Page 70 of Enemy of My Enemy

He leaned forward, his palms on Ethan’s chest. Ethan’s heart thudded against his touch. “Madigan would still have been after me. He still would have tried to take the government. Destroy the Middle East. Would he have succeeded if we hadn’t been together? Would you have fought back from the grave as ferociously as you did if we hadn’t taken a chance on each other?”

Jack watched Ethan’s eyes darken, and his open expression turn to a frown. “I know you may not think much of my professionalism, considering what happened between us, but I have always been one hundred percent dedicated to my job. It wouldn’t matter to me if we were together or not. I would have defended your life to the end of mine because you are the president. Not just because you are my lover.”

Shit. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant.” Groaning, Jack tipped forward. “I think the world of you, Ethan. I think you’re a true professional.”

Ethan snorted.

“I do. I’ve never doubted you. Not once. Not with anything.” He tried to find Ethan’s gaze, but Ethan’s eyes slid away. “Hey. I mean it. I’ve always admired you, Ethan. Your dedication. Your intelligence. Everything about you. I still do.”

Ethan’s gaze flicked back to Jack. He swallowed. “Sometimes,” he began, his voice rough. “I think I should have taken the moral high ground. Decided to walk away from you and what you were offering.”

Jack frowned.

“On Air Force One. You asked me if we could give this a try. I should have been a bigger man. Should have said no. Or, not yet. Not until you were out of office. I was worried that this would happen. That it would all come out and everything would fall apart. The worldneedsyou, and I’ve just complicated everything.”

“God, I’m glad you didn’t do that.” Jack’s fingers curled through Ethan’s chest hair, as if he could grip on to Ethan and never let him go. “You ground me. Seeing you every day and waking up in your arms is what gives me the strength to keep doing this. You are my rock, Ethan.” A tiny smile quirked up the corner of his lips. “I’d probably have run for the hills if it weren’t for you by my side.”

Ethan smiled, and one of his hands rose, cupping Jack’s cheek.

“Sometimes, like today, I still want to run away.” Jack’s voice was soft. “What if those fanatics had managed to sink one of our ships? Thousands of sailors and Marines killed. It’s… difficult for me to put our people in harm’s way.”

“I know.” Ethan’s other hand rose, and his thumbs stroked over Jack’s cheekbones. “I know it’s hard. Your wife—” He stopped and pressed his lips together.

“I think of Leslie, yes. But not just her. I think of you, too.” Jack peered down at Ethan, trying to pour all of the love he felt into how he gazed at Ethan. Could he ever find the right words, the right actions, to explain to Ethan how deeply he loved him, how much Ethan made him feel alive? “I think of you in Ethiopia,” Jack breathed. He grasped Ethan’s wrists, holding Ethan’s hands to his face.

Memories flew through his mind, like a film reel spinning out of control, colors and sounds and emotions bleeding out every which way. Ethan, a rifle to his forehead as he lay broken and bloody in the dirt road. Jack’s screams, seemingly soundless against the helicopter rotors and the shouts of the British soldiers. The cold, almost silent wardroom, and the crackling video showing Ethan, blood-covered and swaying on his knees, a machete to his throat. The white noise and the electric smear when the rockets had blown away Ethan’s team on the drone’s video feed.

Jeff at his side. Jeff holding him as he sobbed, wailing Ethan’s name to the bulkhead as he lost it all for the second time in his life.

Jeff forcing him to his knees and fitting a nuclear weapon to his chest.

“I’m here. I’m here, Jack.” Ethan’s thumbs stroked over Jack’s cheeks as his hands cupped his face. Slowly, Ethan pulled Jack down, until Jack was lying across Ethan’s chest, his ear pressed tightly to the warm skin over his heartbeat. “I’m here with you,” Ethan whispered.

“Don’t leave,” Jack breathed. “Please don’t ever leave.”I need you, Ethan. So much.

“Never.”

Ethan stroked Jack’s back for hours. Jack stayed curled up on top of Ethan, half-dressed, as he listened to the steady thrum of his heart beating until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

On the lastday of Sergey’s visit to the United States, a video was released online and a body was dumped in Moscow’s Red Square, beheaded.

On the video, a man kneeled against a white wall as tear tracks stained his cheeks. He was naked, and a rainbow flag had been carved on his chest, paint crudely thrown over the cut outlines. Behind him, a man dressed in black, from head to toe, shouted in Arabic at the camera. Only his eyes were visible.

In his hand, he held a knife.

The man’s name was Evgeni Konnikov. The man in black boasted of how he’d set up to meet with Evgeni through the most popular gay hookup app in the world. How he’d tricked him into walking into his own capture and torture. He shouted at length of the evils of homosexuality and how Russia would pay for her crimes. “Everything you hold dear will be taken from you, President Puchkov,” the masked man said. “Including your precious homosexuals. Including your American puppet president.”

Most news agencies censored what happened next, but the agonized screams could still be heard all the way around the world, including deep in the Situation Room, where Jack, Ethan, and Sergey watched in silent horror.

Jack grasped Ethan’s hand above the table and squeezed tight as Ethan closed his eyes and dropped his head, letting it hang between his shoulders. Their knuckles went white where they grasped each other.

Sergey sank into what had become his chair, both hands over his mouth, and muttered a prayer in Russian.

He had Ilya secure the body in the Kremlin within the hour and then personally attend to the autopsy while the CIA, NSA, and FBI analyzed the video recording. Jack and Sergey issued a joint statement, condemning the brutal murder.

When Jack’s voice choked off in the middle of his statement, Sergey grasped his shoulder until Jack was able to speak again.