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  “You’ll be the first.” Candace watched as he walked away. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She valued transparency. She was out of her comfort zone. She steadied herself and closed the door to the Oval Office.

  “He was a good choice,” Tate offered.

  “He was.” Candace reclaimed her seat and regarded the man before her. “So—”

  “I wondered what had prompted Alex’s call the other day.”

  “She suspected you would.”

  “She’s right to be overly cautious,” Tate replied.

  “Of you?” Candace asked.

  “Of everyone.”

  Candace sighed.

  “I told you long ago; Alex is the best at what she does.”

  “And, Agent Brackett?”

  Tate laughed. “Agent Bracket is a bit more—colorful, than Agent Toles. She’s also one of the most intelligent people I have ever met.”

  “But?”

  “Once upon a time, I would have counseled you to exercise caution.”

  “But not now.”

  “Agent Brackett was never known for her loyalty. Not broadly. The few who held it—well, let’s just say that when Claire Brackett gives someone her loyalty, she is undaunted in that measure. She would die before she would betray Alex.”

  Candace nodded. “Alex?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because of Cassidy?”

  “I think that’s the biggest part of it,” Tate admitted. “I will assume by this conversation that Alex has agreed to let Claire hit the ground running.”

  “You sound a bit surprised.”

  “I am.”

  “You just said that Claire could be trusted.”

  “I believe that to be true. Claire is not the neat and tidy kind, Candace. She gets results. Sometimes, she creates a shitstorm in the process. Alex is methodical. Claire is—”

  “Reckless?”

  “Unrestrained.”

  “How is that different?”

  “It’s different,” Tate said. “While I hate to admit it, it’s why she gets results. She’s not afraid to act, Candace.”

  Candace pressed down a wave of nausea. “Are you telling me I should expect a trail of bodies?”

  “I’m telling you that Claire Brackett knows how to get answers. Alex is an adept agent, Candace. There is no one better—and, I mean no one who can look at the pieces of a puzzle and make them fit. She sees things other people can’t, and she knows how to discern the meaning. Claire will get Alex what she needs. That’s their dynamic.”

  “None of this surprises you; does it?”

  “Do you mean the intelligence Alex has astutely crafted about the Russians, or do you mean the fact that she tested my allegiance?”

  “Both.”

  “When you asked me to accept this post, I told you that there were things you would discover that would make you question everything you thought you understood.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I trust Alex. I trust Claire. I trust you—as much as I can trust any person.”

  Candace sighed heavily. “Never let your guard down, is that it?”

  “You know the answer. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is follow your instinct—obey what your gut tells you. I’m not surprised by anything—not any longer. As for Russia, the intel that Alex rolled to State and Defense was just different enough that we should be able to tell if we have a mole in one department or both.”

  “What does your gut tell you?”

  “To watch your back, Madame President.”

  “And your counsel on how to proceed with what we do know?”

  “Exactly as we are,” Tate said.

  “What about the villages?”

  “If we intervene in any way—even if that is to leak images to the media, hoping to frame it as a humanitarian crisis, we’ll tip our hand.”

  “So, we let those people starve.”

  Tate shrugged. “People are starving everywhere.”

  “Not helping.”

  “I know. You know better than most that we can’t fix everything.”

  “That doesn’t mean we should ignore it,” Candace returned.

  “We’re not—you’re not. Give yourself a break, Madame President,” Tate advised. “This office has challenged the toughest men I’ve ever met. I watched President Merrow age daily behind that desk.” He gestured behind the president. “Not many people have the strength to acknowledge what they can’t do, so that they can invest their energy appropriately.”

  “I don’t have to like it.”

  “No. Let’s hope you never do.”

  NEW YORK CITY

  Claire watched as Charlie Hawkins paced the living room floor in circles. She waited—and waited for Hawk’s response. Nothing. “Are you going to say anything, or am I going to watch you play teacup all day?”

  Hawk turned.

  “What? You’re spinning in circles.”

  “What do you want me to say, Claire?”

  “I don’t want you to say anything.”

  “You don’t think this is something you should have discussed with me first?”

  “Which something are we talking about?”

  “Cut the bullshit,” Hawk bit. “You intend to traipse off to parts unknown to meet with a Russian Oligarch, and I’m not supposed to be angry?”

  “I don’t get it,” Claire said.

  “What don’t you get?”

  “This is what we do—both of us.”

  “Is it? Am I the only one who thought we’d turned a page?”

  Claire huffed. “Turned a page? You turned a page. What do you want from me, Hawk? I know you’re happy sitting behind that big desk the NSA gave you—deciding which agents merit work—deciding what cases matter.”

  “I’ve told you a million times; I don’t have any influence over what happens to you and Alex at the FBI.”

  “But you know why we’ve been stalled.”

  Hawk groaned.

  “Hawk?”

  “Christ, Claire. You’re the most intelligent person I know. Do the math.”

  “Maybe I’d rather you solve the equation for me.”

  Hawk’s eyes closed with defeat. “This—Claire, this is the reason. One plus one. It was only a matter of time until they broke you.”

