Page 50 of Enemy of My Enemy
Russian President Sergey Puchkov delivered a scathing rebuke to the masterminds behind the release of thousands of classified American intelligence cables, which revealed details of intelligence collections and the personal identities of undercover intelligence operators, leading to the deaths of three Americans. The release of the cables is widely thought to be the work of former General Porter Madigan, traitor turned international terrorist who has evaded capture from the United States for almost half a year.
“The world cannot give in to the whims and machinations of a madman,” Puchkov said in a press briefing from Moscow. “This madman, Madman Madigan, thinks that he can make some kind of impact on the world with these games of his. No. He is mistaken. He means nothing. He’s insignificant, and soon, he will be gone. We remain committed, with our partners in the United States, to combating terrorism around the world, whether that is the Islamic Caliphate or this madman.”
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China Distances from United States in Wake of Cables’ Release
Following the release of classified intelligence online, Chinese officials rushed to distance themselves from the United States. Speaking from Beijing, Chinese President Bai Jiankai announced a moratorium on discussions with the United States regarding Taiwan’s status and said that they would be reviewing all further engagements with President Spiers and the US.
While the cables released did not discuss United States intelligence operations in China, President Bai stated that he was ordering a full review of the government, searching for any potential opportunities that “foreign governments may hope to exploit.”
China has grown increasingly wary as the United States and President Spiers continue to build a close friendship with the Russian Federation and President Sergey Puchkov. Relations between China and the Russian Federation have cooled considerably as Russia has pivoted to the West.
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Chapter 18
Taif, Saudi Arabia
Summer Palace of Prince Faisal
Adam stoodon the rooftop balcony of Faisal’s summer palace, gazing at the mountains rising in the distance. Fruit groves stretched away, unending lines of peaches and pomegranates growing sweet and lush. A dull buzz, the hum of insects, droned as the sun started its descent, a tawny orange glow scattering gold over the valley. His mind swam, the heady scents of Taif sliding against memories he could no longer push back, no longer repress.
Six months. It had been six months since Ethiopia, since he’d ran for the safety of Faisal’s arms again, and, in a fit of relief, regret, and desperate adrenaline, had kissed Faisal breathless and followed him into his palatial bedroom.
What had he thought? That all their problems would disappear just because he’d lived through the attack in Ethiopia? That, somehow, the illegality of their affair would magically vanish? That all of the struggles, everything against them, all of the day in, day out slog they had endured for two years would be different?
Of course it wouldn’t. He had known as soon as he’d woken up in Faisal’s arms, with his men sleeping below in the sunroom and Reichenbach recovering after surgery. It had been a mistake to kiss him again.
There was a reason he’d ended it with Faisal.
He’d be jailed. He’d be court-martialed. Stripped of his command and thrown from the Marine Corps. Investigated for years. And if the government found out what he and Faisal did together—
Once, he was awarded for superior intelligence operations in the Middle East. He had been like a seer, his commanders had said. Like a soothsayer. He could predict the future with uncanny accuracy.
He’d secretly been working hand in hand with Faisal.
At least, until Faisal’s uncle found out about them. Then Faisal was moved, brought back to the capital. He was ordered to stay away from predators trying to woo him into sin.
Nothing could stop their love, Adam had thought. Not even the Saudi royal family. They kept on, meeting in Dammam, Dubai, and Kuwait City, in Amman and Cairo. And here, at Faisal’s summer palace.
Nothing could stop their love, except for Adam himself.
Faisal was different then. He wore jeans and long-sleeve shirts and he moved with his people on the ground. When he was plucked back to Riyadh, his uncle, the Governor of Riyadh, put him in loose robes and the keffiyeh, but he and Adam had loved to peel the layers away, together.
Adam dropped his head, letting it hang between his shoulders. Peach and honey tickled his nose and then the endless bloom of roses, thick like a dream. He’d thought he was drunk, the first time they’d come to Taif, when the rose gardens had been in full bloom and the honey was in harvest, and Faisal smiled at him over candlelight and took his hand—
Enough. There’d never been a future for them. He should have ended their arrangement long ago, when he’d had the chance to walk away. He couldn’t ever be Faisal’s anything. Why had he spent years pretending he could?
He sensed Faisal before he heard him. He’d always been able to. That shiver to the air, the tang of spices, and a punch to his gut that he’d felt from the first night, the first moment he’d laid eyes on Faisal. He heard Faisal crossing the roof to his side. They were the same height, and Faisal stared at his profile as if he’d never seen him before, taking in the tanned lines and his stubble, and the ragged tear in his ear from Cook’s gunshot.
Adam had stripped down, taking off his filthy robes, his vest, and his uniform top. He was just in his black fatigue pants and a plain tank.
Faisal stroked his arm. “Habibi—”
“We can’t.” Adam intercepted Faisal’s hand and plucked it from his skin. He forced himself not to thread their fingers together. “You know we can’t.”
Faisal closed his eyes. “I thought, after Ethiopia—”
