Page 85 of Enemy of My Enemy

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Daniels waved away Ethan’s rising panic and hopped out of the car. “Get your butt out here.”

They bracketed him with maniacal grins from the SUV to the store. Daniels went in first, scoping the place out as nonchalantly as he could, and Scott waited outside.

Scott couldn’t stop smiling at him. “Really? You’re really going to do this?”

“Not if you keep it up.” Ethan glowered beneath his ball cap, arms crossed tight over his chest.

Daniels motioned them both in, and they wandered around the store like a pack of wide-eyed children. Scott pointed out the basics, stumbling as he tried to remember what he’d learned when he bought his engagement ring for his wife, all those years ago. Daniels told him to shut up and quit being wrong every other sentence.

When the only other shopper left, the owner, a short, older man, locked the front door and closed the blinds. Scott and Daniels moved in front of Ethan and reached for their weapons.

“I can recognize someone wishing for privacy.” The old man’s smile was soft. “How can I help you today?”

They looked at every ring, going over different metals and designs. Nothing felt right, felt perfect, until the old man brought out the custom designs and the options Ethan could put together.

Everything clicked into place when he picked out the right mix of metal and diamonds. His design spun on screen, winking at him, and even Scott and Daniels kept their smart comments quiet as he smiled, breathless. “That’s it.”

“And what is the president’s ring size?”

Scott and Daniels turned sharp glares to the old man, who kept smiling serenely at Ethan.

Jesus. He swallowed hard. The reminder of what he was doing, ofwhohe was thinking of asking, hit him like a bucket of ice. What the hell was he thinking? A year ago, he’d been a committed bachelor. And now he was thinking about asking thepresident of the United Statesto—

No. He was askingJack.

The old man’s patient smile helped him through the moment, and he grunted that Jack’s old wedding band, which he kept in an envelope in the bottom of his valet, fit on Ethan’s pinky. A few quick measurements and the jeweler said the rings would be ready in two weeks.

Ethan left the shop with a terrified smile, Scott’s arm around his shoulders, and Daniels whistling away.

* * *

Chapter 30

Taif, Saudi Arabia

Summer Palace of Prince Faisal

Adam metthe rest of his team at what had become their home away from home, Faisal’s palace. They could have set up desert tents and kept a low profile, operating under the radar without anyone’s knowledge. Eating MREs and shitting in a hole, brushing their teeth with bottled water, and not showering for two weeks at a time.

Faisal offered his palace, and Adam’s hollow, aching heart was a poor reason to subject his men to shitty field conditions. Plus, Faisal and he shared intelligence again, and even Reichenbach agreed it was easier for them to just remain on location with Faisal while they figured out their next move against Madigan.

His men hadn’t found much in Somalia. They’d waited too long. Had been too careful. By the time the bombs went off in Moscow, Madigan must have already been miles ahead of them.

When Adam’s team scoured the Somalian wilderness, all they found were dead rebels, destroyed villages, and the smoking remains of Madigan’s camped army. Scavengers had been picking through the burned earth, searching the rubble.

One starving Somali man caught scavenging had tried to run, but Adam’s team had caught him. He’d pissed himself when they tried to interrogate him, working through the digital translator Doc had on his tablet.

All they had managed to get was that Madigan had vanished. The old man, skeletally frail, had pointed to the sea.

Doc gave him his canteen and all of his rations and sent him on his way.

Adam sent Coleman and Wright to shower, shit, and relax when they got back, and he spent too many hours trying to recite for Faisal the crazed menagerie of pictures and maps and landmarks and people that had been tacked up on Noah’s walls. His palms itched as Faisal asked question after question, trying to put the puzzle together.

Faisal had always been the smarter one, had always been able to put things together better than Adam. He was white-knuckling it more often than not. Then, and especially now.

He escaped as soon as he could.