Situation Room Page 16
“Maybe that’s what they want her to worry about,” Alex said.
“You think I should deploy some assets around Kaliningrad.”
“Around—not inside. Around. And, maybe a pair of eyes and ears at Defense.”
“Do you think someone is trying to put Candace on the chopping block?”
“I don’t think it.”
Tate groaned. “Keep me posted.”
Alex stood to leave. “Joshua?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re down the rabbit hole again.”
He nodded.
“Let’s try to keep Candace from the same slide.”
He nodded again. “That won’t be easy. She wants to know everything.”
“She’ll be able to make a difference if she knows what’s required. Anything more and she could—”
“Be compromised. I know. We’ll talk.” He watched Alex leave and rubbed his eyes. “Shit.”
***
MARYINSKY PALACE
KIEV, UKRAINE
“It has been many years since we’ve enjoyed the company of an American President,” President Ponomarenko told Candace. “I was surprised when you accepted our invitation.”
“Kiev is a beautiful city,” Candace replied.
“Ah, yes. I forget. You have been here before.”
“Years ago,” she replied. “On behalf of President Merrow.”
“Unfortunate,” he commented. “His death.”
“It was. I must admit that I was equally surprised at your overture.”
Ponomarenko Smiled. “Because you are American? Because you are a woman? Or because you are a lesbian?” he asked lightly.
“Take your pick.”
“All three are realities in our world, no?”
“Indeed, they are.”
The Ukrainian President poured them each a glass of horilka. “Sweeter than you might imagine,” he said.
Candace sipped with a smile. “Honey.”
He nodded. “Is that not a saying? You catch more bees with honey?”
Candace smiled.
Ponomarenko swirled the liquid in his glass. “It’s not the old world,” he said. “Try as we might, people will connect to you—or to me.”
“You mean to our ideals.”
He sighed. “We play a different game, President Reid.”
“Candace,” she corrected him.
He chuckled. “And, you understand that game better than most give you credit for—I suspect.”
“What is it that Ukraine hopes to gain from America?”
“Ah. That depends. If you were to ask my son—well, I suspect he would answer differently.”
“And you? How would you answer?”
“Trade. Openness. A gateway.”
“Mm,” Candace hummed. “To enter The Union.”
“Perhaps.”
“That might prove difficult with the SVR running your cities,” Candace said flatly. To her surprise, Ponomarenko was unflinching.
“Indeed, that is so.”
“You have alternatives,” she said.
He sipped from his glass. “This part of the world is not the same as your country. War is always on the horizon.”
Candace nodded.
“War strips resources.”
“You are beholden to the Russian Federation to ensure safety?” she asked skeptically.
He shrugged. “What is the lesser of two evils? Sometimes, that is how we govern.”
Candace took a sip from her glass and set it on the table beside her. “There will always be evil,” she said. “Someone seeking to take more than their share at any cost. Getting into bed with the devil never kept anyone safe,” she told him. “The devil has no loyalty but to himself.” She offered the Ukrainian President a dry smile. “Safety is an illusion for all of us. Progress is the only way to ensure our civilization continues and thrives.”
“Ah, the American spirit.”
“I meant human civilization,” she said. “You are right. The lines that we cling to on maps are fading by the day. I suppose we each have to choose—”
“Where to draw them?”
“How to maneuver their erasure,” she corrected him.
Ponomarenko raised his glass to his lips. “People need lines, Candace,” he said. “More than they wish to believe.”
***
TWO DAYS LATER
GRODNO, BELARUS
Claire held her breath as she opened the door to her hotel room.
“Claire.”
“Eleana. I was surprised when you called.”
“Why? It is my contact.”
“I didn’t think with the baby you’d be traveling—not here.”
Eleana Baros smiled at her former lover and friend. “Belarus was my home for years.”
“I remember.” Claire directed Eleana to sit on a loveseat. “I wish you would’ve let me take this meeting.”
“Illya is a friend, Claire. He’s no threat to me.”
“But he might be to me?”
“No. But he would not be truthful with you,” Eleana said honestly.
“What did he say?”
“Kaliningrad is a gateway.”
“We know that.”
“More than as a port,” Eleana said. “He doesn’t know all the details. What the Russians have there they will protect any way that they can.”
“You’re saying the military buildup is defensive?”
“And a distraction from what lies underneath.”
“No idea what it is? A weapon?”
“Not the kind you are thinking,” Eleana said. “You know the Russians, Claire. They’ve been toying with technology since World War II.”
“That’s everyone, El.”
“Yes, but the Russians have had more success at stirring the pot. You and I both know that’s true.”
“So, what? They’re after the power grid? Banking?”
“I don’t know,” Eleana confessed. “All I do know is that they are looking to employ whatever it is soon—test it.”
“You know this sounds like that crazy Duga radio tower that spooked the world for decades.”
