Page 175 of Enemy of My Enemy

That shut Jack up. Scott grumbled under his breath.

“We go there. We can base there. Your subs can dock. We head north for the Arctic. The only way to the Arctic is through the Pacific now. Moroshkin has the North Sea, and the GIUK Gap. We cannot go that way. But here, we can regroup, gather our forces on the island, and then strike.”

“What’s out there now?” Jack had called for their impromptu meeting after Elizabeth’s call. He’d gotten Sergey, Sasha, and Scott together, and Ethan had insisted on joining. He bitched his way out of the cot, grumbled his way through a fresh bag of IV fluids and antibiotics, and shadowed Jack all the way down the hall, trying to hide his limp. He carried his IV bag over his shoulder, scowling.

When he saw Scott, he glowered and said nothing, standing apart from his best friend.

“Nothing. Empty land. Nothing is out there. No one goes, no one.” Sergey cut his hands through the air. “Even getting there is difficult. Kamchatka Peninsula,” he said, tracing the finger of land stretching south from the farthest reach of Russia, “is practically wild. Little infrastructure. One navy base, but no one has heard anything from it since the coup. There are bad roads, or,” he said, bobbing his head. “No roads. Only boats can go, but the weather is terrible.”

“This is sounding better and better,” Scott grumbled. “How do we get there?”

“We take this route.” Sergey traced a thin, spidery web of lines from their current position west of Kazakhstan, north across Siberia and into the Russian Far East. “With Moroshkin and Madigan invading Canada, and something happening in the Arctic, they will not be watching all of the roads. These are rural. Difficult to traverse with military vehicles.”

Difficult for them to traverse as well. Jack felt Ethan stiffen, standing just inches away from him. Ethan’s hand pressed over his own side, his fingers ghosting over Sergey’s fast stitches.

“Siberia has rejected Moroshkin’s government. The Far East has rejected him as well. The police forces there have blocked most roads. Set up armed checkpoints. We will be safe once we cross the borders.” He shrugged. “Safer.”

“Great. Safer.” Scott shook his head.

Sergey squabbled with Scott, the both of them bantering back and forth over the route to take from the Caucasus to the Far East.

Jack’s gaze turned to Sasha, standing silently off to the side, fingering a different portion of the map.

“Go talk to him,” Ethan murmured. “Something’s up. I need to sit down for a minute.” He eased himself down into one of the rickety metal chairs scattered in front of a leaning table.

Jack waited until he was down before he caught Sasha’s eye.

Sasha stole a quick glance toward Sergey. He motioned Jack out to the hallway. Jack followed.

“What’s going on, Sasha?” Jack said, folding his arms. “Is there something you know about this place? This island? Some extra information we don’t?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I would not keep information from Sergey.” He looked away, squinting down the corridor.

“Then what’s going on?”

“Near here, maybe forty miles, there is an air base. MiGs flew out of there. Your country bombed it, but it may be possible to find a jet still working. Get it ready for flight. Use a road for a runway.”

“You want to fly everyone to Simushir Island in a MiG?”

“No.” Sasha’s eyes were bright, gleaming as he turned back to Jack. “I want to overfly the Kara Sea in one. See what it is Madigan is doing.”

Holy shit. Jack whistled. Eyes-on intelligence, actually getting to within a few steps of Madigan’s plans. Get enough intel to get into position to finally end the man, this monster. He opened his mouth.

Sergey’s rough snarl beat him to it. He’d followed them silently into the hall, listening to Sasha’s half-formed idea. “Out of the question! Are youinsane?”

Sasha’s eyes flashed, Russian-red fury striking like a match. “It is good plan! We need to know what is happening! I am only qualified pilot who can make the flight.”

“You haven’t flown in months! And you were injured! How can you fly with no spleen?”

“You do not need a spleen to fly! I can do—”

“Nyet!” Storm clouds darkened Sergey’s hawkish face. “No, you cannot do this!”

Jack cut in. “Sergey, it’s a good plan—”

“Why do you say this, Jack? It is terrible plan! It is a suicide mission!” Sergey whirled on Jack. “I will not allow it!”

“We must have intel! It is the right thing to do!” Sasha snarled, hurt flickering through his eyes for a half moment. “You think I cannot do this,da? That I cannot fly this mission?”