Business address: NA
Business Agent: Diane Bleeker
Code Name: Egret
Physical Description: WF, 58', 120 lbs.
Hair: Blonde, Eyes: Blue.
Distinguishing marks: 2 cm scar right eyebrow, 3cm tattoo
right posterior shoulder ( purple and blue labyris)
Medical Conditions: None
Allergies: None
Significant relationships: (SEE ATTACHED REPORTS)
Romantic: Current - unverified
Last known - classified, FYEO file
Summary: Standard twenty-four hour rotating shift surveillance. Subject schedule fluid, frequently unverifiable. Communication link: Team commander only per subject request. On-person com links refused.
___
The file was bare bones minimum, and Cam wondered what her predecessor wasnt willing to commit to hard copy. Shed find out soon enough. He was meeting her at the airport for a debriefing.
She sipped her coffee and slipped the thin folder that held the Eyes Only report on Egrets last known lover from her briefcase. She read it carefully, her expression betraying nothing. According to this, until eighteen months ago, the Presidents daughter had been having an affair with the wife of the French Ambassador. For obvious reasons, the relationship had been kept under deep cover, although rumors had floated in the security community for years about the sexual leanings of Blair Powell. Part of Cams job was to see that those rumors remained just that. Her job would be doubly hard if the subject refused to cooperate.
She wondered briefly if her appointment as commander of the security detail assigned to Ms. Powell hadnt been due to her own sexual preferences. It wasnt a matter of record, of course, but no one really believed that any one in the governments employ had any secrets. She had been careful, but certainly not paranoid, about her personal life. After the events of a year ago, she doubted there was much her superiors didnt know. Speculation was futile, and pointless. She knew for certain she didnt care.
She fed the file recounting the details of Blair Powells love life into the shredder at the front of the plane as she exited.
**********
'Sorry to transition on the run,' Daniel Ryan remarked as they settled into a booth in the airport cafeteria. 'I have to catch the next flight out.'
'No problem,' Cam replied neutrally.
'Mac Phillips, who will basically be your aide, has the apartment building plans, evac routes, and hospital info ready to review with you as soon as you arrive. Your NYPD liason is Lieutenant Marcia Landers; shes Hostage Rescue. She usually interfaces with the police patrol division commander, Lieutenant Chuck Thayer, if Egret is travelling to some public function. Both good people. Otherwise, we cover her internally.'
'Uh huh,' Cam said casually. Everything he was telling her could have easily been relayed by anyone on the team. She was waiting for him to get to the point of this private meeting.
He watched her watching him. Her rep was that she was a real straight arrow, by-the-book agent. Shed have to be to get this post. She certainly looked the part. Her short dark hair was perfectly trimmed, neat around her ears, collar length in back; her suit was without a wrinkle, and perfectly tailored to her tight, trim build; she didnt display a hint of nerves, or anything else - assessing him with intense, piercing gray eyes. Her bio said shed been in the investigative unit for twelve years. Why shed been reassigned to the protective division was anybodys guess. Beyond that scant information, she was a cipher. He couldnt find anyone who had inside knowledge about her, and no one had heard even a whisper that she was anything other than an obsessively dedicated agent. He met her gaze and made a decision.
'Can we talk off the record here?'
'Go ahead,' Cam responded.
'Every day for the last six months I woke up wondering who I had pissed off to get this assignment,' he said with a shake of his head. 'Egret is practically impossible to protect because she doesnt want us around. Shes had eleven years of practice misleading us, evading us, and generally humiliating us when it comes to surveillance. Shes like Jeckyl and Hyde. At public functions, shes fine - cooperative, even friendly. Privately, she does everything she can to make our job hell. She refuses to discuss her schedule with anyone except the team commander. Congratulations. Then she changes plans without telling anyone. We almost never have time to adjust vehicle placement or equipment, so we have to shadow her on foot, which in New York City is a nightmare. She absolutely refuses to wear a microphone or any other tracking device, even on direct instruction from the President.' He handed her two photographs. 'Then theres this.'
She studied the shots side be side. The first was a standard publicity picture, a close up of Blair Powell at the opening of the Reagan Library earlier that year. As usual, she looked poised and confidant. Her blonde hair was swept back from her face, held with a silver clasp at the base of her neck. Her makeup was understated and flawless, serving only to accentuate the natural elegance of her sculpted face and clear, smooth skin. Her designer dress highlighted her sleek form, complimenting both her athleticism and her subtle softness. She was, in a word, beautiful.
The second photo was a candid taken when the subject was unaware. It was grainy, suggesting it had been taken from a unit with a telephoto lens. The details, however, were clear. The woman in the photo wore tight faded jeans and a white cotton tank top. Her breasts, firm and well-shaped, were clearly evident beneath the thin material and unencumbered by a brassiere. The clothes displayed her long legs, sleek torso, and toned limbs with brazen explicitness. Her collar length blonde hair hung free around her face, mildly curly, looking as if she had simply run her hands through it in lieu of a comb. She wore no make-up, and didnt look like she needed any. She exuded an energy that was palpable even in the poor photo. She projected the sensuality of a jungle cat, and looked about as dangerous. She bore almost no resemblance to the contained, refined woman in the first shot.
Cam handed him the photographs silently. It was his show.
'No one in the general public recognizes her like that, and sometimes it even takes us a minute or two. In that time, she can disappear in the crowd, walk into a restaurant unnoticed, get into a cab without a fuss. Thats why its so easy for her to lose us. No one points a finger at her, or runs after her trying to get an autograph.'
