Jack swallowed. “Any news on Sergey?”
“Nothing confirmed, Mr. President. Neither side is saying anything. Which means he’s dead and no one knows, he’s dead and no one is saying, or he is keeping quiet and hunkered down somewhere.”
Sergey… Please take care of yourself.“How is Europe responding?”
“Massive troop movements across NATO. Our allies are positioning their forces along all borders connected to Russia, and their air and naval forces are on high alert. Germany, France, Sweden, and the UK are flying joint air patrols over the continent and the North Sea. Sweden and the UK are patrolling the waters of the North and Baltic Seas.”
What had Leslie’s last troop movements been? She’d mobilized for an operation, a light strike force, and then—
What had it been like, being in the building as it blew, covered with debris, blood-strewn and listening to the screams of her fellow soldiers? The roar of gunfire?
Had she thought of him, in those last moments? And then, waking up years later, in Madigan’s clutches, a ghost to the world. Had she wondered why? Why her husband would abandon her, leave her behind and move on in the world? Why he hadn’t done something, anything, to help her?
“Mr. President?”
He coughed, blinking hard. Damn it, he had to focus. He turned to his right, to steady himself with Ethan’s presence. God, he needed—
Elizabeth stared back at him, her expression hard, but her eyes soft and worried.
“What are our options?” Jack turned away from Elizabeth. He pressed his palms flat to the table, watching the surface condense around his fingers. His soul was a kite in a hurricane, and he was hanging on by one, tiny thread.
“We’ve already put our forces in Europe on high alert, sir. From the UK to Turkey, our forces are ready to go. NATO is asking for our assistance in overflight operations. Turkey has quietly indicated they would allow us to use their country and airspace as a corridor to launch into Russia.”
“You want to go to war?”
“We either deal with this directly,now, or we’re looking at years of instability within Russia and a move back to the hardline repression and warmongering from the Putin years.”
“And, Mr. President,” Olivia Mori, Director Rees’s replacement in the CIA said, “we have the Madigan element to consider. General Madigan is a part of this coup. He’s a part of this new Russia, and that represents a grave threat to the United States.”
His fingers curled, his nails scratching the surface of the table. “Formergeneral.”
Silence, for a moment. “Sir, we have models for this type of incident. In the event of…”
General Bradford’s voice faded away, lost in the haze of Jack’s mind. He tried to focus, tried to listen to the words coming from Bradford’s mouth. Tried to focus on the map and the options of troop movements, insertions into Russia, different types of attacks.
There was an ache inside him, an emptiness. Memories flashed through his mind, like photos exploding into the air and falling to the floor. Leslie’s emaciated body, nearly weightless as he’d carried her to the Osprey. Her smile, wondrous, when she’d recognized him, lying on the pavement in Sochi. Her beaming smile from twenty years ago, laughing in the sunlight in her wedding dress. The shy grin she’d graced him with when he’d worked up the nerve to say hello to her, decades ago in college. His palms had been sweating and his heart racing, but that smile had been like the first ray of sunlight after a thunderstorm.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Ethan’s smile, soft and warm, stared back at him. Ethan, peeking out from where he’d buried his face in his pillow, embarrassed at Jack’s compliment. His laugh, so big and bold his head tipped back when he truly laughed out loud. The smile in his eyes, when just his gaze said it all. Waking up and seeing Ethan, already awake, watching Jack sleep with a gentle smile that made his whole world turn.
Two smiles, two lives. One heart, ripped in two. One soul, broken.
“Mr. President?”
Again, all eyes were on him. Waiting.
Damn it, he couldn’t do this. The whole world was waiting for him and he was lost between memories and the black holes in his heart.
“Elizabeth, Lawrence, can I see you outside?” he mumbled, sliding out of his chair and heading for the door.
In the hallway, he braced himself against the wall, leaning with his arms over his head as he tried to breathe. Elizabeth and Irwin bracketed him on either side.
“What do you recommend?” he asked softly. “What do we do?”
They shared a long look through him before Elizabeth spoke. “I think airstrikes are the way to go for now, Mr. President. We can launch from the Fifth and Sixth Fleets. Back up the resistance and hopefully give them room to grow. We can’t penetrate deep into Russia, but we can work in from the borders. Also, work with our NATO allies. Get birds in the air.”
Irwin nodded. “I have some ideas for getting intel from on the ground. We need to know more about what’s going on.”