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  Candace nodded. “What do you suggest?”

  “Open communication.”

  “I agree.”

  “I thought you might,” Keller replied. “Be careful with Baru and Varga,” Keller advised.

  Candace nodded again. “Theresa?”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you know about Kaliningrad?”

  Theresa Keller’s eyes sparkled. Candace was far from a novice. It pleased her. “That’s a conversation for after dinner.” Theresa opened the door for Candace to walk through. She leaned into Candace’s ears. “And one that will require apfelwein.”

  “I look forward to that—the wine.”

  Theresa laughed. “As do I.”

  ***

  Jameson placed a kiss on Candace’s cheek. “Long day.”

  “Um.”

  “You like Chancellor Keller.”

  “I do.”

  “Do you trust her?” Jameson inquired.

  “Yes, but my eyes are open. But, yes. I believe Theresa and I have similar goals—and concerns.”

  “Your meeting ran long.”

  “A lot to discuss,” Candace said. “I don’t want to talk about that—not now.”

  “You don’t have to shut out the day the moment we close the door.”

  Candace smiled. “Not always. Tonight, I do.”

  “Tired.”

  “Relaxed.”

  “Really?”

  “I know it sounds crazy after the day we’ve had. I am. I can’t explain it to you.”

  “You don’t need to explain a thing. I suspect that whatever you and the good chancellor discussed had a hand in your current mood. That’s why I brought it up.”

  “You’re not wrong. Being a woman at the top—Jameson, it is different. The expectations are not the same as they are for a man. We are expected to show strength and emotion—without ever appearing overly emotional.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware.”

  “How am I supposed to remain stoic on a day like today? I don’t want to be stoic. Steady. Not stoic.”

  “Candace, no offense, you’re never stoic.”

  Candace laughed. “You might be surprised.”

  “I don’t think so. You are steady. Even when you think you are spiraling, no one around you sees that. They see your resolve.”

  “I wish that were true. I didn’t feel steady this morning. Theresa understands—not the situation from the morning.” Candace shook her head. “I doubt any of our partners here in Europe will grasp why we’ve been impotent to act decisively on gun violence.”

  Jameson nodded.

  “Say what you’re thinking,” Candace directed her wife. “Please.”

  “Just that we aren’t Europe. You’ve said it a million times. You could fit most European countries inside one of our states. It makes your job complicated.”

  “It does, but—”

  “But?”

  “It’s not an excuse. You’re right. There’s a consciousness here that we don’t have.”

  “What might that be?” Jameson inquired.

  “War. War in your neighborhood. Tanks. People ripped from their homes. It wasn’t that long ago, Jameson—not for people here. There are remnants of war everywhere. It leaves a mark. It changes values and it serves to remind people that stability can become chaos in the blink of an eye.”

  “We’ve had wars.”

  “Not the same way. Not since the Civil War, and the country was much smaller then. We shot cannons and fought hand to hand. We weren’t bombing cities from the sky or sinking ships from below. It’s different.”

  “Must have been some conversation.”

  “It was. We don’t honestly fear a foreign power taking over our country, Jameson. We live on the other side of the modern world. Who would do that? Canada?” Candace chuckled. “Here, where we are now, that possibility always exists. People have lived it. People are living it.”

  “And us?”

  Candace shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have that answer. There are benefits to our diversity and there are challenges. So many layers.”

  Jameson sensed Candace’s mood shifting. “Maybe I should have listened to you and closed the door on our day.”

  “No.” Candace smiled. “No. You were right. I needed to talk a little. All I can do is try to peel back the layers and replace the ones that are outdated and harmful with something new. That’s a lot harder than it sounds.”

  “Why do I think Chancellor Keller had something to say about that?”

  “She had a lot to say about everything,” Candace replied.

  “You have a lot in common.”

  “We do. We may not agree on everything. We understand the other’s point of view.”

  “Do you trust her?”

  “As much as I can afford to trust her—yes, I do.”

  “Helps, doesn’t it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Not feeling so alone in the world,” Jameson said.

  Candace stepped into Jameson’s arms. “It helps. What about you? How was your chat with Mr. Keller?”

  “Not quite as groundbreaking as yours.”

  “Boring?” Candace guessed.

  “Not boring—exactly.”

  Candace smirked. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was fine.”

  Candace cringed. “That bad, huh?”

  Jameson shrugged.

  “Is there something I can do to make up for your evening bust?” Candace flirted.

  Jameson’s eyes twinkled. She moved to a small desk, opened the drawer, and held up a Bible.

  Candace laughed raucously. She took the Bible from Jameson’s hands and tossed it onto the desk. “You are a lunatic.”

  “Not up for a study session?” Jameson teased. Candace kissed her soundly. “How do you say, ‘Oh, God,’ in German?” Jameson teased.

  Candace raised her brow. “Why? Will someone be calling for Him?”

  Jameson pushed Candace back onto the bed. “Repeatedly,” she said.

