enemies of the state (35 page)

“We’re at the summer palace of one of my intelligence contacts, Faisal. He’s a prince in the royal family, but somewhat of a black sheep. He runs the Saudi Intelligence Directorate. I’ve connected with him on Gulf intelligence before.” Lieutenant Cooper stood, setting down his weapon. His black T-shirt was impeccably tucked into his black combat pants, his boots perfectly shined.

“Why are we here?” Ethan still couldn’t figure it out. Why were they in some Saudi prince’s palace instead of at a US base?

Dread grasped him, choking the breath from his lungs. “Oh God. Is Jack…” Wild eyes flashed to Collard. He’d seen Jack be pulled out by the Brits, but what if something happened on the helo?

“The president is safe. He’s back in DC.” Collard looked down at his clasped hands.

“Hey!” Doc shouted from the pillow he was leaning back on and clicked off the mute button on the remote. “It’s starting! Guys, c’mere!”

“What’s starting?” Ethan struggled to sit up. On the TV, coffins lay in a long line, draped with American flags. Jack stood at the front of the group, his face a cold mask, and hard.

“Our funerals,” Cooper said. “We’re dead.”

Ethan stared at Collard. His mouth fell open, but no words came out. How, why, and who danced in his mind, questions he couldn’t find the words to say.

“It was our own government,” Collard grunted. “Our own government killed us.”

Chapter Fifteen

President Spiers Attends Funerals for Agents and Marine Special Forces Team Lost in Ethiopia

President Spiers attended the funeral today held for the two Secret Service agents and the Marine Corps Special Forces Raider team lost in Ethiopia. All were laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. The president was noticeably emotional during the service. He openly wept as Agent Reichenbach’s name and service record was read aloud. Agent Reichenbach had been the lead agent assigned to the presidential protective detail, and reports from the White House indicate the two had a close working relationship. Agent Reichenbach did not have a family member present at the funeral. His folded flag was presented to President Spiers, who held the flag to his chest as he fought back tears. Later, the president rested his hand on Agent Reichenbach’s casket, standing at his side for over a minute.

The president’s actions come amid swirls of rumors that there was more between the president and his openly gay lead detail Secret Service agent than what has been confirmed by the White House. Rumors from unnamed sources report that the two spent extensive time off-duty together, and that Agent Reichenbach was regularly seen in the Residence socializing with the president. Some have even accused the president and Agent Reichenbach of having a gay love affair. Reportedly, Agent Reichenbach spent the night in the Residence “more than once.”

* * * * *

Jack slammed his hand down on his desk. “No! Dammit, I don’t care! I’m not going to drag Ethan’s name through the mud by answering these rumors! It’s predatory journalism!”

Pete Reyes, Jack’s press secretary, stood quietly in front of Jack’s desk. Gottschalk frowned.

“Sir, these news reports are only gaining strength. People on the Hill are starting to ask if there should be an investigation,” Gottschalk said carefully.

“An investigation? Into what? My personal life isn’t anyone’s business.”

“But Ethan violating the Secret Service’s regulations and putting your life in danger
is
Congress’s business.” Gottschalk sighed. “I’m not saying that’s what happened,” he said quickly, trying to push off Jack’s almost-explosion of rage. “But I am saying that’s what it appears to be, based on the reports in the media.”

“Fuck,” Jack hissed. He threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. His hands threaded through his hair and then gripped the back of his head. “What do you both recommend? To end this,” he growled.

Reyes and Gottschalk shared a long look. It was Gottschalk who finally spoke. “We recommend you address these reports.”

“You want me to talk about these rumors—”

“But they’re not rumors, sir,” Gottschalk interrupted. “They’re not rumors. You and Ethan were intimately involved.”

Silence.

“And if there’s an investigation, and if people have to testify, that will all come out under sworn statements. Do you want it to go that far? Or do you want to get ahead of the disclosure and manage it your way?”

Jack’s eyes slid closed. He exhaled, long and slow. “I want to jump off a cliff,” he finally said.

Gottschalk and Reyes stared at him.

“I’ll think about it,” he said softly. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to talk about Ethan, not without his permission. He’s a private guy. He wouldn’t want this.”

