Blair shifted so that she could see Cam's face. "They already know it's you because we told them."

"True. We acknowledged that the newspaper photograph was of us and, in the process, dispelled some unseemly rumors about you. That was worth the exposure."

"Maybe. And maybe it wasn't so smart," Blair said quietly. "Mitchell practically drooled when he found out you were my lover. The press-—hell, the public—loves that kind of story. It could still come back on you professionally."

"It won't." And if it does, I'll deal with it She studied the storm brewing in her lover's eyes and couldn't decide if it was anger at the invasion of privacy or worry over her. "Hell, your father even supports me staying on as your security chief."

"Yes—that means a lot." Blair smiled, thinking just how much that meant now. "He asked about you today."

Cam's eyes darkened, and she straightened automatically.

"Oh? Does he have any concerns? I can report—"

Blair laughed. "Relax, lover. He wanted to know if you were okay about the press thing."

"What about the press?" Cam's confusion was clear.

"Oh God—you really don't think about yourself in the equation." She brushed her fingers over Cam's cheek. "He wanted to know if we were okay—if the media attention was bothering you."

"What? Does he think I'd walk away because of it? Walk out on you?" Cam's voice held an edge, and a muscle bunched along her jaw. "Maybe he and I should have a talk."

"Sweetheart?" Blair forced back another laugh even as her heart swelled with wonder and delight. "You can't take him on— he's the president."

"He's your father, too, and if he doesn't understand how much I love you, then he needs to."

"You mean it, don't you?" Blair's throat grew tight with the swift rush of emotion. "Oh, Cam. I can't quite get used to it, but I love how you love me."

Cam framed Blair's face gently with both hands. "I want you to feel it every day, everywhere, forever."

Blair turned her face and kissed Cam's palm. "I've never felt so special."

"Good," Cam whispered. "Now forget about the press. You're not required to provide any further information."

"They'll be hungry for more."

"They're always hungry." Cam leaned forward and kissed Blair, savoring the softness of her lips and the heat of her mouth. "Let them starve."

When they separated, Blair's voice was steady and sure. "It's time to go, Commander." She rose and held out a hand. "I have some ribbons to cut and a speech to make. After that, I'm hoping that my lover will take me out to dinner somewhere quiet and private."

The corner of Cam's mouth lifted as she took Blair's hand. "I'll be sure that she gets the message, Ms. Powell."

"See that you do."

Before they reached the elevators, Cam's mic vibrated. She lifted her wrist. "Roberts."

Advance team reporting. We've got unusually high media traffic on the main approach route, Commander.

"Numbers?"

Two dozen vehicles. Head count's a hundred and rising.

Cam's expression hardened. Crowd control and close-range security outside the hospital were now the critical issues. She could draft the hospital security force as backup, but they weren't trained for this kind of maneuver and would likely prove to be more hindrance than help. The last thing she needed was an overeager hospital guard manhandling a reporter. She wanted to prevent an incident, not precipitate one.

The official French security personnel were already posted as perimeter protection, and she would not leave her borders exposed by pulling them off that detail. The elevator doors opened, and she and Blair stepped on.

"Roger that." She keyed her mic to a different frequency. "Mac."

Go ahead, Commander.

"Your vehicle will take the lead. Egret's will follow."

Roger that.

"Trouble?" Blair asked quietly.

"Nothing to worry about," Cam replied smoothly.

"Don't try that with me, Cameron."

Cam sighed. As they exited into the main lobby, Stark and Felicia moved in on either side, falling into step as Blair walked toward the front doors. "The media are out in force. We may need to adjust."

"Just get me through them."

"Absolutely."

Mac, Reynolds, and Fielding waited under the canopy on the sidewalk. As soon as Blair appeared, they turned and moved ahead of her so that she was ringed by agents.

Blair glanced at Cam. "What's with the close-range coverage?" She spoke quietly, so that Felicia and Stark did not hear.

"I forget," Cam murmured as the men fanned out by the side of the second Peugeot and she reached for the rear door handle, "that you know so much about what we do."

