enemies of the state (15 page)

* * * * *

Ethan’s phone buzzing on his nightstand woke him up just before nine AM. Squinting, he grabbed for the phone, reaching across his bed and pulling it into the pillows with him. Shirtless, Ethan rolled onto his back with a groan before pulling the phone up to his face.

A new message greeted him.

Is this Ethan?

His heart skipped a beat. He checked the area code. It wasn’t DC. Ethan pulled up the Internet and searched the number. It was a Texas number. Austin. He swallowed.

[Is this POTUS?]

You really can call me by my first name. Especially if we’re engaging in clandestine texts now.

Ethan exhaled hard, a smile breaking his face in two. Jack was texting him. That had to mean something.

[Sure thing, Mr. President.]

You’re hopeless.

Ethan struggled for something to say. He pushed himself up, leaning back against his headboard.

[Long night? You guys were still going strong when I left at midnight.]

We called it quits just after one am.

[And you’ve slept, right?]

Yes, Mom.

[Just doing my duty. Can’t have a POTUS go insane from lack of sleep.]

Your dedication is admirable. You should be promoted.

[Ha. I’m fired if anyone finds out about this. And a promotion would take me out of the White House. I’m happy where I am.]

There was a long pause. Ethan stared at the phone, willing another text to buzz in. His foot jiggled under the covers. God, he had to pee. But he didn’t want to miss a message. Cursing, Ethan ambled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He bit his phone between his teeth and pissed, and naturally, the phone nearly cracked his teeth when it buzzed. He spit it out, catching the phone one-handed as he finished.

You mentioned that before. I don’t understand. Why is it a big deal if we are friends? I’m friends with other members of my staff.

He washed his hands and headed back for the bed, trying to figure out what to say.

[Your staff are all princes of politics. It’s all good to be friends with them. We’re just the help, sir. It’s unseemly to befriend us. Beyond that, it’s an agent’s job to maintain objective distance within their protective detail assignment. If someone gets too close to a protectee, they might make a bad judgement call, or be prejudiced toward that protectee. There’s also a power differential, and a power perception. The rules are there to protect you, sir.]

He bit his lip after he hit send. He’d just condemned himself and made it sound like he was all right being fast and loose with Jack’s security. He typed quickly.

[Getting to know you has made me more dedicated to you, sir. And to your safety.]

Ethan waited.

That’s good to hear. I have never had any security concerns. You and your men are amazing. And I’d like to think that, as adults, we know how to separate professional and personal.

That stung in all the wrong places. Wasn’t that exactly what was wrong with Ethan? He shifted, heaving a sigh.

[One would hope, sir.]

What do you mean about a power perception?

Oh boy. They were going all sorts of places they shouldn’t.

[You’re the POTUS, sir. Technically, we’re supposed to follow all of our own rules. But if a POTUS demands something different, then we usually give in. We’re not proud of it, but what do you do when the POTUS demands something? So, if there is an interpersonal relationship and a president were to demand something…personal from an agent, would the agent feel obliged to give in? Would they feel like they could say no to the POTUS?]

OMG. Is that what happened here, Ethan? I was worried that I’d pushed you into something you didn’t want. Did I?

Shit. Ethan typed furiously.

[NO. No, sir. I gave you my number freely. That was my choice. I have decided to carefully bend the rules here. I’m not giving in to anything from you. You’re not pressuring me, sir.]

Another long pause. Ethan stared at his phone. Kept refreshing the screen when it went dark. He flopped back on the bed, resting the phone on his chest. Nothing.

Eventually, Ethan headed for his kitchen. He tossed his phone on the kitchen island and pulled out a carton of OJ and eggs. He didn’t bother with a glass for the OJ as he scrambled three eggs, all the while sliding glances to his silent phone.

Halfway through breakfast, his phone buzzed.

That’s quite disturbing, Ethan. I’d hate to think that anyone would do that, much less someone in this office. Has it happened before?

[Yes.]

Please know that I will never do something like that. If you even think I am demanding or asking for something that isn’t allowed, or pressuring you, or anyone, for…anything. Please smack me.