  Candace held on and let Jameson carry her away. “Oh, Gott,” she whispered.

  Jameson snickered. “That’s one.”

  ***

  “This can’t be good,” Claire muttered. She painted on a winning smile and stepped into Pytor Gregorovich’s corner office.

  “Well,” he began. “The sparrow has returned to her nest, has she?”

  “Pytor.”

  “I was surprised to hear you were in town.”

  Claire shrugged. She sprawled across a sofa that sat against the far wall and stretched. “Why is it surprising?”

  “I thought you’d flown away,” he commented. “After your father’s—”

  “My father was never my keeper. He liked to think so.”

  “And the spider?”

  “Alex? Alex never changes.”

  “I was given to understand that you two had struck a Holy alliance.”

  Claire snorted. “Nothing about what we do is holy.”

  “Indeed. Why the visit?”

  Claire shrugged again and crossed her legs. “Boredom.”

  Gregorovich grinned. “The FBI is not holding your interest, or is it the spider that bores you?”

  Claire met Gregorovivh’s curious gaze. He knew her reputation—everyone did. Everyone thought they knew Claire. The thought brought her both amusement and satisfaction. She had used her womanly attributes to elicit information. She would never deny that. The number of men—or women who landed in her bed remained fewer than most people in these circles believed. She could tease the truth and the darkest secrets from most men. She seldom needed to follow through with her overtures. Claire leaned forward slightly, allowing a hint of her cleavage to reveal itself. “I don’t play by Alex’s rules,” she said. “Alex likes rules.

  “And you like to break them.”

  “I like to redefine them,” Claire corrected him. “Rules are made for the weak, Pytor. Leaders make rules, change rules—create the game that others
willingly play.”

  “And that’s what led you here?”

  “Maybe,” she replied evenly. She reclined again on the sofa. “I’m curious. Why would ASA be interested in a postage stamp like Kaliningrad?”

  Gregorovich leaned back in his chair and considered Claire’s question. “Why would that interest you, Sparrow?”

  Claire chuckled. “Dmitri has this idea,” she began. “Not so much an idea as a scheme.”

  “Dimitri Kargen is dead.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You killed him.”

  “He had a gun.”

  Gregorovich remained stoic.

  “Should I offer my condolences?” Claire’s question dripped with sarcasm. “He’s been dead for years, Pytor.”

  “But you think this scheme is his legacy,” he guessed.

  “Oh, he wasn’t the mastermind. I think we both know that.”

  Gregorovich made no reply.

  “Or perhaps I overestimated you.”

  “What do you want, Claire?”

  “A piece of the pie—what else?”

  “I think you’ve spent too much time in the past.”

  Claire laughed.

  “That amuses you?”

  “Why wouldn’t it? There’s no past, Pytor. It’s all the same game. But if you don’t want my help, I am certain there are those who will.” Claire stood, smoothed out her skirt, and offered the man a smile. “It was nice seeing you.”

  “Wait,” he called to her. “What of Lynx?”

  “What about him?”

  “You’re close to him, no?”

  “He’s close to Alex, not to me.”

  “Ah, but you are close to his daughter.”

  Claire felt her stomach flip. She had expected that the doorway back inside the devil’s lair would require information about Cassidy’s father. Jim McCollum remained a sought after entity. He held more information about the alliances in the intelligence community than any living person. She did not relish the idea of exposing him. Careful, Pytor. She smiled. “What do you want to know?”

  “He spent more than twenty years underground.”

  “Literally,” Claire said.

  “But yet he remained in control.”

  “That’s not how he tells it.”

  “It’s how I have heard it told,” Gregorovich said.

  “Well, we are all told what someone wants us to hear.”

  “Mm. Project Lynx is dead then?”

  “Nothing is ever dead.”

  Gregorovich smiled. “Changed,” he offered. “There’s more than one way to control people’s minds.”

  Claire nodded. “As fascinating as this conversation is, I have places—”

  “Kargen understood the future, Claire. It would not be in tanks or missiles, or even dirty bombs.”

  Claire waited.

  “Those things are still effective. They are not the frontline of our efforts any longer.”

  “What does that mean to me?” Claire said.

  Gregorovich grinned. “Do you want to discover secrets, Claire or do you want to create them?”

  Claire arched her brow. I’m in. “What do you suggest?” she asked.

  “Sit down.”

  ***

  EIGHT DAYS LATER

  KIEV, UKRAINE

  “Be deliberate,” Don Milton advised Candace. “It’s been over twenty years since a sitting president stepped on Ukrainian soil.”

  “Then I would say that we are overdue.”

  “Candace, this is a risky visit and not just politically.”

  Candace took a deep breath and turned to her Chief of Staff.

  Milton held up a hand in surrender. “I know how you feel about this.”

  “Do you?”

  “I think so.”

  “We can’t forge ahead if we don’t open dialogue.”

