As Kamal sat in the living room of his hotel suite, still in sweats and a T-shirt, he had to admit it was a rather impressive photo. That they’d been able to snap him from a rooftop a few hundred yards away and still have him be recognizable in the dark was a testament to modern digital photography.

“Sir?” Tariq asked. “Did you want the rest of the bad news now, or maybe you’d like to digest that bit first?”

Kamal gave his security chief the side eye before tossing the newspaper down on the coffee table. “Oh, by all means, let’s get it all out now.”

Tariq stifled a grin, schooling his features quickly. “Yes, sir. So, in addition to the Washington Post publishing the photos of you entering the White House after hours, there’s an Egyptian expat who is claiming that you’ve been a double agent for the American government for years and that you’ve only requested asylum now to keep from being executed for espionage back home.”

“Well, since none of that is true, I’m not terribly concerned about it. He won’t be able to provide any evidence so it can’t harm me in the long run… Who is it?”

“Salim Hasaad.”

“Yes. A long-time associate of President Abbas, so not surprising.”

Tariq continued. “And the president has received a threat on her life via the New York Times.”

Kamal bolted off the sofa, spilling his coffee in the process and swearing like a sailor.

“You waited to tell me this until the end, why?”

He stormed into the bedroom, ripping off his T-shirt as he went.

Tariq followed, phone in hand as he texted something. “I waited because it’s not directly related to you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Kamal turned, brow furrowed, and eyes flashing. “It has everything to do with me. Anything that has to do with the president now has to do with me. Are we clear?”

Tariq sighed. “Yes, sir. But you need to remember that the president has the finest protection force in the world—well, aside from yours—and they aren’t going to let anything happen to her. She’s locked up in the White House with half the United States Marine Corps surrounding her along with the Secret Service, and Homeland Security personnel in half the clerical and IT jobs. No one’s getting to her.”

Kamal pulled on a button-down, leaving it open as he dropped his sweats and grabbed a pair of flat-front chinos. He stepped into the slacks and hurriedly fastened them. “Why the hell are you texting? And don’t tell me they can’t get to her, I was there when they shot at her in her supposedly safe and guarded yard.”

Tariq tucked the phone into the front pocket of his leather jacket. “Car’s waiting, sir.”

“And I want the car brought… What?”

“The car’s waiting downstairs, sir. You are going to the White House, aren’t you?”

Kamal huffed out a breath. “Yes.”

“Even though you can’t do a damn thing for her that the resources of the world’s largest superpower aren’t already?”

Kamal grabbed his wallet and shoved it into his pocket, draping a sport coat over his arm with the other hand. “I can be her friend.”

“Yes, there is that.” Tariq let the smirk loose this time, and Kamal growled at him as he walked by.

“And sir?”

Kamal paused, hand on the doorknob to exit the suite. “What now?”

“If you’re going to be the president’s friend…you might want to take a moment to brush your teeth.”

Kamal’s face was a study in fury, but he didn’t say a word as he stormed back to the bathroom, Tariq chuckling the entire time.

* * *

He was hovering. It was sweet, but Jessica thought she might lose her mind if he didn’t stop.

“Kamal?” she said from her desk where she was trying to get through paperwork that had been sitting there for days.

“Yes?” He jumped up from his seat nearby.

Jessica sighed and tried not to roll her eyes. “You really don’t need to stay here all day. They’ve doubled security both in and out of the building, and I only have one engagement off the premises today. A quick trip to the Hill to meet with the Speaker of the House. Why don’t you go ahead and do what you need to do and come back for the state dinner this evening at eight.”

“Why are you going to the Hill? They’re supposed to come to you.”

She sighed, willing herself to be patient with the man. “It was a special invitation. It’s his tenth year in office, and he requested that I join him for a small celebration.”

Kamal muttered something under his breath.

“Kamal.” She walked to him and placed her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You’re going to drive me insane if you don’t go do something else.”

