Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“Ms. Powell will ride with you,” Paula said, leaning down to the open driver’s window of the first vehicle. “I’ll advise as to route once we’re in motion.”

“Yes ma’am,” the driver, a fresh-faced blond with a military style haircut, said sharply.

Paula walked back to the plane. When she’d contacted the Washington team, she’d outlined three potential motorcade routes from the air force base to the White House. Blair was vulnerable on the road in any type of vehicle, even with bulletproof glass and armored plating. Something as simple as a suicide driver in a tanker truck loaded with gasoline could kill her.

Once again, this was standard operating procedure, but Paula was uncomfortably aware of not totally trusting anyone outside of her immediate team. She did not welcome the feeling that no one, even those she should be able to trust implicitly, was above suspicion any longer, and she feared the situation was the new status quo.

With a nod to Hara and Wozinski, she started up the stairs to the plane. The pilots had not powered down the engines, remaining prepared to take flight again on her word if anything appeared amiss.

“Clear to disembark,” she reported to the marine who had accompanied them in flight. He saluted and went forward to advise the pilot and copilot while she waited on the narrow platform at the top of the stairs, shielding the door and any view of Blair with her body.

Inside the cabin, Felicia stepped to one side so that Blair and Cam could pass. She then moved up behind Blair.

“You should let Renée go down first, Paula,” Blair said, halting at the top of the stairs. “She’s going to have trouble on the stairs with those crutches.”

“Let’s proceed to your vehicle, Ms. Powell,” Paula said. “Hara can give Agent Savard a hand in a moment.”

Blair started to protest, then felt a gentle touch on the base of her spine just as Cam whispered, “You’re not secure here. Let’s go.”

“God, now I’ve got two of you ordering me around,” Blair muttered, but she started down behind Paula. As soon as she reached the ground, Hara and Wozinski closed in on either side, and with Felicia behind, the agents formed a protective ring around Blair and Cam as Paula led the way to the first vehicle. An agent Blair didn’t recognize opened the rear door and she and Cam climbed in.

“We’re in the middle of a United States Air Force base,” Blair griped. “The marine unit that protects my father and the White House is stationed here. What in God’s name could happen to me walking from the plane?”

“It doesn’t matter where we are,” Cam said quietly. “We’re at priority one.”

Blair sighed. “And I’m sure Stark realizes you’re watching her every move. I’ll be lucky if she lets me take a breath without permission.”

“I’m not watching her every move,” Cam said. “I already know that Stark knows what needs to be done. And she knows that too.”

“Sorry.” Blair peered out through the smoked bulletproof glass. Felicia had apparently returned to the plane after Blair was secure in the vehicle, and she and Hara crossed the tarmac toward the second car with Renée between them. Paula and Wozinski headed toward their vehicle. “I’m edgy.”

Cam took her hand. “I know. It’s okay.”

Paula climbed into the rear, Wozinski into the front.

“Would you still like to go directly to the White House, Ms. Powell?” Paula asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Paula keyed her transmitter to contact the drivers of both vehicles. “Destination Alpha, route Delta.”

The Suburban accelerated smoothly and quickly away from the runway, and Blair settled back for the familiar ride.

“Are you okay?” Cam asked.

Across from them, Stark looked out the window, her expression remote. Cam knew from experience that she could hear their conversation, but by means of some unconscious filter cultivated by most Secret Service agents for their own comfort as well as that of their protectees, she would not register the meaning of the words.

“I just want to find out what onerous chore Luce has planned for me now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a command performance, so I imagine she needs a visible White House presence somewhere.”

Cam wasn’t happy with that thought. Ordinarily, Lucinda tapped Blair when the White House wanted to make a statement, the kind of declaration that the president couldn’t make himself for political reasons—such as offering support for a pro-choice charitable organization or attendance at a fundraiser for a beleaguered political ally. Sometimes, the White House just needed a presence at a media-worthy event, and Blair was always popular. She was beautiful, well-educated, and personable. She was a great standin for her father. And her status made her a great target.

“Now isn’t exactly the time to be parading you out in public,” Cam observed.

“What?” Blair focused on Cam, aware of the tight thread of disapproval in her tone. “Do you want me to sit in a dark room somewhere for the rest of my father’s presidency?”

“That might not be a bad idea.”

In the past they would have fought about it. As it was, Blair struggled with her temper and her overwhelming need not to be controlled. She’d spent all her life resisting the efforts of others to safeguard her at the cost of her independence. She’d resisted Cam, too, for months, even as she tried to seduce her. She’d wanted to prove that she didn’t need to be protected, and she’d wanted to undercut Cam’s authority over her. Unfortunately, her plan hadn’t worked. She’d fallen in love, and although she hadn’t realized what that meant at first, she did now. Loving, being loved, was a responsibility. The decisions she made now didn’t just affect her, they affected Cam’s life, too. So she took a breath and listened to what Cam hadn’t said. Cam was worried for her.