“Well, sir, Ethan isn’t here.” Gottschalk swallowed. “We are. We have to figure this out and keep you in office.”

“I don’t really care about this office anymore, Jeff.” He didn’t much care about anything. Not anymore. “Where are we with Congress authorizing our deployments into Syria?”

“They’re dragging their feet, sir. We’ve got bipartisan support for the bill, but not enough. Holdouts on the right say that it’s too expensive, and we can’t afford another ten-year quagmire in the Middle East. The left says that we have no business interfering in Syria, and we’ll just mess things up more.”

Jack cursed. No matter what, no matter how much he tried to do the right thing, no matter that America’s European allies and the Russians were all working together for the first time in almost a century, there was always someone working against him. All he wanted was to eliminate these monsters, and to do it for Ethan’s memory. After that… Jack didn’t particularly care where he went, or what he did.

“Make it happen, Jeff. I’ll…I’ll figure out what to say about Ethan.”

Gottschalk and Reyes nodded. They headed for the door.

“Jeff?” Jack stared out the window. In the Rose Garden, the leaves were changing colors, swirling from the trees and painting the lawn in the colors of autumn. Fall had embraced Washington. A chill was in the air, and it was the right time to start a fire and cozy up in bed with Ethan.

Except…

“Sir?” Gottschalk pressed when Jack was silent.

“Have you seen Agent Daniels?” Jack turned back to Gottschalk, ignoring the flutter of autumn leaves on the White House lawn. “I haven’t seen him since Aviano.”

Gottschalk shook his head. “No, sir. I heard from Agent Inada that Daniels hasn’t shown up for his shifts.”

Inada had taken over the presidential detail, wide-eyed and shell-shocked at the loss of his friends.

“Please find him,” Jack said softly. “I want to talk with Levi Daniels.”

* * * * *

Ethan sparred with Collard, moving through a practiced round of punches and kicks across Faisal’s palatial sunroom. The couches had all been pushed to one wall, the cushions piled on top, and the Marines called out points and heckled Ethan good-naturedly. Cooper perched on the arm of one of the couches, watching with a small smile.

Calling a break, Ethan backed off, dripping sweat, and reached for a bottle of water. He was building up his strength, and after a final checkup from Faisal’s doctor, he’d been given the go ahead to start working out again. His knee still twinged, but he wrapped it every day. His ribs ached, but he pushed through the pain.

“You’re doing better, Ethan.” Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “Looking good.”

Ethan nodded, chugging his water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When is Faisal landing?”

Faisal, the mysterious royal benefactor sheltering them in his palace, wasn’t on the grounds when Ethan woke up. He had to go on an urgent trip, and the prince had told Cooper that he’d be back within a few days.

“He should have already landed. He’ll be here soon.” Cooper grinned. “Want to go a round with me?”

Ethan shook his head. “Not just yet.”

Walking away, he ignored Cooper’s long stare and Collard’s sullen silence. Collard had struggled to hold his gaze for days.

Ethan just wasn’t up for jokes, or for games, or for playing basketball in the prince’s courtyard or horsing around in the pool. This wasn’t a vacation. Someone in the government had tried to kill them, and if there was someone trying to kill them, then how safe was Jack? More than anything, Ethan wanted to hop on the next flight and head back to DC, grab Jack, and get him to safety.

But where was safety? Who could they trust? General Madigan had been leading the rescue mission for Ethan personally. Was he responsible for the cover up? If not, then who?

And how did Al-Karim know that Ethan was Jack’s lover? How had that information traveled from the walls of the White House and the clenched lips of the Navy stewards to the ears of the most wanted terrorist in the world? Who knew—truly knew—about the two of them? Ethan’s stomach knotted as he counted.

Someone had fed information to Al-Karim about Ethan and about Jack. Someone had set them up in Ethiopia. And someone had wanted Ethan to stay dead.

Watching Jack on the television at his funeral had nearly ripped his heart out. Jack’s tears gutted him, and when Jack accepted his folded flag, he’d simply looked so lost, so achingly alone, and so heartbroken that it took everything in Ethan to not rush to his side that day, and damn his injuries. Only Collard holding him back, and Cooper explaining the depths of their pile of shit, kept him in the palace.