“It wreaked havoc, Claire. It pulled American and British focus away from the real threat. Russia made headway with ASA in the seventies. You know that. They made in-roads everywhere. While our intelligence obsessed over rockets and radio towers, the KGB was infiltrating our banks, our markets, and our media.”
Claire massaged her temples. Bombs could be dismantled. Military bases could be bombed. Weapons could be destroyed. The real game of espionage had always been financial. Money was power. Control the money, control the information, control the world. Control the world and you were guaranteed wealth, comfort, and power. “I need to find out.”
“Claire—”
“El, we have to know. Come on, you know I’m right. It can’t be computer codes or a hacking facility. They can build that anywhere. They don’t need to build it at all. What the hell could be stored there that is so earth-shattering?”
Eleana shook her head. “Whatever it is, it originated at Biocon.”
“The Romanians?”
“That’s all I know,” Eleana said.
“I need to call Alex.”
***
WASHINGTON DC.
Cooper pondered his homework silently. Pearl told him she would be back shortly in case he needed help. He loved his grandmother. He missed his mothers. Candace tried to pop in to see him every afternoon for a few minutes, and she usually helped him start his homework before wandering back to work. Jameson made a point to be home by four-thirty unless she was traveling. He sighed and tapped his pencil on the desk. He looked at the writing prompt and read it aloud slowly. “Why can’t I stay up late?”
“Because you’ll be too tired for school in the morning,” a voice replied.
Cooper spun in his chair. His eyes flew open.
Marianne smiled. “Hey, Coop.”
Cooper jumped up and ran full force into his sist
er.
“Wow. I missed you too.”
“Marianne!”
“That’s me,” she said.
He looked around her.
“Just me, I’m afraid,” she told him.
Cooper looked up at her curiously.
“Spencer and Maddie are home with Scott,” she explained. “I wanted to spend some time with my little brother.”
Cooper grinned and hugged her again. Marianne closed her eyes and rubbed his back. “Missing Mom?” she guessed. Cooper nodded against her. “Well, what if I help you with your homework and then you can show me where Mom hides the ice cream.”
Cooper stepped back and nodded. “Marianne?”
“Yes?”
“When do you go home?”
“I’m going back with you and Grandma,” she told him.
Cooper’s eyes were like saucers. He started counting how many days that would be.
“Three nights, Coop. We will go to New York a day early, on Thursday night. Mom and JD will be there on Friday. Okay? So, how about we finish your homework and then you can tell me what kind of trouble Mom and JD have been getting into.”
Cooper giggled. “Mommy burned our popcorn. Momma made more, though.”
Marianne laughed. Some things never change.
CHAPTER NINE
TWO DAYS LATER
BUCHAREST, ROMANIA
Jameson watched Candace closely. Candace had been quieter than usual while they sipped their morning coffee. Her silence didn’t concern Jameson as much as Jameson found it curious. Candace didn’t seem distraught nor did she seem angry. She was contemplative, lost to her private thoughts. Jameson sipped her coffee, wondering if her wife would be inclined to start a conversation.
Candace glanced over the top of her cup and arched her brow. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Funny, I was wondering what was on your mind. You’ve been quiet this morning.”
“Truth be told, I savor the quiet.”
“It has been a whirlwind.”
“That’s like calling a tsunami a ripple.”
Jameson laughed. “Fair. Last full day.”
“Mm.”
“What is it?” Jameson inquired.
“I wonder what President Barbu will have to say.”
“Why did you want the trip to end here? I heard Don commenting that it would have made more sense to make a final stop in Denmark or Finland.”
Candace rolled her eyes. “He would. Beautiful countries, peaceful, stellar relations—it’s a fairytale ending.”
“So? Why Romania?”
“Aside from the fact that it is stunning and interesting?”
“Yes.”
“Romania’s standing in the European Union is strained. They are at the helm of the EU. And, that has not been an easy transition. Many in the European Union feel Romania is backsliding, allowing corruption to seep into its political system and its policing. That’s concerning. We’ve seen similar moves in Poland and Hungary. It’s a volatile time politically in this part of the world. That creates opportunity.”
“For?”
“For anything,” Candace explained. “Turbulence signifies change, Jameson. It does not guarantee what that change will be.”
“Worried about Russia?”
“Russia has more influence than the American media thinks to cover. Over here, it is a point of constant debate and concern. Their agenda is the same—encroachment. Their tactics are often subtle. The question is where Barbu truly stands. Does he still see the European Union as viable?”
“Do you?”
Candace sighed. “It’s complicated,” she said. “I do. There are economic realities, resource scarcities, and cultural factors at play—just like at home. There is a growing call for the EU to be rebuilt—from the ground up. Whether that is with the intention of strengthening its mission, altering it, or undermining it—that’s the question.”
“And you think Barbu has an answer?”
