Page 65 of State of Affairs (First Family 1)

“Got it. Please call Detective Cruz and Sergeant Gonzales and ask them to meet me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And let all the dispatchers know I’m to be called for any suspected homicide. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Sam ended the call and jogged to her car, eager to get to the scene as quickly as possible. In the back of her mind was the nagging concern that maybe she shouldn’t go, but she refused to think about that. If she gave in on the second day, she’d spend the next three years caving. No, like she had since the day she joined the police force fourteen years ago, Sam was going to do her job and hope for the best.

Nick fumed while he waited for his call with the Iranian president to resume after the president had been temporarily “called away.” His ire was directed at the Iranian president, at David Nelson for dying, at the parent who posted the photo of him at the birthday party and at Sam for going rogue at the worst possible time. His entire body was rigid with tension that made his muscles tight and his jaw ache from clenching.

“Did I really get put on hold?” Nick asked Terry and Teresa, both of whom sat across the table in the Situation Room. Earlier, Nick had been briefed on a wide range of military options available to rescue the secretary of State and his delegation. None of them were things he wanted to be thinking about on his second day in office—or ever, for that matter.

“It looks that way,” Terry said.

Nick hung up the phone. “This is kind of crazy, right? Who puts the president of the United States on hold?”

“Apparently, the president of Iran does,” the chairman of the Joint Chiefs said.

“Call him back,” Nick said. “Tell him he’s down to ten minutes if he wishes to avoid military action. Enough dicking around. He needs to let Ruskin and the others leave, or we’re going in after them.”

It took a few minutes, but they got President Rajavi back on the phone with the message that President Cappuano was running short on patience.

“My apologies for the interruption, Mr. President.” Rajavi spoke in perfect British English. Before their call, Nick had read briefing documents about the president that had included information about his tenure at Oxford as a graduate student. “One of my aides had additional information that I wanted to gather before we continued.”

“I want to know when my secretary of State will be permitted to leave Tehran. Any other information you might have is irrelevant.”

“I understand your concerns, Mr. President.”

“Do you? I’ve just been briefed by my military leaders on the staggering array of options available to the United States should you fail to immediately release Secretary Ruskin and his security detail.”

“I assure you that the secretary and his detail are being well cared for at a five-star hotel with deluxe accommodations.”

“I don’t care about where they’re staying! They came to meet with you in the hope that we might de-escalate the tensions between our two countries and convince you to cease the testing of your nuclear arsenal. Instead, you’ve only made things worse by detaining him without even telling us the purpose of the detention. And let me assure you, he’s there against his will despite your five-star accommodations. You have until midnight Eastern Time to release him and allow his plane to depart, or we’ll take action.”

“After our meetings, we invited the secretary to extend his stay so we could demonstrate that our hospitality is second to none. Your secretary was more than happy to avail himself of our resort and spa. I believe you’ll find the photographs we sent quite illuminating.”

Nick looked to Teresa, his brow raised.

She got busy on her laptop, turning it a minute later to show photographs of a smiling Ruskin in a swimsuit and sitting by a pool, drink in hand, surrounded by attractive, topless women.

Nick pressed the mute button. “What the hell am I seeing?”

The question was met with shocked silence.

He pressed the button to unmute the call. “I’d like to speak to the secretary.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s currently having a massage.”

Nick was quite certain his head was going to explode. “Get him out of the massage and put him on the phone. Now.”

“Please hold.”

“He put me on fucking hold again. What is this? A test to see if the new American president is trigger happy?”

The secretary of Defense stared at the images on the laptop, his mouth partially open in stunned disbelief. “I… I don’t know, sir.”

Nick waited impatiently for the secretary of State to come on the line, which took ten excruciating minutes.

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