[LOL. I won’t smack you, sir. I’ll politely lean in and ask if you’re sure.]

Well, maybe you can growl a bit.

Fuck. Ethan dropped his fork, letting it clatter to his plate. His cock twitched. Dammit. Jack wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t.

He stared at his phone. He had no idea what to say in response to that.

What are you up to today? You’re not here, are you?

[Nope. I have the weekend off. Not doing much of anything right now. I was sleeping in…]

Ethan grinned. Time to let his hair down. If Jack could dish it, then he could take it.

Damn. I have a talent for ruining your days off. I’m sorry.

[No worries. This is better.]

Silence, again. Ethan bounced the phone in his hand. Was that too much?

This may sound strange, but would you like to come over and watch the ball game later? The Nationals are up in the series. I’m rooting for my Texas Rangers, of course, but any summer day with a game is good, right? Please, feel free to decline. You don’t have to hang out at your office on your weekend. No pressure. But I have always meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you better.

Jesus. Ethan closed his eyes. As much as he wanted this to be a date, as much as he wanted to read between the lines and find all sorts of signs and signals, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t project his desire on him. Jack was just looking for friendship. He’d said so earlier. He just wanted to be friends. Ethan couldn’t pretend this was anything more than that.

[I would like to, sir. Sounds like fun. I’m concerned about how to go about doing that, though. Technically, I’m not supposed to be hanging out with you on my days off.]

So just leaving the door unlocked and hollering at you to come on up won’t work?

[The alarms would go off if the doors were left unlocked. And I’d pass about half of my detail, all of them wondering why I was there and why I was with you.]

Sounds like that’s a no?

[No. It’s not a no. It’s a ‘let me figure this out.’]

[Sir.]

You really can call me first name. Especially if we’re doing secret baseball missions now.

*by my first name

Grinning, Ethan texted back quickly.

[All right, First Name. ☺]

You’re hopeless. ☺

I’m just going to be banging around this big empty house until the game starts. Let me know if you’d like to come over and how you’d like to conduct this secret mission. I leave all tactical matters in your hands.

[LOL All right. I’m going to go for a run and think it through. I’ll text you soon, First Name.]

I’ll have the beer cold and ready for you, Hopeless.

Ethan dropped his phone on his kitchen table with a clatter. He stared at it and then buried his face in his hands. Now they had pet names for each other. This wasn’t helping. But it felt so good, so deliciously good.

He headed for his bedroom, stripping his boxers and kicking them toward the top of his overflowing laundry pile before grabbing his running shorts from the floor. His boxers fell down the mountain of his laundry, fluttering to the wood floors. Damn. He was down to the last few suits in his closet and had to run by the dry cleaners, or he’d be naked at work by Tuesday. Ethan stared at his closet and the last two suits hanging in place, as an idea slowly formed.

* * * * *

Ethan jogged the National Mall, looping from Foggy Bottom, down 2nd Street, out to the Lincoln Memorial, and then east past the reflecting pool. He sprinted up the hill to the Washington Monument and then jogged down the backside, running at a comfortable pace past the Smithsonian toward Congress. Jack consumed his thoughts.

He stopped for a rest on the green across from the Capitol. His phone was pumping music into his earbuds, and as he readjusted the armband, he saw his message light blinking. He pulled his phone out, wiping sweat from his forehead. Jack had texted him again.

Do I have to play nice with the French? Can I tell them to go get stuffed?

Ethan chuckled.

[Yikes. What happened?]

He shouldn’t be asking. Add that to the list of “shouldn’ts.”

They’re being difficult over the NATO Summit next month. They were all on board with wanting Russia there when we were at Camp David. Now they are blaming the invite on us. Naturally. It’s not like I need more complications in our foreign policy.

[No, you seriously don’t.]

I thought you were running?

Ethan held up his phone, snapping a quick picture of the Capitol building and pushing it over text to Jack.

Lies. You didn’t just run there. You drove.

He pasted a ridiculous grin on his face and snapped a quick selfie. Dripping with sweat, red faced, and bare chested. Not his greatest picture ever. He pressed send.

