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  “Payback, Brackett,” Alex warned.

  Zap! “Gotcha, Mom!” Mackenzie declared.

  “Where is Hawk when I need her?” Alex grumbled.

  Claire laughed and ducked around a corner. It was unusual for Alex to join an outing with Claire and Mackenzie. An unseasonably warm March day led Rose and Helen to take the twins and Fallon to the zoo. Hawk had called late on Thursday to say that she was expected in Washington early Friday and anticipated a working weekend. And, Cassidy had opted to accept Candace’s offer to spend a weekend at the White House. That left Alex with nothing to do. Laser tag seemed the perfect remedy to weekend boredom. Claire was delighted that Mackenzie had chosen a side—Claire’s side. She caught Mackenzie out of the corner of her eye and motioned to the right.

  Mackenzie nodded. She moved behind a tall cylinder shaped beam and waited for Claire’s direction. Saturday was turning out to be the best day of her week. She had her mother and Claire all to herself; no arguing or crying siblings to contend with today. She saw her mother move left before she could signal Claire. Zap! Claire was hit.

  “Aww, man!” Mackenzie complained.

  “Paybacks!” Alex yelled as she ran through a short corridor.

  “It ain’t over til the old lady dies, and you’re the oldest!” Claire yelled back.

  Mackenzie laughed so hard she nearly fell over.

  “No time for laughing,” Claire grabbed Mackenzie’s arm. “This is war!”

  ***

  “So? How was your day?” Cassidy inquired.

  “Brutal.”

  “Brutal?”

  “Yeah—brutal. Kenz and Claire beat me at laser tag. I had to buy pizza, soda, and I have to endure that crazy movie where the people end up in some video game—again.”

  “Jumanji.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Cassidy laughed. “It does sound awful.”

  “What about you? How are things at the White House?”

  “Candace got pulled away earlier. I spent some time with Pearl.”

  “How is the president?”

  “Stressed. Overwhelmed, but dealing with it.”

  “I don’t know why anyone would want that job,” Alex commented.

  “I think a lot of people might say that about what you do.”

  “What I do is less stressful. By far.”

  Cassidy said nothing.

  “What? It is. I don’t have the entire world either expecting me to save them or hating me because I dare to try to save them at all,” Alex explained.

  “No. I suppose that’s true.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “Enough,” Cassidy replied. “Not all the details, but enough. Have you spoken to my father yet?”

  “No. Come to think of it, that might be a good way to get out of this Jumbotangi thing.”

  “Jumanji.”

  “Whatever.”

  Cassidy giggled. “You’d rather traverse the past with my father than watch a movie with Claire and the kids?”

  “Yes. And, it’s not the kids. Your mom has the twins and Fallon at her house. I’ll bet your dad would jump at the chance for a beer. That’s probably the one way I can convince Claire I need to vacate.”

  “You’re not afraid to leave Claire and Kenzie alone?”

  “I probably should be. They’ll probably spend the time looking for another way to humiliate me.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “Hey, don’t joke. They were brutal, Cass.”

  Cassidy smiled as she listened to Alex. Alex made light of the day, but Cassidy could tell her feelings were bruised. Mackenzie resembled Alex in more ways than Cassidy cared to count some days. She was insatiably curious, stubborn, craved adventure, was fearless to her detriment, intelligent, and articulate beyond her years. Sometimes, all the likenesses that Mackenzie and Alex shared could set them at odds. Claire was similar. Claire was not Mackenzie’s parent. She was the fun aunt who stayed a night or two and indulged Kenzie’s whims. Alex felt slighted—just a bit.

  “I told you a long time ago, sometimes you have to be the butler and not the Batman.”

  “I used to be her Batman.”

  “You are,” Cassidy said. “You’re also her mother. That means you place more limits on her than Claire.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Claire. She protests, but I swear, she’d happily spend days with Kenzie.”

  “Mm.”

  “That doesn’t surprise you?”

  “No. Alex, Kenz has only ever known one Claire. She didn’t know the Claire we lived with in our lives for years. Claire doesn’t have to worry about those memories where Kenzie is concerned. She gets a clean slate. It’s good for them both.”

  “I know.”

  “So, talk to my dad.”

  “Yeah. Listen, Cass, I hope you know—”

  “You have to do this, Alex. I don’t know if I am prepared to revisit the past. After talking with Candace, I know it’s inevitable.”

  “Assure President Reid that I am better at discovering the truth than I am at laser tag—just in case Claire sends out a memo or something.”

  “I’ll see that she gets the message.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Don’t get into trouble there,” Alex said.

  “Me? In this fortress? I think I’m the one who should worry. I might come home and find you’ve all been willingly zapped into the television.”

  “Not me.”

  Cassidy laughed. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, Cass. Night.”

  “Goodnight, Love.”

  ***

  Jim McCollum leaned over the billiard table and considered his next move. “So,” he began. “Should I thank Claire and Mackenzie for our time together, or is it the president I should call?”

  “Both.”

  McCollum took his shot, missing the eight-ball. He stood to his full height and faced his daughter-in-law. “Overdue.”

