Page 51 of Enemy Within

But it wouldn’t come out.

WherewasEthan? WherehadScott disappeared to? Why was Levi keeping the president behind closed doors at all times, never leaving her side? Why hadn’t a decision been made about President Spiers yet? Keep him on life support indefinitely, or let him go naturally? Where were his parents? The nation was on eggshells, waiting every day for news from the hospital. Why was everything so tight-lipped? Where was Ethan to do the Jackie Kennedy and help bind the nation together?

Damn it, theyneededEthan.

Wherewashe?

He held on to Pete’s elbow as he helped him stand. Pete swayed on his feet, one hand on his head, and moaned. “Fuck, I wish I could sleep.”

Welby squeezed Pete’s arm until Pete turned to him with a frown.

“I don’t know where Scott is,” he breathed. “And I don’t know what’s going on either.”

22

Sevoukuk, Alaska

“WHERE THEFUCKARE WE?” Doc’s backpack slid off his shoulder and hit the mud, splattering thick sludge over his boots and cargo pants.

The rest of the team stayed quiet, surveying their dismal surroundings.

“There are animal skins hanging from that… what the fuck is that? A jungle gym built by a drunk? Out of wooden poles?”

Doc was on a roll. Adam sighed. He felt Faisal at his side, the warmth of his body. He tried not to lean against him.

“Those are fucking bones!” Doc shouted. “Jesus Christ! What the hell kind of bones are those? Dinosaur bones? Loch Ness monster bones?”

“Fuckin’ alien bones, Doc,” Ruiz said, shoving his shoulder into Doc’s and grinning.

Adam sent Ruiz a glare, and Coleman clapped his hand on the younger Marine’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough for Ruiz to wince. Doc was enough of one mouth for the entire team.

“Whalebones,” Adam finally said. “This is an Inuit village. They’re subsistence hunters and fishers. They are still allowed to hunt whales as part of their tribal activities. They use the bones,” he said, gesturing to what the team had thought were wooden beams, the outlines of structures that looked like homes, jungle gyms, and buildings, “to build. And yes, skins as well.”

Doc glared at him. “Do they have a banjo or four?”

Adam fixed Doc with a hard stare.

Doc’s mouth clicked shut.

“Wait here,” Adam growled. “I’m going to get us some wheels.”

“I will come with you.” Faisal fell into step beside him.

A heavy silence, pregnant with a thousand unsaid words, choked-back chuckles, and quick, darting glances, filled the air behind Adam as he and Faisal walked away. Something heavy hit the mud, and Park cursed. Coleman’s bark echoed behind them, bellowing at one of the team. “Shut your mouth!”

Adam breathed in and out. His heart hammered, racing so fast it ached. Was enough blood going to his head? He was dizzy, almost lightheaded.

“It will be all right,” Faisal spoke softly. “It will, Adam.”

“I wish I had your faith,” Adam whispered. “What have I done?”

Faisal stayed quiet.

They trudged up the muddy road toward the center of town. Behind him, the propeller plane that had taken them all from frozen Nome, Alaska, turned around on Sevoukuk’s single runway and started taxiing for takeoff. Sevoukuk was a forgotten spit of land on a forgotten island, far out in the reaches of the Bering Sea. Once part of the Navy in World War II, and then connected to the Cold War’s efforts, the island had long been abandoned. The Inuit, accustomed to living on the island on their own, had taken to their newfound freedom with glee.

Sevoukuk was a mix of claptrap trailers and whalebone huts, hanging animal skins drying, and neon Goodwill donations. Snow clung to the sides of the mud roads, and heavy black waves broke along the rocky sea wall, sending below-freezing water spraying into their faces. Only a few hundred people inhabited the village.

Eyeballs tracked their movement, their long walk from the airfield to the town. Men sat in chairs around a trashcan fire, smoking. Their faces were wide and tanned, lined from exposure to the sun and the harsh winters above the Arctic Circle. Most had gray hair, though Adam guessed they were all in their forties. A harsh life, taken out on the body.