Honor Bound

"Stark just radioed her position, Commander," Mac said when Cam walked over to the communications station at command central. "Egret is en route to the aerie."

"Good," Cam responded, glancing at her watch. "It's almost 1100 hours. I'll inform her of the security changes at my scheduled 1300 briefing with her. Would you confirm that meeting time with her upon arrival, please."

"Will do." He studied her as she stood glancing at the monitors, trying to read her mood. He couldn't miss the undercurrent of strain in her voice, but he supposed it could just be due to the sudden escalation of the situation with Lover Boy. Considering the recent revelations concerning the ongoing covert FBI task force, anyone else would have been raging about the outside interference and the infringement on their authority, but she looked just like she always did. Calm and controlled. Too calm, maybe. The kind of utter stillness you feel just before the bomb explodes.

"You can page me if you need me before then," she said, turning to leave. She needed to run off some tension. She had a splitting headache, which she attributed to her uneasy sleep. She didn't want to consider that the pounding ache behind her eyes might be due to the fact that she couldn't stop wondering if Blair had slept alone the night before.

As she turned to leave, Mac muttered, "Uh oh, this looks like trouble."

She turned back suddenly to the monitors, her heart racing. "What have we got?" She followed his eyes to the central screen that gave a view of the building's double entrance doors and the doorman's desk just to one side in the lobby. Taylor, on day shift, could be seen checking the identification of two individuals, one of whom she recognized immediately.

"Here come the cavalry," she complained under her breath. She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Contact Stark and tell her I want her up here ASAP. Then bring our visitors back to the conference room. Get someone to take over out here for you."

"Yes ma'am," Mac said as he watched the man and woman cross the lobby toward the elevators. He had an almost irresistible urge to stand outside the door of the command center and bare his teeth. The first major battle of the turf war was about to begin.

"This is Special Agent Renee Savard," Patrick Doyle said officiously, indicating the woman with him. "She'll be assigned as personal guard to Egret until further notice."

Cam sensed Stark stiffen next to her. She commended her restraint but expected no less of her. She regarded Doyle implacably, happy to see that he was beginning to perspire. Her voice was totally even as she responded, "I have a full complement of experienced agents, Agent Doyle. Agent Stark is currently functioning as Egret's primary guard. I don't need anyone else."

Mac kept his mouth shut, watching the volleys flow back and forth across the table between the two senior agents. It'd been like this for the last thirty minutes, ever since SAC Doyle had arrived to 'inform' the Commander about the reorganization of Egret's security detail. It was clear that Doyle didn't have carte blanche from the security chief in DC, or he just would've walked in and taken command. But he was trying to bully his way to the top anyway. The Commander had been cool and composed and unyielding as stone. She hadn't given one inch, and he thought Doyle was starting to crack from sheer frustration. The guy clearly wasn't used to playing hardball.

"Look, Roberts," Doyle grated, his fists clenched on the stack of folders in front of him, "I can't run the task force effectively without an inside agent."

"You've been running it for months without one," Cam observed mildly, "although, as you say, not particularly effectively." She was still incensed that he had had the arrogance to keep the Secret Service on the outside when Blair was in imminent danger. On the other hand, she needed his intelligence as much as he needed her access. Her game, her rules, however. "I'll be happy to have Agent Savard come on board as a liaison. She cannot, however, function as Egret's security. She's not trained for it, and I don't know her."

Across from her, Doyle flushed. Next to him, the striking coffee- skinned woman lifted piercing blue eyes to Cam's with a flicker of anger. Cam continued, unperturbed. "In return, I expect daily briefings pertaining to any new information you might have."

"Are you suggesting that an FBI agent can't be trusted to secure the President's daughter?" Doyle demanded angrily, half-rising from his seat.

Cam stood, gathering her papers. She glanced at Doyle casually. "I don't knowhow an FBI agent would react if Egret's life were at stake. Ido know how every one of my people would respond. This isn't the time for on-the-job training."

"With respect, Commander," Renee Savard said forcefully, "I am fully prepared to assume responsibility for Egret's safety. I would like the opportunity to carry out my assignment."

Cam studied her, impressed by her composure when it was clear that she was insulted. Still, this wasn't about personal feelings. This was about the willingness of one person to die for another. Secret Service agents were carefully screened and extensively tested to determine their psychological willingness to sacrifice themselves for an individual, or in many cases, an ideology. For better or for worse, this was what it took to do the job they did. The FBI and the Secret Service were not interchangeable, and she would not relax her requirements now, when the possibility of sacrifice was more than probable.

"Your request is duly noted, Agent. However, Agent Stark is primary on Egret's detail. If she can find a way for you to assist her, that's fine. And that's the best I can do for you."

She turned around and walked out, leaving the two Secret Service agents and the two FBI agents measuring one another across the expanse of the conference table.

"I want a close-up look at your surveillance system and an overview of your tactical routines," Doyle finally demanded of Mac, trying to regain some semblance of dominance.

Mac stood politely, taking a page from his commander's book, and said, "I can show you the relay station and the closed-circuit monitors. Right this way." He ignored Doyle's hard stare and his obvious displeasure. He wasn't going to offer any information on their video camera placement, building motion sensors, advance site preparation protocols or anything else without the Commander's clearance.

Stark and Savard sat in silence for a moment. Start considered any number of options, including her preference, which was to stick Savard with Mac in the control room. She was still smarting from the fact that she had been the object of an internal FBI review and had actually been considered a suspect in the shooting that almost killed her commander. She was also struggling with her own guilt over the fact that she had allowed Egret to unwittingly place herself in danger by eluding their surveillance. She needed to make amends, if to no one other than herself, and she wasn't going to miss her opportunity to do that. She didn't want any interference from the FBI.

"I'm not trying to take your job," Savard said, surprising Stark with her bluntness. "I'm just trying to do mine."

Stark blushed, wishing that she were better at hiding her feelings. She envied the Commander her ability to keep all of her feelings inside, something she had not yet learned to do. She regarded the other woman steadily, thinking that she didn't quite fit the standard FBI mold. She wore the requisite navy blue jacket and slacks, with a tailored pale blue shirt and the hint of a bulge over her left hip where her weapon was holstered.Cross draw , Stark thought absently. She was fit looking and projected an air of confidence, but Stark would've expected that as well. What she hadn't expected was the challenge in her intense blue eyes that was surprisingly without malice. She also couldn't help noticing that Savard was beautiful, beautiful in the way that cover models were beautiful, with elegant cheekbones and an exotic expression that suggested the Islands lingered somewhere not far in her background. Stark tried not to think about that as she answered, "My job is to safeguard the President's daughter. I'm not sure what your job is supposed to be."

"My job is to apprehend Lover Boy. Since Egret is what we have in common, I suggest we try to work together."

"I already have a partner," Stark said, but her resistance was wavering. It was hard not to respond to Renee Savard's compelling directness. "But there's room for a third," she finally relented, "as long as you don't interfere with me doing my job."

Renee Savard studied her opposite number. She envied Paula Stark. It was clear that Stark's formidable commander respected her abilities and awarded her with the appropriate responsibility. She wished very much that she could expect the same from Patrick Doyle, but she certainly didn't count on it. She had to admit, she also liked the way the dark haired, feisty young agent tilted her chin in a faintly aggressive posture as she staked out her territory. Under other circumstances, she might have considered her cute.

"That seems fair to me," Savard said, standing and extending her hand across the table. "Looking forward to working with you, Agent Stark."