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adequate security for Ms. Powell's transport to the hospital. Once there, I assume there will be other
members of your team available to assist."
Blair shot her a grateful look.
Mac relented, because he couldn't physically restrain the First Daughter, and it was plain to him that she
was going one way or the other. "All right then, let's do it."
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*****
At first all she could see through the car window as they approached the hospital were emergency
vehicles parked haphazardly in the small lot in front of the entrance. Light bars atop ambulances and
police cars sent intersecting beams of red and blue strobing wildly into the night sky, reflecting eerily off
the double glass doors of the trauma bay. Hospital personnel and law enforcement officers of all
description rushed everywhere. She searched the crowd of State Police, plain-clothes federal agents and
SWAT team members in full riot gear, but the one unmistakable form she sought was absent.
God damn it Cam, don't you dare do this. Don't you leave me now.
Blair realized that she wasn't breathing. She also realized that there would be reporters there by now.
And photographers. By the time Felicia Davis held the door open for her and she stepped from the car,
she had composed herself.
Mac took her right arm and began to draw her through the crowd. Lindsey Ryan was just behind her left
shoulder and Felicia Davis cleared the way in front. When they reached the sliding glass doors that
marked the trauma entrance, a large harried-looking hospital security guard blocked their way.
"Sorry. You can't go back there."
Mac extended his right hand with his badge, but the guard's attention had focused on Blair. His eyes
widened slightly, and he said in a slightly awed tone, "Miss Powell! I - uh - I didn't recognize you - sorry
- uh - just one minute. I'll get a detachment to escort you."
"No," Mac said sharply. "That's not necessary." The last thing he wanted was a bunch of star struck
guards trying to be helpful and making his job more difficult. "We just need to get back to the triage area.
Can you direct us?
The security officer looked like he was about to protest, but he must have seen something in Mac's face
that made him change his mind. "Straight on through, past the automatic doors at the end of the hall," he
responded crisply. "It's a mess back there, though."
Once inside the main admitting region, the noise level dropped, but there were still scores of people
clogging the hallway and emergency carts and equipment everywhere. Blair stared at the floor, and
realized that the congealing trails of crimson were blood.
"Oh god," she whispered faintly.
Lindsey looked at her in concern. "Why don't we find someplace less public to wait while Mac finds the
others?"
"Let's go back to the treatment area and I'll see what I can find out," Mac agreed. He was feeling a little
overwhelmed himself. He and Ellen Grant had worked together for several years, even before Egret's
detail, and they were friends. He liked Renee Savard. And the Commander - how he felt about her was
too complicated to explain. He just knew he didn't want to think abouther going down again. When they
stepped through the solid gray doors bearing the sign, "Trauma Admitting - Authorized Personnel Only",
he was relieved to see a familiar figure in the doorway of one of the treatment cubicles.
"Stark!" he called.
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Stark stared at them, looking slightly dazed. There was blood on her shirt and hands, and a darkening
smear along the angle of her jaw. Before she could respond, she was forced to step aside as a transport
team came out of the room behind her, pushing a stretcher bearing a portable respirator, bags of
intravenous fluid and blood, and a cardiac defibrillator. Barely recognizable in the midst of the equipment
lay Renee Savard.
Blair caught only a brief glance of Savard's pale, unresponsive face as the medical team rushed her down
the hall toward the elevators. Stark started after the stretcher, but a nurse gently took her arm and
murmured something to her. A moment later the elevator doors slid closed and Savard was gone. Stark's
shoulders slumped and she leaned heavily against the wall. When Mac began to move toward her, Blair
stopped him.
"Just a minute, Mac. Let me talk to her."
He nodded. "I'll go find someone who can tell me what's going on."
Blair stepped forward and put both hands on Stark's shoulders. She looked intently into her face.
"Paula," she said gently, "are you hurt? You're covered in blood."
"It's hers," Stark said, her voice choked and low. Her gaze met Blair's, a world of agony swimming
below the surface of her dark eyes. "There was so much of it. I tried - the best I could. It wouldn't seem
to stop."
"Where is Cam, Paula?" Blair asked, trying hard to keep calm.Let her be here. Just let her be all right.
"Agent Stark?"
Stark was clearly in shock, but if someone didn't tell her something soon, Blair was afraid that she might
start running up and down the halls screaming out Cam's name. She was about to come apart and she
was scared to death that she would never get the pieces together again. "Stark," she whispered
desperately, "please."
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