Page 29 of Enemy of My Enemy

I do that to myself quite enough, thank you very much! Thoughts of you are VERY distracting. :) XOXO, see you tonight!

Ethan grinned and stared out the window of the SUV.

One of the perks of being a member of the first family was the immediate access to any of the governmental planes housed with the 89th Airlift Command at Andrews Air Force base. The planes were kept in continuous rotation, fueled and ready to go, with pilots on standby at all times.

“So what’s up with this sudden trip?” Daniels waited to ask until they were almost at Andrews, flicking a quick glance to Ethan in the rearview mirror. “If I can ask.”

If he could ask. A month ago, Ethan could have told Daniels anything. They had the same security clearance in the Secret Service and they were on the same team, doing the same mission. Now, even though they were still friends, a gulf of protocol and governmental procedure, and a whole new level of clearances, had opened between them.

But Daniels had leaped in front of a bullet for Ethan—and for Jack—and fought and bled for them both when the world was on the line. If he couldn’t trust Daniels, he couldn’t trust anyone.

“We’re forming a black strike team to take out Madigan. I’m going to run operational command.”

Daniels’s eyes blew wide, shock dropping his jaw open. “Dude…”

“I’m going to soften the orders to General Bell at SOCOM. We need one of his units attached to us.”

“Attached to the White House.”

“Well, the CIA on paper. But yeah.”

“Damn, man.” Daniels whistled as he showed his creds to the gate guard at Andrews and sped toward the airfield and the 89th’s hangars. “Though, that’s a better fit than managing the White House flowers.” Daniels winked in the rearview mirror.

Ethan snorted as they squealed to a stop at the main hangar. A colonel strode toward their SUV. Daniels hopped out, but Ethan beat him to the door, and Daniels glared at him over the rim of his sunglasses. “I’m supposed to get your door, Mr. First Gentleman.”

The colonel offered Ethan one of the massive C-40 heavy transports, opulent and almost regal, but Ethan shook his head and pointed instead to a much smaller and sleeker C-38.

“Not bringing your staff?” The gruff colonel eyeballed Ethan up and down, his heavy mustache twitching.

“No, sir.” Ethan tried to smile, the tight, polite stretch of lips he used with people who irritated him. “We’re keeping this under the radar. Small footprint. It’s just me.”

“And me. His Secret Service protection.”

The colonel grumbled but called for the C-38 to be brought out to the flight line and for the pilots to get ready for their briefing. Ethan filed his official request for a flight to MacDill and waited with Daniels, drinking coffee in the hangar’s lounge—reserved for executive members of the government—while the pilots were briefed on their last-minute trip.

Then they were in the air, call sign Executive One Foxtrot, soaring down from DC and heading for Florida. Daniels conked out when he saw Ethan burying himself in intel reports and maps of South America. By the time they were getting ready to land, Ethan had covered the windows around him with sticky notes and had the outline of an operation ready for Cooper to review.

They landed directly at MacDill, and a platoon of Air Force security services personnel met them in ten Humvees. Daniels made a point to hold the Humvee door for Ethan. Within minutes, they were parked outside the offices of the US Special Operations Command.

Ethan’s trip stalled there.

General Bell, despite receiving a call from Jack personally informing him of his orders and of Ethan’s imminent arrival, left Ethan and Daniels in his waiting room for twenty-one minutes.

Daniels rolled his neck, cracking his joints. “This is bullshit.”

Itwasbullshit. The general was making them wait. As Irwin had said, he wouldn’t be easy to work with. “I know.”

A few minutes later, the general’s secretary waved them in. “The general will see you now, Mr. First Gentleman.”

Finally. Daniels went first into the general’s office, making a show of checking the general’s domain over before letting Ethan enter.

The pissing competition had begun.

General Bell utterly ignored Daniels taking up his post along the wall. He plastered a fake smile on his face. “Mr. First Gentleman,” he said, through slightly clenched teeth. “It’s a privilege to have you here.”

Daniels’s chin lifted, just a fraction.

Bell gestured for Ethan to take a seat as he punched the intercom for his secretary. “I’ll be meeting with the first gentleman for about half an hour. Come get me if we go long.” He stared at Ethan. “I’m a busy man.”