Each day that went by tore his heart to shreds. Each hour that ticked by, he wanted to scream. Jack was alone. Jack thought he was dead. Jack was in danger, and he wasn’t by his side.

And he missed Jack. He missed his voice, his laughter, his touch. He missed burrowing close to him at night and waking with his warm body in his arms. He missed the light in his eyes and the touch of his lips. He missed everything about Jack with an ache that surpassed anything broken in his body.

He had to get back. He’d do anything to get back to Jack’s side.

* * * * *

Faisal arrived at the palace in a black limo early that afternoon. His royal security team escorted the young prince as Ethan watched from the upstairs window of the bedroom that had become his.

Faisal wasn’t alone. An Asian man followed behind, wearing a plain suit and dark glasses.

He looked up, meeting Ethan’s gaze, before heading inside.

Ethan met Faisal and the unknown visitor in the room the Marines had taken over as their own. It was the sunroom, or as much as he could figure, that’s what it was. On the patio, the Marines on Cooper’s team stopped their basketball game and jogged inside, leaning against the curtained doorway, sweating buckets and wiping their faces with the hems of their shirts.

Cooper greeted Faisal warmly and embraced him, and he then kissed both of the prince’s cheeks. Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He stayed in the back, his arms crossed in the shadows of the hallway that led back to his space.

Across the room, Collard’s gaze bored into Ethan, but he ignored his friend’s stare.

The Asian man in the suit surveyed the group. He ignored everyone else, but smiled when his eyes landed on Ethan. “Agent Reichenbach,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I recognize your face from the American media. I’m sure your president will be delighted to learn that you are, indeed, alive.”

Ethan’s hackles instantly rose. His back snapped straight, and his jaw clenched. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Cooper’s eyebrows rose as he stared at Faisal, waiting for an answer.

“My name is Colonel Song, of the Central Military Commission in the People’s Republic of China. Mr. Faisal and I are partners.” He smiled again.

“Faisal…” Cooper stepped back.

Dread pooled in Ethan’s belly. He wanted nothing to do with the Central Military Commission in China.

Cooper continued. “We’re not interested in Chinese involvement. This is way outside our agreement.”

Faisal turned apologetic brown eyes to Cooper. “Lieutenant, he is already involved. The Colonel has been involved in this situation for longer than you know. He knows—”

“Did you set this up?” Ethan roared. “Are you responsible for this?” He stalked forward, glaring. All around the sunroom, Cooper’s men were spreading out, some reaching casually for their weapons, others getting ready for a brawl.

“Agent Reichenbach, calm down,” Colonel Song said. “I am not responsible for your attack.”

“Why are you here?” Ethan bellowed. “Why are any of us here?” His rage bubbled over, boiling inside of him. He wanted to rip apart the world and get back to Jack’s side, and instead, he was stuck in a prince’s palace and getting talked down to by a Chinese colonel. Enough of this. He was done. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Ethan…” Collard’s voice, a warning and a plea, rang out across the room.

“Hey, calm down, agent.” Cooper, backing up Faisal, put himself between Faisal and Ethan. “This man saved your life.”

“I don’t care!” Ethan shouted. “All I care about is figuring out what the fuck is going on and then getting back to Washington!”

“General Madigan ordered your deaths.”

Colonel Song’s voice shattered the rising tension crackling in the room. Ethan’s clawing anxiety scratched up his spine and settled in the marrow of his bones. “What?”

Even Cooper looked stunned, staring openmouthed at Colonel Song.

The colonel pulled his phone from his pocket. It was a flashy, clear-glass device, and he pressed a series of illuminated Chinese characters before holding the phone out horizontally.

General Madigan’s voice rose from the phone’s speaker.

“The pilots have killed the Raider team and buried the president’s lover. He’s not coming out alive. It would have been better if those ragheads had cut off his head quickly, before the president sent a rescue mission. But the damn president acted too fast, and we had to scramble. Everything is back on track. But listen. Those chopper pilots can’t make it back to base. You understand?”

Colonel Song clicked the recording off.

Silence. Silence so thick the sound of the curtains twitching in the wind scraped over Ethan’s eardrums. Silence so deep he heard the heavy depth of his heartbeat speeding up. Heard the shifting of sand over sand in the prince’s courtyard.