"You're stalling," Blair observed as Cam held the door and she slid with practiced ease into the vehicle.

Cam settled next to her while Stark got behind the wheel and Felicia took the front passenger seat. A pane of Plexiglas with a built-in speaker separated the passenger compartments. "The news release this morning introduces an unknown factor into our usual security protocol. Being out of the country amplifies that. I'm being cautious."

"You're always cautious." Blair smiled fondly and rested her hand once again on Cam's thigh. "I've come to expect that. One thing I've always felt with you is safe."

"Thank you." Briefly, Cam covered Blair's hand with her own and squeezed. "Of all the things I hope you feel because of me, that's one of the most important."

"I know., It isn't something I was looking for, and certainly not something I expected to find with another person."

"Then I'm truly honored." Cam gave an apologetic shrug. "I need to ignore you for a bit while I work."

Blair settled back, her face composed and her eyes distant. "I know. You go ahead. I'll see you later."

1549 16Aug01

The view through the high-powered scope was a few inches of sidewalk directly in front of the main entrance to the Institut. At the moment nothing showed between the crosshairs other than concrete. But in eleven minutes, a vehicle would slide to the curb and the first agent would step out. In the span of ten seconds, she would look first straight ahead and then left and right before finally swiveling to look back over the top of the vehicle to the buildings across the street. Unlike his predecessor, he would not allow a glint of sunlight on steel or twitch of nerves to give his position away. He would see her, but she would not see him. At that point, he would have a clear shot directly between her eyes.

By eleven seconds after arrival, the front doors would open, and the agent in the passenger seat would step to the end of the open rear door while the driver circled the vehicle to flank the lead agent.

At fifteen seconds, the primary target would emerge. Within twenty seconds, the tightly positioned group would begin moving, making his shot more difficult. That five-second span between her exit from the vehicle and her first step was his window of opportunity. More than enough time.

Cam opened a channel to the advance team. "Advance team— report."

It's a mess, Commander. You'll need to slow to under 10 kph just to get down the street to the entrance.

"What's the situation streetside?"

We've cordoned off the sidewalk, but it's a long approach. Time to full cover four minutes.

The original estimate had been two.

"Assessment?" She didn't like the fact that the motorcade would need to slow to a crawl for the length of the boulevard in front of the Institut. They'd make very good targets at that speed. She especially did not like that it would take twice as long as expected to get Egret into the building. Even with no specific intelligence indicating an elevated threat level, anything that forced her into a defensive position raised her suspicions. Ten seconds passed with no response. "Rogers—are we clear on current course or not?"

His hesitation only added to Cam's reservations. Phil Rogers had done advance work for the team before, and she found him thorough and astute. His eye-level read of the situation was critical, but ultimately only her assessment mattered.

I would categorize the situation as suboptimal but secure, Commander.

"Very well, Agent Rogers. Stand by."

Cam leaned forward and activated the global positioning system on the computer built into the partition between the front and rear seats. She worked the keyboard rapidly, zooming in on the Paris street map until she brought up the six square blocks surrounding their destination. When she entered a series of coordinates, three alternate routes outlined in red, yellow, and green appeared on the grid.

"If we sneak around the reporters," Blair said quietly, "it will look as if I'm afraid to confront the issue."

"You've already confronted the issue," Cam pointed out, her eyes still on the screen.

"I want to go in the front door as planned. I won't have it seem that I'm ashamed."

Cam opened another channel. "Mac, divert to Alt Route Yellow."

Roger that.

After repeating the same instructions to Stark, she contacted the advance team again. "ETA nine minutes—-switching to ARY. We'll use the emergency entrance on the south side."

Roger that.

"Cam—"

"I can't be concerned with appearances." Cam met Blair's irritated gaze unwaveringly. "I'm sorry."

"My father was right not to remove you from this post," Blair observed flatly. "Your involvement with me doesn't affect the way you do the job. I should've remembered that."

Cam wasn't certain if that was a criticism or not, but she didn't have time to consider it.