  “You’re telling me that someone wants us back inside this nightmare?”

  “You could be an asset to a lot of people,” Hawk replied.

  “I’m not looking to be anyone’s asset.”

  “So, your loyalty is to Alex.”

  “Yes. My loyalty is to what’s right.”

  “What’s right? What about what is right for us?”

  “Oh, come on. We’re not like other people—not me, not you, not Alex, not even Cassidy. I can’t leave it.”

  “I never would have believed it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How much you and Alex are alike.”

  “Hardly.”

  “No. You are. You’re both on some mission to fix the past. For Alex, it’s her father’s. For you, it’s—”

  “It’s not about the past, Hawk. Not for me, it isn’t.”

  Hawk fell silent.

  Claire stood and walked to the window. She looked out at a sea of city lights and shook her head. “Over a million people,” she muttered.

  “What did you say?”

  Claire turned back to her lover. “Over a million people live in this city.”

  “And?”

  “Most of them have no idea what you do—what I’ve seen—what I’ve done.” Claire’s gaze returned to the city. “Whatever they believe is the truth is an illusion. I envy them.” Claire scanned the lights, some twinkling, some dim, still others burning bright. She searched for a way to make Hawk understand. Most people in the intelligence community viewed Claire as unpredictable, self-serving, and a liar. She would admit that the first two assessments had once been accurate. Claire struggled when a directive demanded that
she lie. More times than she could count, she’d told the truth. Claire had learned that people heard what they expected to hear or wanted to be told. If someone thought she would say the word blue, they would find a way to hear the word blue. It was seldom necessary to lie. Claire Brackett made it a point never to lie to someone for whom she cared. She wouldn’t lie to Hawk.

  “Claire?”

  Claire turned on her heels and smiled. “I love you, Hawk. I can’t walk away from this—not this. Candace and JD are friends—my friends. Alex? Alex is—”

  “Your partner.”

  Claire nodded. “She’s family.”

  Claire’s declaration stunned Hawk. She knew that Claire loved Cassidy. Cassidy was the big sister, the mother figure that Claire had longed for all her life. Until now, she had seen Alex as part of the inevitable package. “Because of Cassidy?”

  “Yes and no. It started that way. It’s more than that. Krause, Cass, Alex, El—”

  “Eleana—”

  “This isn’t about my past with Eleana, Hawk. It is about something we all share that you will never be able to understand—not really. It’s no accident that we collided—all of us. It was inevitable. Whether our fathers tried to keep us apart or to push us together, I’m still not sure. Here we are.”

  “Destiny? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “Not destiny—shared destiny. The past isn’t dead, Hawk. It binds people together.” She glanced out the window. “Even those people down there who have no idea what is happening twenty floors above. And, it repeats itself. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I don’t understand what you are telling me,” Hawk confessed.

  “It’s not about the past. Maybe the past has clues that can help us avoid repeating it. You can’t understand. I don’t want to look Mackenzie or Fallon in the eye in twenty years and see what I felt when I looked at my father. What I know Alex feels—what El, and Krause, and Cassidy feel. Haunted. Confused. Lost. Betrayed.”

  “Claire, you won’t be looking anyone in the eye if you’re not careful.”

  “Caution isn’t going to create change. People are not cautious when they systematically murder others, or they build nuclear weapons. I can’t afford caution. Not now. I won’t let Candace suffer the same fate as John.”

  “That was not your fault.”

  “Directly? No, of course not. My father played me like the perfectly strung fiddle I’d become. Do you know that he regarded John Merrow as a son?” Claire laughed. “A son? Do you know why I killed Elliot Mercier?”

  “Eleana’s brother?”

  “Yes. Do you know why he’s dead?”

  “No.”

  “My father demanded it. I’ve never told anyone that until now—not even Eleana. I thought that if I did his bidding—”

  “Claire, Elliot Mercier was no saint.”

  “None of us are. I have to live with what I did every day. Not just what I took from Elliot; what I took from El. I can never make up for that. I will do everything I can to ensure Mackenzie never mourns Dylan—that Cassidy never has to mourn Alex—not like that.”

  “And what about me? You would leave me to mourn you?”

  Claire’s crestfallen expression broke Hawk’s heart.

  “No. I hope you never do. I’m not going to Europe to die, Hawk. I’m not afraid of death. There are far worse fates. Trust me.”

  “So, that’s it then.”

  Claire smiled.

  “I wish you would reconsider,” Hawk said.

  Claire crossed the room and took Hawk’s face into her hands. “I wish you would too.”

  Hawk accepted Claire’s kiss. “You won’t push me away that easily.”

  “I don’t want to push you away,” Claire confessed. “I just don’t want you to hold on too tightly.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WESTPORT, CONNECTICUT

  A WEEK LATER

  Cassidy watched Connor chase Abby down the hallway. This might not end well.

  “Connor!”

  Wait for it. Boom!

  “Mommy!”

  Cassidy set down her coffee cup and calmly made her way to the hallway. Abby was on the floor. Connor was on top of her.

  “Mommy!” Abby whined.

  “Are you hurt?” Cassidy asked.

