Page 115 of Enemy of My Enemy

Moroshkin’s eyes narrowed. “Will you finally tell me what it is you’re planning? What you want with my sub and ships?”

“For now, we wait. Once we receive the signal, then it will be time to act.” Leaning back, Madigan threw both his arms out along former President Puchkov’s sofa. “Enjoy your victory, General,” he purred. “You have earned this.”

* * *

Captain Leslie Spiers Recovered Alive in Russia.

President Spiers And White House Keeping Quiet About Ethan Reichenbach

Stunning news emerged from the White House after President Spiers’s return from Russia following the coup that ousted his friend and ally, President Sergey Puchkov. Captain Leslie Spiers, President Spiers’s deceased wife, was found alive in Russia in the midst of the coup.

The White House hasn’t released any details about how or where she was recovered, only saying that she is in fair condition, suffering from the effects of neglect and suspected torture, and is recovering at the White House. Captain Leslie Spiers was reported killed in action sixteen years ago during the Iraq War.

There has been no statement so far on the status of the first gentleman, Ethan Reichenbach, but White House observers state that he did not accompany the president or Mrs. Spiers back to the White House following their return from Russia.

* * *

Chapter 40

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Prince Abdul insistedthat his nephew go to his seaside villa in Jeddah to rest and recuperate when he was allowed to leave the hospital, and that Adam had to accompany him.

Adam stood stiffly at Faisal’s bedside, trying to pour respect into the width of his stance, the spread of his shoulders, and the way he consciously unclenched his hands. That the crown prince would even allow him to speak with Faisal, much less begrudgingly allow them to be together, was almost too much.

Once, Prince Abdul’s bodyguards had burst in on them, and they had thrown Adam through the plate glass windows of Faisal’s Persian Gulf bedroom. He’d landed in a naked skid on the scorched sand outside of Dammam.

Sending them to Jeddah—the Kingdom’s loosest city, though that wasn’t saying much—meant so much more than his gruff words conveyed.

“You will assist him in his recovery and in his healing.” Prince Abdul fixed Adam with a hard glare. “You will be at his side for anything he desires. He will want for nothing. You will care for him as if he is your blood. As if you are family.”

Adam bowed his head. “Yes, Your Royal Highness. The prince is more dear to me than my family.”

A gruff hum was his only response.

On the far side of the room, Doc leaned against the wall, watching silently. He’d stayed clear of Adam as Adam camped in Faisal’s room. He’d sat through rounds of bone growth stimulation treatments, knitting his ribs together with the Saudi royals’ equipment.

They left in a convoy of armored SUVs that sped them to the airport and boarded Prince Abdul’s glittering executive jet. Two hours later, they touched down in Jeddah, where a fresh SUV was waiting for them. Adam, Faisal, and Doc piled into the back of the vehicle, two stony and silent bodyguards up front.

Silence reigned as Adam held Faisal close and Doc stared out the window. Eventually, they pulled into the private drive leading to Faisal’s beachfront villa, perched on stilts over a boulder-strewn section of the beach and extending over the gently-lapping Red Sea. Waves burbled beneath the stilts and under the wide deck wrapping around the house and stretching into the turquoise waters. For over a mile on either side of the villa, empty sand bled away, pristine.

When they entered, Doc whistled as he walked in a circle around the villa’s bright open layout, white walls and white furniture everywhere. He stared out the wall of two-story glass windows overlooking the water and the deck.

Adam walked slower with Faisal, holding his lover close and helping him through the villa to the master suite that stretched over the water, walls of windows refracting the waves into the bedroom. “There are more rooms upstairs. Go pick one out for yourself.”

“Been here before, then?”

Adam nodded and looked away.

He hovered over Faisal as his lover slid back into bed. Their trip had been long, and almost too much for his still-early recovery. Faisal plucked at one of his laptops while Adam grabbed a bottle of water and a cool washcloth and fluffed the pillows behind his lover’s back while Faisal watched him with a smile.

His smile disappeared, though, as he stared at his laptop. “Adam.” Spinning it around, he showed Adam the breaking news headline scrolling across the screen.Russian Military Coup Successful. General Moroshkin and Hardline Supporters in Control of Russian Government. President Puchkov’s Whereabouts Unknown.

Adam leaned in, scrolling through the report. “President Spiers was there when it happened,” he breathed. “Jesus…”

“He was targeted with Puchkov.”

Adam reached for his phone, a throwaway he’d asked one of the bodyguards to buy for him at the hospital. Should he call Reichenbach? The comms blackout was still in effect, but this was a coup, and with everything else—