'I get a full briefing in the morning', Cam reminded her. 'We can go over the weeks itinerary after that.'
'Fine.'
'Ill be out of town for a day or so', Cam said quietly.
Blair stiffened, automatically withdrawing her hand from Cams arm. 'Oh?'
'If everything is quiet, Ill leave tomorrow night. Mac will have the detail.'
Blair opened her book again. 'Im sure he can handle it.'
Cam didnt reply, because she didnt have any explanation that she could share, and half-truths would only make things worse. They were both quiet on the rest of the flightBlair reading and Cam sleeping on and off. Despite the silence, however, they leaned close together, their bodies still touchingtheir connection not completely broken.
Chapter Fourteen
The jet taxied to a stop on the runway at Teterboro airport in New Jersey, just across the Hudson River from Manhattan, and the team prepared to disembark. Cam walked to the front of the plane and stood at the top of the stairway that had been rolled across the tarmac to the open door. She pressed a finger to the receiver in her ear and listened to the report of a local agent in the first of two black Suburbans that approached along an access road toward the terminal. Satisfied, she turned to the agent behind her.
'Two minutes. Lets proceed inside'.
Stark passed her and then Blair was beside her.
'Ready?' Cam asked her.
'Yes.'
As soon as Blair stepped onto the tarmac with Cam and Stark flanking her, a horde of reporters, apparently having hidden around the corner of the building, appeared out of the darkness with video cameras and microphones at the ready. Harsh halogen lights flashed on, striking her in the face and blinding her. For a moment Blair was disoriented-and afraid.
'Ms. Powell, can you comment on the photograph in the New York Post?'
'Who was the person with you?'
'Where was it taken?'
'Can you confirm that you were with a lover?'
'Who?'
'name'
'Ms. Powell... Ms. Powell... Ms. Powell...'
Voices accosted her from every direction.
As soon as the barrage began, Cam and Stark quickly began shepherding her toward the small single story terminal while the other agents clambered down the stairs and converged on her as well. Mac double-timed to get in front of the group while Hernandez, along with Felicia Davis, closed in behind. The entire team formed a human wedge with Blair in the center, and the reporters scurried to get out of the way of the fast moving wall of bodies.
Nevertheless, their shouted questions followed them through the door and into the private VIP portion of the terminal.
'What are they talking about?' Blair whispered harshly to Cam as soon as the double doors closed behind them. She hated to be manhandled, even when it was for her own good, and in that moment, Cam was the nearest target for her anger. 'Why didnt you know about them?'
'Whatever it is, it must have hit the wires after we were in the air, Cam muttered, lifting her wrist and barking questions into her microphone. After a moment of issuing instructions, she added, 'Whoever is monitoring the news services in DC either didn't pick it up, or didn't think we needed to know about it.'
Can was aggravated, because intelligence was critical for her to be able to anticipate and ward off problems. Had she known that a bevy of reporters would be waiting at the gate, she would have arranged for the transport to drive out onto the runway so that Blair would not have to walk to the terminal. 'I'm sorry about this. I didnt have an advance team on the groundI should have.'
'No', Blair shook her head, already calmer now that the unexpected assault had stopped. 'Its not your fault. Let's just collect our luggage and get out of here before they find their way in.'
'Dont worry', Cam said forbiddingly, her temper close to boiling. It was not only her responsibility to project Blair physically, but also to see that she was not ambushed by intrusive media hounds. She would have been angry if any of her protectees had been left open to such an affront, but the fact that it was her lover who had been subjected to the intrusive onslaught made it even worse. 'They wont bother you again.'
At that moment, Mac approached, a folded newspaper under his arm and a grim look on his face.
'What have you got?' Cam asked sharply. To her surprise, Mac blushed.
'Uh' He lifted the folded newspaper in his hand and glanced from Cam to Blair and then quickly away. 'You might want to look at this in car.'
'Let me see it,' Blair said, extending her hand. 'It's not going to get any better if I wait.'
Wordlessly, he handed it to her. The Secret Service agents standing around averted their eyes but did not move from the protective circle they had formed, shielding her from the rest of the terminal.
Cam watched Blair's face as she opened the newspaper and quickly scanned the front page. She couldn't detect the slightest change in Blair's expression. When Blair silently folded the newspaper again and put it and the book she had been carrying under her arm, Cam said abruptly, «Okay, then. Let's get out of here.'
Two of the men walked to be incoming baggage belt and collected everyone's bags, loading them quickly and efficiently onto a wheeled handcart. Within minutes, the team was once again ensconced in yet another pair of Suburbans and heading out of the airport toward the Lincoln Tunnel and Manhattan.
Stark and Davis were in the front while Blair and Cam occupied the rear. The agents who were off-duty had remained at the airport, making separate arrangements for cabs or family to pick them up there.
'Are you all right?' Cam asked. Blair had been silently staring out the window since they had gotten into the vehicle.
Turning to face her, Blair smiled, her face sad in the irregular illumination of passing headlights and flickering neon signs. 'I've been waiting for this. I was just sitting here, trying to think how long I've been waiting.'
Cam waited but when Blair said no more she simply took the newspaper that Blair passed to her across the space between their seats. She unfolded it and held it toward the window to catch enough light to read it. Prominently displayed below the fold were a picture and the caption, 'President's Daughter and Secret Lover?'
In a hazy, night shot a woman who looked very much like Blair could be seen kissing someone, although the other individual's identity was difficult to determine because of the camera angle and the obvious distance from which it had been taken.
'Son of a bitch,' Cam whispered. It was a photograph of the two of them on the beach in San Francisco, the first night that Cam had arrived from DC. She raised her eyes to Blair and said quietly, 'I'm sorry.'
'About what? The kiss or the photograph?'
'Definitely not the kiss.'
Blair nodded once, sharply. 'Good.'
Cam struggled in the poor light to read the short paragraph underneath the picture. It didn't say much - just the usual titillating inferences about Blair's alleged liaisons with movie stars, underworld kingpins or elected officials that were often linked to Blair in similar publications. Precisely because she was so private, and because the White House tried diligently to keep her out of the public eye unless it was a sanctioned official function, the press loved to conjecture about her love life. Except this time they were getting awfully close to the truth.
'I think it's interesting, Cam said after a minute, 'that they don't name names and they don't specifically state that you are with a woman. Whoever took this photograph must know.'
'I noticed that myself,' Blair said darkly. 'It's almost as if someone is teasing me-or taunting me. What do you make of it?'
'I don't have any idea.' Cam shook her head, angry for Blair at the invasion of her privacy and furious at herself for being so careless that she let someone close enough to get the shot. 'But what I want to know is where the hell he was and why my people didn't see him.'