“No. I think he has an agenda.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Candace laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
***
Cooper was full of stories, and that delighted Jameson. Candace had detected the downtrodden tone in his voice days earlier. She had set up a play date with Dana’s sons, a trip to the Air and Space Museum with Pearl, and a visit to his favorite ice cream shop with Jonah. All those surprises had eased his sadness for a while. Jameson also heard the tiredness in her son’s voice. He missed his parents. She missed Cooper. Candace missed Cooper. She was glad that they would be headed home in the morning.
Jameson couldn’t deny that she enjoyed having evenings alone with Candace. She’d expected the trip to be taxing and annoying. It had been exhausting some days. There were a few nights that she had crawled into bed, and the moment Candace was pressed against her, they had both fallen asleep. Candace had managed a surprise or two for Jameson on their trip. The first had been a quiet afternoon in Amsterdam followed by a private dinner. Jameson still wasn’t sure how Candace had pulled it off without giving The Secret Service, Don, Dana, or any number of her staff a coronary attack. She’d teased Candace endlessly about making a few unexpected shopping detours. Candace assured her that they would need no assistance when the time came to be alone. Jameson felt a rush of warmth run through her veins at the memory. She wasn’t kidding. Their European excursion turned out to be exactly what they both needed—time away and alone—if only for a short while each day. Candace still had calls to take, speeches to make, and dinners to attend. Jameson enjoyed watching Candace expertly navigate the pomp and circumstance. She continued to marvel at the way Candace commanded a room. But twelve days was long enough. Listening to Cooper, Jameson knew it was time to go home.
“Marianne and me played golf,” he said.
“Golf?” Jameson asked.
“Yep. She said Scott was teaching her.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Jeff made a hole and found a flag!”
Jameson sniggered. Agent Jeff Lamkin proved to be more than just the best protection for Cooper, he’d become Cooper’s friend. Cooper trusted the Secret Service agent completely, and so did Jameson. “Where did Jeff find a flag?”
“I dunno. He can hit the ball really far, Momma!”
“I’ll bet he can.”
“Yeah, but Marianne hit it the longest.”
“She did?”
“Why do you sound surprised?” Marianne’s voice came over the line.
“Cooper, are we on the speaker?”
“Yep!”
Jameson laughed. “Sounds like you two have been busy.”
“Yep. Momma?”
“Yes, Coop?”
“Am I gonna see you tomorrow?”
“In the evening,” Jameson said. “That’s the plan.”
“Can I talk to Mommy?”
“Aw, Coop, Mommy is in a meeting. I know she’ll call you when she has a minute.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Let me talk to your sister—off the speaker.”
“Okay. Bye, Momma.”
“I love you. See you tomorrow.”
“’Kay!”
“JD?”
“He’s wired,” Jameson observed.
“I might’ve let him have some root beer.”
“You are such a sucker,” Jameson said.
“Right. How are things there?”
“Good.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Why not? You apparently think I have no athletic ability.”
“Not true. And not the same thing,” Jameson pointed out.
“How about Mom?”
“She’s good.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You sound better,” Marianne said.
“I feel better. I think we needed this trip.”
“Did you even see each other?”
&nbs
p; Jameson snickered.
“Never mind.”
“Listen, thanks for making the trip to see Coop. It meant a lot to him, and to me.”
“You don’t need to thank me. It’s kind of selfish. I miss having him at home.”
“He misses you too—more than anyone else, I think—even Spence.”
“Kind of like you miss Spencer, huh?”
“Maybe. Listen, I need to run. Your mom has some shindig thing tonight.”
“Shindig? How much time do you spend with Pearl?”
“Funny. You sound like Shell.”
“Shell has a point.”
“Please, don’t remind me.”
Marianne laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Mom I said hello.”
“Will do. Marianne?”
“Yeah?”
“Go easy on the root beer?”
“Me or Coop?”
“Both.” Jameson put her phone in her pocket and turned to find Candace staring at her.
“Root beer?”
“Marianne.”
“Marianne is overdosing on root beer?”
“You have Chinese food, she has pop.”
“How is our daughter?”
“Busy with our son.”
Candace smiled. “Eager to get back home?”
“Who? Me or Marianne?”
“You, you lunatic.”
“Yes and no.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.” Jameson pulled Candace to her. “Thanks.”
“For?”
“Making time for me—for us.”
Candace cupped Jameson’s face in her hands and kissed her lovingly. “Thank you, Jameson.”
Jameson cleared her throat. “Not that I wouldn’t love to continue what you just started.”
Candace arched her brow.
“But don’t we have a dinner to get ready for?”
Candace groaned.
“Uh-oh. Not a good meeting today?”
“Just a meeting. And, yes, we have a dinner to attend.”
Jameson grinned.
“What?” Candace asked.
“What are you wearing?”
“Why? Do you want to help me get dressed?”
“Yes. But if I help, we’ll be ordering in.”
“I wish,” Candace said.
“How about if I promise you Chinese take-out tomorrow?”
“That is the hottest thing you’ve said to me all week,” Candace deadpanned.
Jameson’s laughter filled the room. “If anyone had a clue—”