  “Connor—”

  “If you two insist on running through the house, someone is bound to fall down. Slow down.”

  “He did it!”

  “That wasn’t your voice daring your brother to catch you that I heard?” Cassidy asked.

  Abby looked at the floor.

  “Mm-hum. Slow down. I realize it’s a rainy afternoon and you’re bored. Why don’t you go downstairs and play for a bit?”

  Abby huffed.

  “Abby—”

  “Okay.”

  Cassidy shook her head as if to clear a fog that had settled. I need more coffee. She’d been working on drafting some talking points for Candace all morning. One distraction after another had left her tired, frustrated, and irritable. It didn’t help that her thoughts kept roaming. She’d told Alex that she didn’t want to know what her father had to offer. She didn’t. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Why was her brain determined to keep posing the same question? What had her father told Alex? What had he never told her?

  “Cassidy?”

  Cassidy turned to find Helen looking at her with concern.

  “Too much coffee today or too little?” Helen asked.

  “Jury’s out. What are you doing here?”

  Helen lifted her brow. “Last I knew, we had a lunch date.”

  “Oh, shit!”

  Helen laughed. “I’ll go with not enough coffee.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Bad time?”

  “No. No, it isn’t. I just seem to be scattered today.”

  “How about we order some pizza. That should feed the masses.”

  “This house is going to turn into a pizza parlor soon,” Cassidy commented. “I think that’s all anyone ate while I was away last weekend.”

  “Safe bet. We could order pizza for the kids and Chinese for us.”

  “We could.”

  “Not in the mood?”

  “It’s Candace’s favorite. I consumed my share of chicken wings and lo mien last weekend.”

  “Okay. How about we all go out?”

  “All of us?”

  “Mackenzie is still at school, isn’t she?”

  “She’s going to a friend’s today. She won’t be home until after dinner.”

  “Okay. So, that makes it a party of five. You pick the place. I’ll pay the bill,” Helen said. “Maybe a change of scenery is in order.”

  “Are you sure? I can—”

  “You get Fallon. I will wrangle the twins.”

  Cassidy smiled gratefully. “It’s a date.”

  NEW YORK CITY

  “Walsh is passing us off, hey?” Claire mused.

  Alex shrugged. “Somebody set things in motion faster than I expected.”

  “Do you think this is it? Our funeral?”

  “Not funny.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. I don’t know. If it is—are you ready?” Alex asked.

  “You mean to quit my job? I was ready the day I started.”

  Alex chuckled. “How does Hawk feel about that?”

  “I’ve seen her happier.”

  “Claire, if—”

  “Don’t. We both know what we have to do, Alex. McCollum is right.”

  “About what?”

  “All of it. No matter what he tells you; it won’t change our past. You and me? We’re never going to understand our fathers. Your kids don’t have to share that fate.”

  “What about your kids?” Alex teased.

  “Oh, hell no. It’s enough dealing with that cult of yours.”

  “Cult?”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Only you, Claire.”

  Claire
gloated.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Eager to get rid of me?”

  Alex sobered and stopped walking.

  “Hey, I was kidding.”

  “No matter what, we’re partners.”

  Claire nodded.

  “No matter what,” Alex repeated the sentiment.

  Claire followed Alex to the Assistant Director’s office door. “No matter what.”

  NATICK, MASSACHUSETTS

  “Do I want to know what you’re working on?” Eleana asked Jonathan.

  “An entrance for Claire. It’s not proving as easy as I’d hoped.”

  “Gregorovich isn’t a pushover.”

  “I know. Makes me miss Dimitri—just a little,” Jonathan mused.

  Eleana laughed. The underbelly of what most people regarded as political policy making was nothing short of bizarre. Dimitri Kargen had been a thorn in Jonathan Krause’s side for over a decade. He wreaked havoc wherever he traveled, thwarting long-planned missions, inserting himself in business deals without any apparent reason—other than the fact that he could insert himself. He used his uncle’s authority and notoriety as the basis for everything from economic intimidation to murder. He was part of the same secret world that Eleana and Jonathan navigated their entire lives. Nemesis or ally, a kinship was felt among everyone in the ring of espionage. Few had chosen their profession. Most agents and operatives were recruited under false pretense. Others, like Eleana and Jonathan, had been born into the life, groomed since birth to become spies.

  “What can I do to help?” Eleana asked.

  “I hate to admit this, but I need your contacts if we have any hope of making Claire’s entrance believable.”

  Eleana nodded. “I can’t negotiate from here.”

  “I know.”

  “Gregorovich will test her.”

  “I know that too. How do you feel about this?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. El, you love Claire.”

  “I love you.”

  “I’m not saying this out of jealousy,” Jonathan replied. “You do know that there is nothing we can do that will guarantee her safety—not once she crosses the line.”

  “Jonathan,” Eleana began gently. “Are you worried about me, about Claire being compromised, or are you concerned that Claire will betray Alex?”

  Jonathan remained silent.

  “That’s what I thought. Alex trusts Claire. You need to let go of the past. If you can’t trust Claire, trust your sister.”