, she began.

"I presume all of you have seen the newspaper article from last night. Obviously, we can anticipate increased media attention whenever Egret leaves the building. There's a camera crew on the northeast corner of the square right now."

That statement was met with several groans and a few unflattering comments as to the nature of the Fourth estate.

"That means we can also expect close approach from the press-singly and in groups. Be alert for press credentials and have a very low threshold for containing or diverting anyone who is without the appropriate identification or who encroaches on her personal perimeter. If at all possible, move her quickly from the vehicle to any public venue. Well go to high security status today. We have no reason at this point to think they know about the gym or any of her private appointments. Nevertheless, don't make any assumptions."

Everyone nodded. Then Cam looked to Mac. "I'll be meeting with Egret per usual at 1100 hours. Hopefully, I'll be able to update the weekly schedule with her and pass along that information to you for a more concrete itinerary." Surveying the group again, she added, "Mac will have your schedule assignments then."

"What are we going to do about finding the slimeball who took that picture?" Paula Stark questioned. The righteous indignation in her voice was obvious.

Briefly, Cam wondered how many of her agents knew that she was the person depicted in the photograph kissing the President's daughter.

"For now, nothing," Cam responded bluntly. She almost smiled at the expressions of outrage on the faces of her agents. The fact that they were all ferociously dedicated to Blair pleased her. She raised a hand to stem the questions that were sure to be forthcoming. "I need to brief first with DC. I can tell you this-we're not going to take this lying down."

That statement prompted an assortment ofgood, for sure anddamn rights .

"In addition to routine matters, we need to gear up for the trans-Atlantic trip. I want status reports on my desk by this afternoon as to who will be our liaison in Paris, the itinerary, the report from the security chief at the hotel, an update on all terrorist cells known to be operating in France, with particular emphasis on Paris and its environs, and dossiers on the French security members assigned to every function at which Egret will be present."

"Were on that, Commander," Mac assured her. "I'll collate the material we have for you this afternoon."

"Very good." Cam shrugged her shoulders to ease some of the stiffness in her neck and back. "Mac, I'd like to see you, please. The rest of you, carry on."

Once the room had cleared, Cam sat down across from her second in command and briefly rubbed her eyes. Then, she leaned forward and met his steady gaze. "I want to know where that photograph came from. Make some inquiries to the wire services, contact the managing editor of the Post, and dig around at the Intel Ops center in DC. Be discrete if you can, but pull rank if you have to."

Mac, a scrupulous detail man, was conspicuouslynot taking notes. What she was asking was outside the Agency chain of command, because strictly speaking, someone in DC should coordinate this kind of intelligence gathering with the FBI. But then, the Secret Service did not share intelligence with the FBI, nor ask them for any. "What do we know about specifics-time frame, location?"

For a moment, Cam was silent. Mac would have no reason to know the circumstances under which the image had been captured, and she could keep her part in it under wraps-at least for now. As a Secret Service agent, she was indoctrinated in the policy of silence. One did not discuss a protectee; one did not discuss Agency business with other departments; one did not discuss procedure. Solitary since childhood, circumspect with her own emotional pain-unable and unwilling to add to her mother's agony with her own seemingly inconsequential anguish after the death of her father, she had learned to keep her own counsel. The habits of a lifetime compounded by the requirements of her profession made it difficult for her to disclose anything to anyone, no matter how much she trustedor loved-them. The silence in the room grew, a silence during which Mac sat quietly, simply waiting.

"The photograph was taken at approximately 0130 three nights ago on the waterfront in San Francisco."

One blond eyebrow raised, his only sign of surprise, whether at the information or the fact that she knew it, Cam couldn't tell.

"I never got a report that we'd lost her at anytime in San Francisco," he said.

"We didn't."

"Then how did she manage to get away from us long enough for anyone to get that shot?"

His confusion was evident, and she made a decision that in all probability would alter the course of her career forever.

"She didn't leave our sight. The person in the photograph with her is me."

His reaction was not precisely what she had expected.

"Well then, where the fuck were the rest of our people? How in thehell did they let anyone get that close to her. Jesus, talk about a security failure."

Cam shrugged, a rueful grin on her face. "She and I were not directly in their sight line, although they should have had an excellent perimeter view. One thought I hadafter the fact unfortunately-is that he was on one of the nearby piers with a night scope. He could have gotten fairly close to us but probably wouldn't have raised any particular suspicion from the team. They were most likely focusing on foot traffic on the beach."

"Commander, may I speak freely?" Mac asked softly.

"Go ahead, Mac."

He held her eyes as he said firmly, "I consider it my responsibility-the responsibility of the entire team-to protect her not just physically, but from this kind of invasion as well. I know it's not completely possible to deny the press access to her, but dammit, this is something personal. The public has no right to know this. I don't want it to happen again."

"I don't know that we can stop it, Mac," Cam replied. Frustrated, she strafed her hair with a hand. "I'm not even sure I knowhow to stop it. But someone released this photograph, and I want to know who they are and how they got it. I want to know-" she hesitated, because the next words came hard. Harder than almost anything she had ever said. "I need to know if it came from one of us."

His blue eyes grew dark with pain, but he answered crisply. "Yes, ma'am. If I may, I'd like to look into this personally."

"That might not be looked upon favorably by DC," she warned.

"So noted."

"It's possible I may go down for this, Mac. If I do, I want you in the clear. I need you to take my place. Blair needs you."

"I would not want to be in Egret's path if anyone tries that, Commander."

She smiled. "No, it wouldn't be pretty. Just the same, if it comes to that, I want you to disavow any prior knowledge. We never had this conversation."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mac."