Page 163 of Enemy of My Enemy

Sergey cursed in Russian, a long, unending string of growls. “I toasted you already!I shed tears for you!”

“We’ll drink again together, Sergey. Right now I need to beg you for your help.”

“My help? Jack, I am running an insurgency against the bastards in Moscow. I am living out of a rat hole and a convoy of trucks. I do not know how I am still alive, save for your country’s airstrikes. How can I possibly help you?”

“I need to find Ethan.” His voice wavered, and he dug his thumb into one of the bruises on his thigh. “I think he’s headed for Russia, overland from Saudi Arabia. I think—” He swallowed. “I think he’s trying to take out as many of Madigan’s men as he can, before—”

“He has no idea, does he?”

Jack closed his eyes. “I couldn’t find him in time,” he breathed. “Elizabeth announced early. She was pressured. Please. I need to find him. And I need to go to him.” His voice changed, turning from pleading to a harsh growl, his hatred come alive. “And after that, I need to kill Madigan, Sergey. I need to wipe him from the face of the planet.”

Sergeyhmmed. “If Ethan is smart, he will go through Kurdistan and then into the Caucasus. My people control the western mountains. The east, it has gone to the rebels, and they have declared for the Caliphate. Chechnya, Dagestan…” He sighed. “He should stay away from those areas if he knows what is good for him.”

“I don’t think he cares about that right now,” Jack whispered.

“If he comes to me, we will be able to save him, yes. We control our territory.”

“Your insurgency is going well, Sergey.”

“Airstrikes help,” he deadpanned. “I will put out the word to all my forces to search for him. One American as crazed as he is right now should be easy to find.”

“Thank you.” Jack exhaled, rubbing his eyes.

“Jack,” Sergey breathed. “Comejoinus. Come here. Comefightwith us. We are fighting for the same thing, you and I. Madigan’s death. Moroshkin’s death. We will find Ethan together. And then go on thehunt.” His voice shook with rage and fire.

Jack’s heart pounded in his chest.Yes, his soul screamed.Yes, go! This is what you need to do! But—

“How, Sergey? How do I get there?”

“Get to the Russian embassy in DC. The ambassador is my friend. He has been feeding me information from Moscow. I will call him. He will smuggle you to me. Talk to him. Only him!”

Put his life and his trust entirely in the hands of the Russians. A desperate plan, a desperate hope.

Not just any Russian. Sergey. His closest friend, other than Ethan.

It was madness. Utter insane madness.

“I’ll do it,” he breathed.

“Get to the embassy at midnight tonight. He will be ready.”

“Thank you, Sergey. I can’t—”

“We will drink when you get here, Jack. And we will talk then.” Sergey cut the line.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Ethan’s phone.Ethan, wherever you are, stay alive. I’m coming for you. Like you came for me. I’m coming for you.

What was it Ethan had said to him once?I will tear through the whole world to get to your side. Always.

“Ethan,” he whispered. “I’m with you all the way.”

All the way to disappearing off the grid. To the Russians. To the Caucasus and to the ends of the world. To the end of them, together.

Shouts rose from Scott’s kitchen, muffled faintly through the closed study doors. Guilt clawed at him. He was taking Scott from his family, from his home, his wife and daughter, and disappearing to a war zone on the other side of the world. But, no, Scott had volunteered. Had insisted on coming. Maybe he should put his foot down. Insist Scott stay behind. This was Jack’s mission, and he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Scott had too much to lose.

He padded out of the study, heading down the hall toward the kitchen. Soft sniffles stopped him at the foot of the dim stairs.

Looking up, he saw Liz squatting in the stairway, hunched over and picking at the sleeves of her plaid pullover. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, and she’d rubbed enough snot into her forearm to leave a wet spot.