“Remember you said yourself we couldn’t stop living,” Blair said. “We can’t let whoever tried to destroy us think they’ve frightened me into hiding.”

A pulse pounded in Cam’s neck. “I wasn’t talking about putting you on display somewhere when I said that.”

“You don’t know that’s what Lucinda wants.”

“She’s gearing up for your father’s reelection campaign. She’s not going to put that on hold no matter what’s happening on the international scene.” Cam consciously relaxed her hands, which had tightened into fists. “And you’re going to be a great campaign asset.”

“Darling, I’ve never been a great campaign asset. I’m the wild child, remember?” Blair laughed, thinking of the international debacle that would have resulted if her affair the year before with the French ambassador’s wife had come to light. “My security chiefs spent half their time trying to keep me out of the press, not in it.”

“Not anymore.” Cam trailed her fingers down Blair’s cheek. “You’re as close to a first lady as this country has. And the public loves you.”

“Let’s just wait and see what she wants,” Blair said, but she had an uneasy feeling that Cam might be right. She’d taken a back seat during her father’s run for the presidency, but she wouldn’t be able to do that again. She wanted him to be reelected. The country needed him. And if he needed her, she might have to get used to campaigning. She found Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not the first lady. I’m just your lady.”

“When did you figure out just what I needed to hear?” Cam murmured, kissing Blair’s temple.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“You’re doing well.”

Blair smiled. “Yeah? How well?”

“Want to keep Lucinda waiting for an hour or two?”

“Yes.” Blair leaned closer to Cam. Dropping her voice, she whispered, “You’re not the only one who’s been suffering while you recuperated.”

“Then it’s probably going to take me more than two hours to make it up to you. It might take me all night.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to suffer a little while longer.” With a satisfied expression, Blair leaned back and closed her eyes. “Because I don’t intend to hurry.”

When Emilio, assistant to the White House Chief of Staff, directed Blair and Cam into Lucinda Washburn’s office, Lucinda was on the phone. Blair waved to the commanding looking woman with the stylishly coiffed, silver-streaked black hair. As usual, Lucinda wore a conservatively styled jacket and skirt, plum colored this time, offset by burnished gold jewelry at her ears and throat. A single large, square cut emerald in a plain gold setting adorned the ring finger of her right hand. That, Blair noted, was new.

Lucinda paced in front of a wide walnut desk covered with neat stacks of folders and memoranda. When she caught Blair’s eye, she mouthed coffee and pointed to a credenza against one wall.

Blair signed, you too? and at Lucinda’s nod, proceeded to pour coffee into three China cups. She handed one to Lucinda and then carried the others to the sofa across from Lucinda’s desk, where Cam was waiting. They sipped in silence as Lucinda expertly pressured whoever was on the phone.

Her tone was even and unmistakably edged with flint. “Listen Tom, I really don’t care if Charlie has to walk all the way from Chicago. He owes us that vote and I expect him to be here tomorrow morning for roll call.” With a faint smile, she concluded, “Either that, or he’ll find himself pushing that school tax referendum up a long steep hill all by himself.”

Lucinda listened for another few seconds, said, “Wonderful,” and hung up. Then she crossed the room and settled into one of the brocade Chippendale chairs facing Blair and Cam. “Good flight?”

“Military transport isn’t known for luxury,” Blair said.

“True,” Lucinda conceded. “But they’re reliable.”

“Well, I’m here now, so what do you need?”

“I’d forgotten how much you enjoy small talk.” Lucinda turned to Cam. “How are you feeling?”

“Better every day.”

“Judicious answer.”

“Luce,” Blair said impatiently. “I was having a really nice morning when you called. A walk on the beach, and then I was planning on going back to bed. Once there, I intended to sedu—”

“You can probably skip those details, Blair,” Cam interjected, brushing her hand down Blair’s arm.

Lucinda laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to tell me all the details, Blair, just to make me suffer. Considering that I haven’t been out of this office before 2 a.m. the last month, I haven’t exactly been getting—”

Blair held up her hands. “I don’t want to know what you do in your spare time.”

“Truce then.” Lucinda’s expression softened for an instant. “You look rested, both of you, as much as can be expected. Doing all right?”

Both Blair and Cam nodded.

“Good.” Lucinda drained her coffee cup and set it carefully on a low cherrywood Federal table. “We have a slight problem that I think you can help us with.”

Blair stiffened. Cam remained completely still, but her eyes sharpened as she studied Lucinda’s face.

“The Company has lost an important asset, and they’d rather not inform their counterparts in the other divisions. Such a lapse is embarrassing, especially these days when everyone is a little unsure of who will remain top dog in the security world.”

“Is this conversation being taped?” Blair asked casually.

“Of course not.”

“No video cameras in here?”

“No.”

“Then do you think it would be possible,” Blair said, emphasizing each word, “for us to speak English, Lucinda?”