Page 79 of Enemy of My Enemy

Ethan cursed again and spun toward the refrigerator. He braced himself against the steel doors, hands over his head.

Scott glared at his back.

Jack exhaled slowly and crossed his arms.

“We have two problems,” Daniels said when no one spoke. “Who took these pictures and how did they get in the president’s duffel?” He looked up, his eyes finding Jack across the kitchen.

Ethan spun. “Yeah, who thefuckgot close enough to Jack to slide these into his bag?” He was back to bellowing at Scott, his face still purple. “Huh?”

“A hundred different people could have been close enough and you know that, Ethan. All of the agents. The crew of Air Force One. The soldiers guarding the plane while we were in Moscow.”

“Do we think this is someone on the inside?” Jack stepped forward and reached for Ethan. His lover was barely containing his rage.

Ethan turned to Jack, his dark eyes filled with anguish and rage.

“More traitors?” Daniels frowned. “You think people are still joining Madigan, even after everything he’s done?”

“Or people who have been with him all along. We still don’t know his reach.” Ethan leaned into Jack’s touch. “We don’t know who we can really trust.”

Scott shook his head.

“What do we do?” Jack held on to Ethan’s waist, his thumb hooked through the belt loop of his khakis. Ethan’s warmth leached into Jack, grounding him back to reality. Ethan was here. He wasn’t lost, and he wasn’t about to disintegrate into one of Jack’s nightmares, full of blood and sand, white noise and Jeff’s sneer. “What’s our reaction?”

Scott and Ethan shared a long look. As fast as they had been bellowing at each other, they were back on the same page. “Whoever took these wants us to be rattled. Wants us off our game.”

“So it’s a mindfuck.”

Ethan glared. “We still need to close ranks. Make sure everyone who is close in on the detail is someone we can trust, and I meanreallyfucking trust.” Ethan gripped Jack’s shoulder, holding him tight. “We can’t take any chances.”

“Every agent has been checked and vetted. I’m not sure it’s one of ours. How could they have gotten into President Puchkov’s private residence in the Kremlin without moving with me and the president?” Scott sighed. “We might have to look to the Russians for this one.”

Jack shook his head. “It still could be one of ours. It’s dangerous to pretend this couldn’t be done by one of our people.” How well he knew. Betrayal colored his every thought, his every worry, after Jeff. “Everything so far has been far worse than we could have imagined. Why not this too?”

No one met Jack’s gaze. Scott looked down as Daniels closed his eyes, and Ethan’s hand dropped to Jack’s hip.

“Russians took the photos, and one of our own slipped it into his duffel?” Daniels squinted at Ethan.

“Possible. We probably won’t be able to find the Russian now. But we need to turn everything over on Air Force One. Who on our team helped? Who is working for Madigan?” Ethan’s voice shook with rage.

“I didn’t have a big delegation. Mostly Secret Service. Press pool, the media guys. Pete and some of his guys. A few others…”

“We have to check every one of them. Every single one. It will take a while. And until then, we close ranks, move only the most trusted agents to the president.” Scott stared Ethan down. “And we have to have stronger containment at the White House.”

“We’re going to be caged in for a while,” Ethan said softly to Jack.

“And.” Scott closed his eyes. He reached for his weapon at his hip. He withdrew it, and clasping the barrel, turned and offered the grip to Ethan. “Be fucking smart,” he growled. Ethan held Scott’s hard stare as he grasped Scott’s weapon. Scott held on another moment and then let go, exhaling at the same time.

Ethan set the weapon down on the kitchen island.

Scott cursed. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Thank you. I fucking hate being helpless.”

“Yeah, you’re a real asshole when you get this way, too.” Scott glared at his friend.

“Could you get us some range time at Rowley? Private. No one else there. I want to teach Jack how to shoot. Pistols, rifles, everything. I want him prepared, just in case.”

Rowley was the James J. Rowley Training Center, where Secret Service recruits finalized their training before becoming Special Agents. Jack knew of it but had never been out there.