  “What’s that?” Alex asked.

  “Your questions. Why wait until now, Alexis?”

  “You know that answer.”

  “Cassidy.”

  “Cassidy doesn’t want to stir up the past. She’s accepted your absence, and she’s welcomed you back into her life. She doesn’t want to know—”

  “What you need to know?”

  “It’s not about me,” Alex replied.

  McCollum stowed his cue in its home, pulled out a bar stool, and took a seat. “Isn’t it? Why do you think the past will bring you any peace?”

  “I don’t. I think it might bring me clarity.”

  “Clarity doesn’t prevent disappointment,” he offered. “But we’re here. What’s on your mind?”

  “Candace called us to DC this week.”

  “I heard.”

  “The Russians have been withholding resources along the borders. I can’t pin any logic to it, not strategically. It seems random. Starvation, a tainted water supply, deliberate—”

  “Genocide?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps? There’s only one reason to keep basic resources from people—to diminish the population. It asserts power, and it eases a burden on the state. That is the only reason, Alexis.”

  Alex’s stomach roiled with disgust.

  “What you describe is an age-old tale—part of a playbook that has existed for millennia. There is no more effective way to exert control, than to strip those below of any chance to resist,” he continued.

  “Why now?”

  “You think this is new?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  McCollum picked up his beer and savored a long pull.

  “I heard what you said. I can’t understand what Kapralov gains from this,” Alex said. “These are small villages. For Christ’s sake, Jim, most of them don’t have names—they’re numbers on a map we created.”

  “You’re
looking for an explanation that will satisfy some need or some goal.” He sipped his beer. “He does it because he can do it.”

  “That’s it?”

  “If you are asking my assessment—yes; that’s it. Power, Alexis. If you do not exert it, why have it at all? That’s what governs the action—that is the ideology behind all the ills in the world. I will assume that someone brought this to the president’s attention.”

  “Among other things.”

  “I’m sure. And, you think that I can explain these things to you?”

  “I think you resided in Russia for over twenty years.”

  “Underground,” McCollum reminded her.

  “But not without help,” Alex replied.

  “True.”

  “You have connections.”

  “I had connections.”

  Alex held his gaze.

  “What do you hope to learn?”

  “The truth?”

  “About what your friend, Candace, might confront or about your father?”

  “Both.”

  “There are no answers that will satisfy you—not you, not Claire, and not Cassidy. You aren’t responsible for our deeds. Combing through our sins will not bring you peace.”

  “It might help prevent a catastrophe now.”

  McCollum laughed. “What do you think? That Russia wants to take over the world?”

  “Don’t they?”

  “Alex, there is no Russia versus America. There’s no America versus the world, or Russia threatens democracy.”

  “You don’t think Russia is a threat to democracy?”

  “The only threat to any government or society are those governing, and those too blind to see what’s staring them in the eye. Governments do not fall to the forces thrust upon them. They crumble from within. The sooner you face the truth; the fewer mistakes you will make.”

  “So, you think someone in Candace’s inner circle is working against her.”

  “Someone is always on a mission to undermine or compromise every leader. It isn’t a question of if; it’s a question of who.”

  “And, the Collaborative?”

  “It will always exist in some form by some name.”

  “To what end? Empty power?”

  “For many, power fills their well. Do you know how many presidents and prime ministers have spoken of peace and prosperity?”

  Alex listened without comment.

  “Hundreds over my lifetime. All the while, they sow the seeds of dissension, divisiveness, and war. The wealthiest men have never prospered in peace. Eventually, they require some kind of war. The greatest threat to the status quo is the leader who believes a call to peace will promote prosperity.”

  “That’s cynical—even for you. You don’t believe we can achieve peace?”

  “Kapralov is starving his people. You don’t have to go that far, Alexis. You ran Carecom. How many pharmaceutical companies are lining their pockets from unnecessary suffering? It’s all the same thing. You know the ties that bind this world. You still think there is some hidden secret that will justify it all. There isn’t. There is greed. There is money. There is even ideology. There are men—like me and your father, who believe they are called to a higher purpose. We learned too late that we were merely assets who became liabilities. There is no justification. There is a reason. Power is a drug. To hold a life in your hands, to put the world on its knees; it’s intoxicating. That is your answer.”

  “What about Candace? She doesn’t subscribe to this theory of yours.”

  “No. She’s unique,” McCollum admitted. “Like Cassie, and you—like your brother. You crave redemption. You want so desperately to believe that you can change the world. Perhaps you will. That, too, comes at a cost.”

  “So, what? We don’t try? We’re destined to live this world you created forever?”

  “I didn’t say that. You have power. You can’t be afraid to claim it, Alexis. Neither can your friend, Candace. People will look to compromise her—discredit her—to weaken her. It’s not about what she does, Alexis. It is about how she does it—how you navigate this world you’ve chosen. You cannot blink. If what you desire is something different, that must become your place of power. You can never doubt your actions. Never. Not even when they break your soul in two. I can offer insight about governments, about personnel, and walk you through the history that you cannot find in textbooks—if that is what you wish. I will only do so if you can stand here and promise me that you will never second-guess yourself. You cannot afford that luxury where you are traveling. Cassidy does not deserve to lose another person she loves to weakness.”