Wow. That’s impressive. You’re quite a beast. To be honest, I cry sometimes when we run together after you leave. You can go forever. I might call you the Energizer Bunny.

Ethan closed his eyes and threw his head back, dropping the phone to his side as he clenched his hands. His phone whined in his fist. Exhaling, he loosened his grip and focused on keeping his dick soft. He didn’t need to pop a boner in his running shorts, and definitely not because the president had called him an Energizer Bunny.

[Please don’t let that get out. I’ll never hear the end of it on the detail.]

I won’t say a word. Scout’s Honor. Should I tell the stewards to expect Mr. Bunny tonight?

[It’s your funeral. ☺]

☺ Hop along, Mr. Bunny.

Enough. Ethan popped his earbuds back in and slid his phone back into his armband. On a whim, he turned up Pennsylvania Avenue, running north. The White House loomed before him, gleaming and serene. Would Jack be on the Truman balcony, enjoying the sun? He stopped at the fence, snapping another picture just like every other tourist. One of the gate guards noticed him and nodded. Ethan nodded back as he sent the photo to Jack.

Hey, you’re early.

[Just passing by. Or hopping by, as I’m sure you’ll claim.]

I just waved to you from the Oval. You know, I didn’t think there’d be this much work when I applied for this job. Who can I complain to about this workload?

[God?]

Ha! If only the Caliphate would take a weekend off once in a while. Or just disappear entirely.

[We could only be so lucky. Hopping on, First Name. This bunny has miles to go.]

You’re disgusting.

[It’s only ten miles. You can come with me sometime.]

How about you come swimming with me? Couple laps in the pool, and I’ll smoke you.

Ethan tucked his phone back in his armband and jogged on. He’d stand there for hours, texting back and forth, if he wasn’t careful, dopey grin on his face and all. Nope, no time for that. He had to get home, get his clothes to the dry cleaners, and get dressed up in his suit again. Tonight, he was headed back into work to, ostensibly, catch up on a few things. If he just happened to swing by the Residence and end up spending a few hours with the president…

They could make this work. They could.

Chapter Seven

Islamic Caliphate Targets Chinese Reconstruction Projects in Iraq & East Africa

On the heels of the Islamic Caliphate’s brutal slaying of two more hostages, Caliphate fighters attacked and devastated reconstruction projects in western and central Iraq, and aid projects in Somalia and Kenya in Africa. The reconstruction projects in Iraq were run by the Chinese government and were focused on rebuilding Iraq’s infrastructure, including roads, bridges, hospitals, and oil pipelines. In Somalia, Caliphate fighters bombed and destroyed the construction of the new deep-water port in Mogadishu, Somalia’s capital, and in Kenya, fighters stormed the manufacturing plant of Rift Valley Steel, a materials manufacturing plant that supplies steel to East African reconstruction projects. In Iraq, Chinese expatriate workers were executed, and the video was posted online to the Caliphate’s social media accounts. In Somalia, workers managed to flee the attack, some of them jumping into the port waters to escape. Three Kenyans died in the attack at Rift Valley Steel. The Chinese response has thus far been a recommitment of personnel and materials to Iraq. Beijing promised to uphold their commitments to Iraq, which include a two-billion-dollar aid package. In order to safeguard their projects, the Chinese are planning to ask for a deployment of “security forces” alongside their projects. While no details have been given as to who or what these security forces are, most experts seem to believe that they are, in fact, Chinese military personnel. China is reportedly asking for up to 100,000 security forces to be allowed into Iraq, which is just under the total number of soldiers that the United States used in their invasion of Iraq in 2003. Baghdad is expected to approve Beijing’s request.

* * * * *

Three weeks and eight secret meetups later, Ethan was more confused than he’d been before.

Spending time with Jack was supposed to help satiate his yearning. He was throwing caution to the wind, taking a chance on building a friendship with a man who meant something to him, more than anyone had in Ethan’s memory. He’d told himself over and over that it would stay as friends. It was all Jack could give, and it was more than enough. He could yearn for Jack in the silence of his heart and focus on building their friendship. Their platonic friendship.