Radclyffe - Above All, Honor

"Yes, lets get that over with," she responded with irritation, taking her coffee and moving into the sitting area.

Cam followed, noting the large work area in the far corner of the loft. Easels stood open with canvasses mounted on them and other works leaned against every surface. Sunlight streamed through the skylight, illuminating the uncovered surfaces. From the brief glimpse she got, it appeared that Blair Powell deserved her reputation as a genuine artist. Cam took a seat across from Blair on one of two facing leather sofas. Blair tucked her legs under her as she curled gracefully into the cushions. Cam noted abstractly that she was much more beautiful in her unconscious moments than when she used her considerable sexual power as a weapon. In the next instant her mind had returned to the work at hand.

"I have you at a gallery opening tomorrow, dinner at the White House New Years Eve, and attending the Macys parade here in New York City with the mayor the next day," Cam read from the schedule. She looked to Blair for confirmation.

"Busy week," Blair muttered. "That seems to be it," she said tersely.

Cam regarded her thoughtfully. She would have hated such intrusion, but there was nothing to be done about it. The fact that Blair Powell did not choose this life - it wasnt her after all who had run for public office - was beside the point. And the hard part was yet to come.

"What about your personal plans," Cam asked, her eyes on Blairs face. She would not apologize for what she needed to do. Cam wanted it clear that she would not compromise her own responsibility or Blairs safety because of Blairs dislike for the situation.

"I dont have any," Blair responded lightly.

Cam leaned back, tossing the schedule aside. She smiled faintly. "I need to know anything you have scheduled - dinner plans, a date for drinks, that sort of thing. If you dont know, Ill need you to tell me as things come up. All you have to do is check in with the command post -"

"I know all this, Agent Roberts," Blair said testily.

"Yes, but apparently youre not fond of the routine."

"Would you be?"

"Thats not the point. You are the daughter of the President of the United States. You dont need me to tell you what that means. Please let us do ours jobs, and I promise you we will be as discreet as we can be."

"Do you expect me to tell you when I plan on a sexual liaison too?" she asked bluntly.

"I dont need to know what youre doing so much as where youre doing it," Cam responded smoothly. She knew Blair was trying to get her to back off, and she could not relent now. "It would be preferable if you would inform us when you planned to spend the night somewhere other than here, for example."

"And what if I dont know where Ill be spending the night?"

"Then Ill improvise."

"Youre a lot more direct than your predecessors. Arent you afraid Ill complain about you and youll end up guarding some minor foreign diplomat on their tour of the capitol?" Her tone was caustic, but she studied Cam with guarded respect. The new commander was in a class of her own. Impossible to shock, and clearly not intimidated by her. A refreshing change, but much more of a challenge than the others.

Cam laughed. "Ms. Powell, some people would consider that a plum assignment!"

"Compared to this you mean?"

Cam stood, refusing to be provoked. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Powell. Please call me at any time if there is anything you wish to discuss. I would like to review your itinerary each day. Let the command room know when it will be convenient for you to meet with me."

"Oh, absolutely," Blair responded with a smile, her tone implying just how little that request meant to her. She remained seated as Cam left the room, thinking how attractive her tight, graceful body might be under other circumstances.

Mac Philips looked up as his new boss walked into the command center. He raised an eyebrow slightly in inquiry. She seemed pensive but displayed none of the thinly veiled discomfort Ryan tried to hide after one of his encounters with Egret. But then Mac didnt expect her to reveal anything. He couldnt remember the last time he had met anyone quite so impenetrable. He had a feeling this was going to be a "need to know" operation. He found he liked her unspoken respect for Egrets position, and her basic assumption that they were there to protect her, not have an easy time. He was getting tired of the undercurrent of dissatisfaction and criticism that had been the daily fare around there for the last few months. If she could turn that around, he was all for her.

"Anything unexpected?" he asked as she joined him.

"Not so far. The public functions are as outlined. For the gallery opening tomorrow, Ill be inside with two others. Have two people with the car outside. That means the afternoon and evening shift will split the extra duty."

He made a note. "Right."

"We can use some of the White House detail for the dinner on New Years Eve. Have one team stay here to meet her plane when she returns for the parade. All of that is standard, and in the future you can draw up the duty rosters. Just be sure I get a hard copy of who will be where."

"Done," he responded. He waited, wondering how she was going to deal with the real problem.

"Ms. Powell will not confirm any personal plans, which puts us in a reactive mode. I do not want her to get away from us, especially not now. I have a feeling shell be testing our new command. She is going to move, you can be sure of that. Keep a car accessible in case she grabs a cab, and have someone ready for foot pursuit, preferably a woman. If she goes to a gay bar, it might be easier if we have a woman on the inside."

"Weve had lousy luck so far," Mac remarked. "Half the time we lose her in transit."

Can stood, stretching her cramped shoulders. "That is no longer acceptable. Im going home. Page me the minute she steps out her door."

"Until what time?" Mac asked as he prepared to make a note.

"Anytime," she said with finality. "If she isnt in her apartment, I want to know about it."

"Yes, maam," Mac responded crisply. He watched her glance once around the room, assuring herself that all was in order, before she left. He had a feeling Egret was in for a surprise, and he was looking forward to seeing it.

**********

Cam stripped as she walked through her new apartment to the shower, eager to wash the effects of her flight and the first day of her new assignment from her body and her mind. The cool spray refreshed her, but did little to dispel the disquiet left from her meeting with Blair Powell.

It was not just the young woman's confrontational manner that had affected her. She was angry at herself for the physical response, however unwelcome, that the woman had provoked in her. She had been aware of an insistent pulse of stimulation long after she left the apartment. It may have been unbidden, but she felt betrayed by her own body. With an irritated shake of her head, she pulled on shorts and a tee-shirt. She could hardly be expected to control her involuntary nervous system! And here in New York there was no discrete way to relieve it. She would just have to run off the lingering remnants of arousal.

**********

Blair Powell looked down onto the busy streets below as Cam ran lightly down the steps of her brownstone and began her jog toward Central Park. She was very quickly swallowed by the crowds. An afterimage of her lean form lingered in Blairs mind as she reached for her phone. It occurred to her that the agents downstairs might be listening, but she no longer cared. She dialed a number from memory.

"Hey, you," she said with a smile in her voice, "How come youre working on a Saturday? ... Right! Youre still trying to be the youngest assistant director! ... Of course I need a favor! .... Background check - a Cameron Roberts. This might be a tough one. Shes secret service.... Yes, I know how much youre sacrificing! Just get me whatever you can. ... Call me as soon as you have something, okay? And hey - I know I owe you, really .... Not in this lifetime you wont!"