  Alex swallowed hard. “And, Candace?”

  “If you want to help President Reid, look to the past you are hellbent on reliving. We’ve lost two presidents to an assassin’s bullet in the last century. Neither were targeted by an outside entity. They were cut down by the men they called brothers. Within, Alex. Always start within the circle. Work your way out. That’s the way to cast a net.”

  What does that say about you, Jim?

  WASHINGTON DC

  Candace listened to her advisers as they took turns imparting information, assessments, and suggestions regarding various issues their departments currently confronted. She seldom made any comment until a person finished his or her accounting. She preferred to digest all of the information before seeking clarification on any singular point. Jennifer Gorham was wrapping up her overview of concerns and initiatives at The Department of State. On the list were military movements in and around Kaliningrad, Russia. It seemed Alex had begun planting her seeds.

  “Gil and I have discussed the intelligence from our assets in the area,” Secretary Gorham explained. “There are some discrepancies, but the information is similar—enough that I believe it warrants further exploration.”

  “And, you agree?” Candace posed her question to the Secretary of Defense.

  “I do.”

  Candace turned her attention to Joshua Tate. “Joshua?”

  Tate nodded. “None of this information is new, Madame President. Kaliningrad has been a point of concern for our European allies for decades.”

  “But if I am understanding this correctly, this build-up is new,” Candace commented. She gauged Joshua Tate’s response thoughtfully. Tate was cautious and measured. Candace felt a sense of relief. Tate didn’t suspect that Alex had put this information on the front-burner for her cabinet to find—he knew it. He would allow the others in the room to lead the way—at least, that is what he would do when everyone was in the room. Candace wondered how her National Security Adviser’s assessment might change when they spoke privately.

  “I don’t find any of the new intelligence surprising,” Tate offered. “The question is whether the Russians are fortifying a defensive position or seeking to prepare for an offensive mission.”

  “We know they have designs on the Baltic States,” Gil Rodgers interjected.

  “True. Military aggression in that area is hardly on the same playing field as the movement within Ukraine,” Jennifer Gorham said.

  “Joshua?” Candace deferred to her National Security Adviser.

  “Jen and Gil are both correct. If logic prevailed, we wouldn’t have half the problems we are facing,” Tate said.

  Candace chuckled. Accurate. “Proposals?” she asked.

  “Beef up our assets nearby,” Rodgers replied. “Partner with the embassies in Poland, Lithuania, and Finland. They have a direct line to dormant assets in the area.”

  “Dormant?” Candace questioned. She watched at Secretary Rodgers shifted in his chair and turned again to Joshua Tate.

  “Embedded,” Tate began. “For decades, in some cases. Many of these people have not been active in years.”

  “How many?” Candace asked.

  Tate offered her a suggestive smile.

  “I see. What are your thoughts on all of this, Nate?” she asked the vice president.

  “The Baltics are always of concern
,” he agreed. “Russia is clever—more so than I think most Americans understand. There is a purpose to everything they do. If we have this intelligence, chances are someone wanted us to have it—someone in Russia.”

  Tate nodded.

  “You agree,” Candace surmised.

  “I do,” Tate said. “The question is who.”

  “And to what end,” Candace said.

  “And to what end,” Tate repeated.

  “Very well, let’s continue our surveillance and see how close we can get without tipping the scales too far,” Candace told the group. She received a roomful of nods and stood to bid her staff farewell. “I want Joshua to run point on this,” she told them. “As much as possible, filter your information through him. We need this to be streamlined. And, don’t leave anything out—any of you. I will decide what’s important. Don’t assume anything is inconsequential.” Another round of nods preceded customary handshakes before the room emptied. “Joshua? Stay a moment?”

  Tate reclaimed his seat and waited as Candace walked Nate Ellison to the door.

  “Why do I get the feeling there is more to this meeting than you’ve told me?” Ellison inquired.

  Candace winked.

  “Candace, I hope that you trust me enough—”

  “I trust you,” she said. “You need to trust me right now.”

  Ellison held the president’s gaze firmly. Candace had yet to leave him out of the loop on any matter that she deemed important. Candace Reid seldom discounted anything as menial. Candace had treated Ellison as a partner, not a subordinate—until now.

  Vice President Ellison’s evident curiosity curled Candace’s lips into a smile. She respected the younger man, and not for the first time, she found herself glad she’d chosen him to sit beside her. “I promise; you will understand this meeting soon.”

  “If there’s a reason to doubt anyone in that room—”

  Astute. Candace laid her hand on Ellison’s arm. “I’m not convinced anything nefarious has happened.”

  “But it might have?”

  “Let’s just say I’d like to avoid any icebergs.”

  Ellison nodded. Leaks. There was nothing worse than a leaky ship, particularly in precarious waters.

  “Thank you,” Candace said.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Exactly.”

  Ellison chuckled. “Let me know when there is something I can do.”