Page 122 of Enemy Within

“Ethan—”

“Scott, you and Jack will stay here. Guard the snowmobiles. We might need to make a fast getaway, and we’ll need them ready.”

“Ethan!” Frustration cracked like a whip inside Jack. “We’re not splitting up. Not now!”

“This isn’t for you, Jack,” Ethan said softly. “You’re not a killer. You’re not a murderer.”

The next part of their plan was simple and direct. Breach the destroyer. Adam said it was undermanned. Empty, dark hallways, few crew, and the elements of Madigan’s army that were on board were lax in their security. Adam had escaped after all. They were hoping to sneak inside, use subterfuge, where the SEALs and their direct assault had failed.

Breach, and then take down the destroyer. They still had half of the C4 plastique explosive from Adam’s team, and what Sergey had scavenged at the first RusFuel station. Place the charges below the waterline, and then blow it all. The ship would sink, and locked in the ice, she’d break apart and crack in half. Her sinking would shatter the ice cap, too, and destroy K-27’s careful raising. With no anchor points holding the net beneath her belly, K-27 would, hopefully, plunge back into the dark sea.

In the confusion that followed, they’d take out everyone they could. Eliminate Kobayashi. Eliminate Cook, and Cook’s men, his fellow officers from South America.

Find Madigan. Put a bullet in his head.

Oh, Jack wanted to do it. He wanted to be the one to do it. Pull the trigger while looking Madigan right in the eyes. Part of him recognized that wasn’t the healthiest thought. But, after everything, who could blame him? Madigan had been at the center of each of the worst days of his life. Losing Leslie, almost losing the White House, and losing Ethan. Vengeance tasted sweet to his soul, so delicious he could practically taste it. He hungered for it.

Ethan was right, though. He’d fired in self-defense so far on the mission. He’d killed one fighter, the man trying to take out Ethan. That, he hadn’t processed yet. He’d hit pause on his emotions. In the moment, he’d been focused on saving Ethan, protecting him in every way. If that meant another man died, so be it.

He could do the same for Ethan withinVeduschiy. “Ethan—”

“No, Jack.”

Ethan didn’t ever use that tone with Jack, that final, definitive, commanding tone. But Jack knew that when Ethan did, his words were law. Jack felt his soul draw up short.

“I can’t do what I need to do in there if you’re with me. I’ll be too focused on you. Always keeping one eye on you. It could kill me, Jack. I need you to stay here. Guard our escape with Scott.” He tried to smile. “Do this for me.”

Jack closed his eyes and exhaled. “Don’t think I don’t see how you’re putting me and Scott out here. I know what you’re doing.”

“Guilty as charged.” Ethan kissed his forehead, letting his lips linger on Jack’s skin.

“I’m holding you to our honeymoon.” Panic lapped at his spine, a frantic need to hold on to Ethan, to not let him go. “An empty beach. You and me.”

“You and me.” Ethan breathed the words against Jack’s skin, kissing him again. He stepped back.

Behind Ethan, Jack spotted Sergey and Sasha standing close, heads together. Sergey kissed the back of Sasha’s hand, over and over, gazing into Sasha’s eyes. Sasha cupped his neck, fingers sliding through Sergey’s thin hair.

“We’ll check out that shantytown. Try and get more weapons. Stay out of sight.” Scott gnawed on his lip, watching them ready for the breach.

Ethan nodded. “Stay safe. Both of you. Watch for our signal.”

Adam carried the backpack that Ethan had smuggled under his stolen parka. He’d dumped everything except ammo and the explosives. All they’d need.

Russian destroyers had a cargo ramp on their stern. It was down, and had scraped and gouged the ice cap as theVeduschiybobbed on the sea. Now, the ramp was practically a part of the ice itself, a permanent fixture joining the ship to the bleak landscape.

Adam nodded, and then Sergey and Sasha grunted their response. Something heavy hung over the group, something that felt like goodbye. Jack couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t let go of Ethan.

Ethan stepped back. He turned away and motioned to the others. “Let’s go.”

50

Washington DC

“IDEMANDTO SEE the president, and I am not moving one inch until I do!”

Welby and General Bell, back at work again at the crack of dawn in the Roosevelt Room, shared a confused stare over the table.

The voice rose in the hallway again. “As the majority leader of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, I demand to speak with the president!”