Page 32 of Power Surge

And I know the reason why.

“Based on my meetings with the various leaders over the previous few weeks, I suspect Russia,” Todd chirps in.

I shoot him a condemning expression, nearly mirroring the scowl the general now wears, which seems to agree with my silent “shut the fuck up” hint to my idiot secretary of state.

Folding my arms across my chest, I lean a hip against the edge of the desk, looking down my nose at the man. What the hell is Todd thinking, tossing out Russia? He's up to something. He requested a meeting with Vlad before the New Year, but I never heard if it actually happened.

I shove the nagging feeling away, needing to focus on the issue at hand.

“Highly unlikely that it’s Russia,” the general says. “We suspect Yemen or Syria based on the initial intel. I suggest sending in a small force to take out the groups targeting our ally and secure the area to ensure there aren’t any additional flare-ups. We can gain information while on the ground. In and out in under twelve months.”

“Twelve months?” I grit out. “That's your version of in and out?”

“If we do not secure the area, more militants will come in and do the exact same thing. This is a part of the world that is in constant turmoil. The fact that they've been in relative peace for the past few years is unheard of.”

No doubt that's why whoever was manipulating Kyle wanted all this to happen.

“What are our other options?” I ask, masking the hopeful tilt of my voice with a fake sigh.

The room swells with a pregnant pause. The general exchanges a sharp look with Blake. “Minimum casualties on both sides and we help an ally. This is the option.”

“You're telling me with all the intelligence we have, everything we know about this situation, that military force is the only course of action?” I scoff and move around the desk to stand behind it once again. Fingertips pressed to the hard surface, I lean forward, putting most of my weight on the desk. “No.”

The room erupts with disagreeing shouts. I lift a hand, urging them to let me finish.

“First of all, this is not our fight.” Well, technically it is, but as far as they know, it’s not. They have no idea we might be the ones who actually funded this fight. Hell, I didn't even know until I received the evidence Vlad furnished. I still don't know the major players; even Vlad wasn't able to obtain those details, which says a lot. The file was crystal clear on one aspect of the scheme. The drilling, rising gas prices, and funneling the profits to offshore accounts was a drop in the bucket to the overall plan. All that money was then channeled out to various for-hire militant groups to force that part of the world into war.

Dozens of times, I’ve listed the pros and cons of informing my military advisors of what was put into action by Kyle, but it always comes down to the same answer: I can't. If the information gets out, if our allies knew what American dollars had funded, we'd be friendless in less than a week and the target of their ire, followed by attacks.

No, this stays with those few who know the truth: me, Sam, Trey, and T. Plus Shawn, I guess, who’s been creepily absent since I announced Sam as VP. Every day I don’t hear from him, the little voice in the back of my mind warns me there’s a reason and I should prepare for the worst.

I shift my focus to the small American flag standing proudly at the corner of the desk. I can't justify leading our men and women in uniform into this fight, putting their lives on the line, for a lie. Those countries think their neighboring enemies are responsible for the attacks and are ready to respond with more might and harshness This has to end soon before things get out of hand, but not with military action. Not yet.

“Second, we don't have enough solid intel to justify deploying several thousand troops.” I shake my head and shove off the desk. Walking around to the front, I lean back against the edge and cross my arms. Hopefully this pose looks intimidating. “No, we will go about this in a different way.”

“Madam President, I disagree with—”

My sharp look cuts Blake off.

“I understand most of you are not a fan of my decision. I'm well aware of that.” A sharp knock at the side door triggers me to pause. Sam stalks through half a second later, quickly shutting the door behind him. A swift nod in greeting and he relaxes back along the wall, those green eyes taking in the grumbling group crowding the Oval Office. “No military action. Todd, get the king on the phone. He and I can talk about next steps and how we can help without sending troops.”

Todd’s already pale face loses more color. “I'm not sure that's a great idea. He's mentioned a few times in the past that I'm not his favorite person in this office. Maybe the vice—”

“Man the fuck up,” I snap. How has Sam not killed him over the past few weeks as they traveled together? “Get over the king not liking you and get him on the damn phone. We will figure this out. Today. I need to know who he suspects ordered the attacks, and then we go from there. Next I want to have a conversation with whoever the hell is running Yemen, Syria, Oman, and Iraq these days. We figure out what the actual fuck is going on over there today, gentlemen.”

Done with the conversation, I flick my wrist toward the door, waving them off, and push off the desk.

Disgruntled grumbles resound through the room as the men exit. Only once everyone except Sam is gone do I allow myself to sink into the massive desk chair.

“I don't know which is worse,” I say, my eyes closed as I massage both temples. “My military advisors knowing what I know or continuing to keep them in the dark, making them assume I'm an idiot for not heeding their sage advice.”

“Both.” Sam's deep gravelly voice carries though the now still office. “But you know as well as I do that theycan'tknow. You and I agreed on that weeks ago, Randi. Even with Birmingham removed from this office, wecannotrisk the repercussions if the countries who have sustained casualties and damage find out the United States are the ones funding—”

“Funded, not funding,” I correct. “I shut all that shit down and cut ties with everyone we could tie the scandal to the night I was sworn in.”

“Fine,” he acknowledges. The wall groans as he shoves off to move toward the center of the room. “But funding or funded, it’s all the same. The money these militant groups are using to buy guns, supplies, and intel came fromus. If this attack on Saudi Arabia is the militia group funded by whoever constructed the shit Birmingham dragged us into—which, like you, I suspect is true—this is their first major attack. I'll be honest with you, Randi, I don't think it's the last. If we don’t do something about this now, things will get worse fast.”

“I agree, which is why I want to bring the higher-ups in the CIA into the fold.” Peeking my eyes open, I slide my gaze to the closed door he came through. It's wishful thinking that Trey is just on the other side. Not after the morning we had, not with his avoidance the past few weeks. I'm desperate to know what's bothering him, but being locked in this gilded cage has me limited on how to get to him. “We have to identify and stop the ones responsible now. With Kyle gone, we need to get the names another way, which will take time. While I'm working to keep the peace over there, the CIA can be behind the scenes, working on identifying who's behind all this. Once we figure that out, we take them out and we're in the clear.”

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