'We've all waited long enough,' Doyle said. He looked pointedly at Cam, his expression accusatory. 'Too long.'
Cam knew that she had very little to say about an FBI operation. It wasn't what she would've done, but her primary concern was Blair's security, and she admitted to herself reluctantly that the FBI were well within their rights to attempt apprehension their own way.
She pushed back her chair, having registered her dissent. That was all she could do. 'I'd appreciate it if you kept us informed of the timetable. In the meantime, I'm going to have my team continue analyzing the videos and photos from the park.'
This time, Doyle couldn't hide his triumphant grin.
'No problem there, Roberts. You'll be informed since we're going to be using one of your agents to work the decoy.'
Cam placed both hands flat on the table and leaned forward, her body coiled with tension as if she might spring from her chair. Her voice was low, dangerously low, when she said, 'No, Doyle, you are not. My agents are Secret Service agents. They arenot decoys for the FBI.'
Doyle shrugged. 'It's already been cleared. We need someone with firsthand knowledge of Egret in case we get into a situation where a verbal exchange with the UNSUB is necessary. I can't brief a new agent on the kinds of things he might ask. The decoy needs to be one of yours.'
For a minute, Cam couldn't think through her fury. Doyle had gone behind her back and essentially conscripted one of her agents for a potentially lethal mission. She stood, struggling to maintain her composure. None of them had had much sleep in the last seventy-two hours, and she was riding the thin edge of control. She had lost one man already. She was not going to lose another. 'This is not going to happen, Doyle.'
'It's not up to you,' Doyle said, rising also. 'It's been approved and your agent has already accepted the assignment.'
Cam glanced quickly at Stark, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. Clearly, she knew nothing of Doyle's plan.
'This meeting is over,' Cam snapped as she turned and walked out the door. Another second and she would have had her hands on his throat again.
Cam stalked through the command room, barking, 'Grant! With me.'
Ellen Grant jumped to her feet and hurried to follow her tall commander as she pushed through the door into the outer hallway. The elevator ride down to the lobby was chillingly silent. As they approached the double glass doors, Grant said quietly, 'Commander, I-'
'In a minute, Grant,' Cam said sharply, working hard to quell her desire to punch Patrick Doyle in the face. Ellen Grant washer agent -- hers to command, hers to protect. He had come between her and someone she was responsible for, and that was a serious miscalculation on his part. She could tolerate his personal affronts, but she would not tolerate anyone interfering with what was hers.
Grant set her jaw and prepared herself for an upbraiding. It would be hard to take coming from Roberts, because she respected her.
They crossed the street and Cam unlocked the ornate park gates, stepping through with Grant on her heels. Once they were inside, Cam slowed so that Grant could walk by her side. Cam looked at her and said, 'Do you want to tell me what happened between you and SAC Doyle?'
Grant stared straight ahead, her tone subdued as she replied, 'He contacted me this morning while you were on the phone with Washington. He told me he would need me for an undercover operation to apprehend Loverboy.' She swallowed, recalling the strange conversation. 'I told him he should speak with you, but he informed me the decision had already been made in Washington. He said that he needed my answer then.'
She looked into Cam's face, her tone unapologetic. 'I told him yes.'
They had reached a secluded corner of the park, not far from where Cam had sat with Blair only days before. They stood under the shade of a weeping willow, Cam with her hands balled into fists in the pockets of her trousers, Grant unconsciously at attention.
'I'm not going to let you do this, Grant,' Cam said quietly, although her voice vibrated with tension. 'You're a Secret Service agent, not FBI. This is an undercover decoy operation, and you're not trained for it.'
Grant straightened even further, a set look of determination on her face. 'Commander, I respectfully disagree. I was a cop before I joined the Service. I can do this.'
Cam smiled slightly, expecting nothing less from the spit and polish Grant. She was a solid agent in every respect, and Cam did not doubt her abilities. Nevertheless, she was not going to lose another agent, not in an operation that spelled disaster from the onset. There were too many people involved and not enough coordination. Janet had been a trained undercover detective, and she had died in an operation just like this. Cam wasn't going to lose anyone else.
'Agent Grant, I have never doubted your abilities. I value your contribution to this team, and I trust Egret to your care. This is something altogether different, and it'snot going to happen.'
Grant met Cam's eyes and she spoke her mind. 'Commander, you may not have anything to say about this. I'm not certain that anyone can override SAC Doyle at this point. If I'm needed, and if I'm ordered, I'll do it. And do it willingly. Jeremy Finch is dead. You were almost killed.' She hesitated for moment, and then said quietly, 'The next time, Commander, he may be too angry to settle for a substitute. The next time it might be Egret. Commander, I want this assignment.'
Cam looked past Grant's shoulder up to the penthouse of Blair's apartment building. They couldn't keep her up there forever. She doubted they could even keep her up there for a few days, nor did she really want to.
Blair was suffering - from the guilt of others dying in her place and from the conflict of being at once exposed