  “This insistence you place on engaging Ukraine and Belarus is precarious. Their alliance with The Russian Federation—”

  “Is not the will of their people,” Candace said. “It’s the might of an oligarchy.”

  Milton sighed.

  “What’s our ultimate objective, Don?”

  He sighed.

  “If we want to peel away Russia’s influence, we have to engage.”

  “Did you discuss this with any of our allies?”

  “It came up,” Candace replied.

  “And what was their view?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “It varies,” she said flatly. “The European Union has taken a hard line with Ukraine. There is bitterness.”

  “And you think you can sweeten things?”

  “No.”

  “Then, I don’t understand.”

  “I have no idea what to expect. I do know that the ability to look into a person’s eyes gives me a deeper sense of who they are and what they might do. I can read briefs all day, every day. I can listen to your advice—to Joshua’s—to anyone’s. All of that has its place. None of it replaces sitting across from a person. It changes perspective. If I hope—if we hope to accomplish the things we’ve laid out, I need to engage before I disengage.” She began walking again.

  “What should I plan next? A visit to North Korea? How about Iraq?”

  Candace stopped cold. The last couple of weeks had bolstered her confidence. She had stepped into her role—accepted it and began to navigate it with the same finesse and candor people had come to expect. Finding a balance with Jameson had allowed Candace the outlet she required—the quiet confidence and embrace of the woman she loved without barriers. Sitting across from her peers—her counterparts in the world had further humanized her role. They were all people—just people placed in positions of monumental authority, forced to navigate realities that most of the world would imagine belonged in spy novels, epic dramas, and science fiction movies. Her eyes were open, so was her mind. Whatever the future might present President Candace Reid, she was determined to keep her eyes and her mind open. Her steely gaze made Don Milton gulp.

  “Interesting question,” she said. She stared at him for another moment. “It was you, I believe, and Gil whom continually implore me to schedule time in Saudi Arabia.”

  “The Saudi’s are an—”

  “An oppressive regime,” Candace cut him off. “One of the worst offenders of human rights on this planet,” she said.

  Milton groaned.

  “And a hot bed for burgeoning terrorists.”

  “You left out a longtime ally.” Candace’s caustic chuckle made Milton shudder.

  “The Saudi’s offer us hope and the Ukrainian government offers us—what? Certain peril?” Candace shook her head. “Engagement does not mean we condone any country’s actions or policies, Don. It does mean we recognize their place in our world—and their people.”

  “I know the bombing—”

  “This is not about the bombing. This is about people. The lines over here are thin, Don—very thin. Russia can encroach on our allies in any number of ways. Ukraine and Moldova are a pathway. Those countries are also a gateway for our EU partners. I don’t want to explain myself to you again.”

  Milton nodded. “Understood.”

  “See that it is.”

  ***

  “Alex,” Joshua Tate closed the door to his office. “Whom can I thank for the pleasure of your company?”

  Alex laughed. “Jesus, Tate, you’ve spent too much time in this building.”

  He laughed. “Probably so. Seriously, why the visit?”

  “I didn’t want to call.”

  “And you thought my office was the best place to show up unannounced?”

  “I was in town.”

  “New case?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a case.”

  “Still stonewalled at the FBI?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I could close this case today.”

  “But you’re dragging it out.”

  “Gives me a reason to visit,” Alex sa
id.

  “Sit down. Coffee?”

  “No thanks. Listen, I think you need to take a look at Kaliningrad with fresh eyes.”

  “That was savvy,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a seat behind his desk. “You and Claire dropping subtle differences in intelligence to the cabinet members.”

  “It was helpful.”

  “So, it worked?”

  “There are a few leaks.”

  “Where?”

  “Rodgers office has the most. Brandt seems to have a line to Gregorovich.”

  “Are you telling me the Deputy Secretary is in bed with the Russians?”

  “I don’t know what his objective is,” Alex admitted.

  “The intel is solid?”

  “Straight from Claire.”

  “Shit.”

  “It’s worse.”

  “I figured.”

  “They are moving armaments. Lots of them. Claire seems to think that’s a veil.”

  “For?”

  “Something more sinister.”

  “Such as?”

  “Information. Look, she’s in Poland right now. Moving to Grodno in the morning.”

  “Belarus? Why?”

  “Eleana had contacts there. Gregorovich wants her to meet with a contact in Suceava.”

  “Romania. Candace heads there this week. Coincidence?”

  “Doubtful.”

  Tate frowned. “Do you think Gregorovich is setting up Claire?”

  “No. Testing her, maybe.”

  “Feeding her false information.”

  “Partial information,” Alex said. “Claire is the closest they can get to what we know.”

  “You mean Project Lynx.”

  “And its tentacles. Listen, I don’t know what he’s planning. I do know Candace worried them.”

  “I agree with that.”

  “They can’t afford for her to make headway in Ukraine or Belarus. They’ve made major in-roads in Moldova and Romania. If she disrupts that—”

  “Candace is worried about the Baltics.”