Page 154 of Hush

“Neither did I.” Tom pushed Mike back and rolled on top of him, straddling Mike’s hips. Their naked bodies pressed together, warm and hard. “Iloveyou, Mike Lucciano.” Tom kissed him sweetly, and felt Mike smile. He pulled back, a half-inch. “Question.”

“Answer.” Mike grinned as he held Tom’s hips, stroked his back.

“Why did you say ‘shit’ the first time we kissed?”

Mike chuckled, and his flush deepened. He looked away, for a moment. “Because I knew that I wanted that to be my last first kiss. I knew it like… I knew I was gay, or that I wanted to serve my country. It was just… there. True.”

His heart melted at that, and he kissed Mike again, and then again, and then Mike’s arms were around him and the rest of his thoughts fled.

It was afternoon by the time they clambered out of bed, weak-legged and sated, but beaming. They dressed casually, ate, and headed out, hiking down to the creek and following different trails from the day before. Mike threaded their hands together and stopped to kiss Tom every half-mile. Etta Mae trotted along, darting off to check scent trails and then crashing through the brush and back to their sides.

Mike broached the topic they’d been avoiding since leaving DC. “What do you think isreallygoing on? With the trial?”

Tom sighed. “I’m not supposed to be thinking about it. I’m supposed to be impartial, and only judge the merits of the case.”

“Is that possible here? Between the Russians, the CIA, and, hell, even Ballard. What’s going on with him? How is he involved?”

“Do you think the CIA did it? Do you think Kris might be involved?”

It was Mike’s turn to sigh. “I’ve learned to never underestimate Kris. Or what he’s capable of.”

Tom squinted at Mike, but Mike didn’t elaborate. His mind was churning, his lawyer’s brain hunting for the logical sequence, the path through this conspiracy. “Ballard is getting his orders from main justice. The DOJ, and through them, the White House. For this totrulybe a government-sanctioned CIA hit, it would need to come from the top.”

“All the players who could have ordered it, and ordered the cover up, are right there.”

“I know.”

“Why? What would the motive be? Why risk this confrontation, upset the international order?”

“If President Vasiliev had been killed, there could have been a real chance for true regime change in Russia. If the CIA was willing to assassinate Vasiliev, then theyhadto have a plan for after.”

“Okay, so what about Kryukov? Why isn’t he screaming about being hired by the CIA? Why is he insisting he is innocent, and that the CIA wasn’t involved?”

Tom’s mind spun, possibilities darker than the one before rising in his mind. “I want to check the timeline for his arrest. Was he ever alone with Ballard? Was there an opportunity for Ballard, or anyone else, to make him an offer?”

“What, he denies the CIA involvement and they’ll… prosecute him for the death penalty anyway?”

“Something like that. He never mentions the CIA. Or, he goes even further, muddying the water by denying anything at all. He’s derailed his own defense. Renner looked defeated when he said he wanted to call Kryukov to the stand.”

“But he agrees to go down publicly for this?”

“You and I both know that special prisoners get lost. Or redirected. Remember Ali Mohamed, the U.S. Army Special Forces soldier and al-Qaeda double agent? He’s been ‘lost’ since he entered his guilty plea. His sentencing hearing is still TBD. It’s been nearly two decades. Where do you think hereallyis?”

“So Kryukov takes the bullet in public. Shields the CIA and the U.S. government. And then they spring him free after trial?”

“If the goal was to make his defense as incoherent as possible and strengthen the government’s somewhat-weak case against him, then it lines up.”

“But the Russians won’t accept Kryukov acting alone. They’re demanding the International Criminal Court look into the CIA and the attempted assassination.”

“Leaving Ballard—and the White House—stuck between a rock and a hard place. No matter what they do, Russia is going to explode.”

“Which takes me back to Kris. What’s he really doing over there?”

“Finishing the mission?”

“God…” Mike shook his head. “It really would have been better if Vasiliev were killed.”

Tom grimaced, but he had to agree.