“That letter to the Times was a real threat, Jessica,” he answered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She tried not to get sidetracked from her purpose, but his touch made it difficult.

“And we are treating it seriously. But I’m still the president, and I have a lot of work to do. I can’t if you’re parked in my office all day. In addition to the fact that while they have a photo of you entering the building last night, they haven’t yet figured out that we’re involved romantically. The more you hang around here, the sooner they’re going to catch on.”

He sighed and nodded but then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, sending flurries of warmth and tingling through her. “I’ve been receiving information all morning relating to Abbas and his involvement with the Bratva. Would your staff be willing to discuss it with me?”

“Of course. They’ve been told that they need to be in communication with you about it. And if they bristle at possible security breaches, I’ll tell Vanessa to bring me in immediately. I’ll have her set you up with some of the Homeland Security staff and someone from the Pentagon right away.”

“How about Colonel Thibadeux? He’s a close friend, as you know. He has more than adequate security clearance for the conversation.”

“Of course, whoever you want is fine.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, and she couldn’t help but smile. He was irritating, but so charming at the same time. “But I want to go with you to the Hill.”

She started to interrupt him, but he put a finger over her lips. “I won’t go into the building, just let me ride along. It will make me feel better, and it’s only a car ride, in a limo with tinted windows. No one will know I’m there.”

She shook her head but smiled. “Fine. I’ll have Vanessa get you when it’s time to go. Now, let’s get you set up to discuss this mess about your former leader. I’d like to be out from under this ridiculous security excess as soon as possible.

* * *

“So let me make sure I understand everything that we do know,” Jeff began as Kamal sat down with him and two members of the director of Homeland Security’s upper staff as well as Vanessa. “We know that the Bratva are smuggling the drugs, we know that it’s Abbas’s freight shipping company that they’re using to do it, we know that the bullets used in the White House shooting were standard Bratva assassin ware, and we know that the terrorist group that signed the letter to the New York Times this morning is one of the groups that the Bratva is selling the drugs to.”

Kamal nodded along with the others in the room.

“But we haven’t been able to specifically pin the hit on the Bratva, and we don’t know how Mr. Masri’s father is involved, although we think he is?” Jeff looked to Kamal.

“My father put tremendous pressure on me to end the talks for the accord, and has been in several business ventures with Abbas over the years. He’s also in a photo with Abbas and a high-ranking leader of the Bratva taken recently.”

Jeff nodded.

“But I have additional information this morning, which is why I wanted to meet with all of you,” Kamal added. He set his phone down on the table and slid it toward Jeff. “Pass that around while I explain it. The man on the left in that photo is President Abbas’s brother, and the man he’s talking to is a very well-known Bratva assassin, the same assassin who was spotted in DC during the twelve hours prior to the attempt on the president’s life.”

Jeff passed the phone along. “And when was this taken?”

Kamal smiled. “Thirty-six hours before the assassination attempt.”

“And who took it and how did you get it?” Vanessa asked, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know who took it, unfortunately, but it does have a time and date stamp, so the timing can be verified. I got it because whoever did take it put it up for sale on a black market site that specializes in espionage artifacts and tidbits of intelligence.”

“You bought it?” Jeff shook his head.

“No. My man contacted the seller and explained to him that if he didn’t hand it over, the US government would be on him so hard, they’d be in him.” Kamal grinned. “It worked. He didn’t really have any idea what he had, just knew that someone somewhere would be interested in a government official’s brother meeting with a known assassin.”

Vanessa turned to the pair from Homeland Security before passing the phone back to Kamal. “Is this enough to do or say something official, finally?”

The older of the two nodded. “I think it’s enough for us to dispatch someone to the embassy in Cairo and start discussions with the parliament. They wanted more evidence when President Hampton spoke to the prime minister the other night, but he wasn’t opposed to an investigation. He simply needed more proof to cover his ass.”

“Yes, and I don’t blame him, because when the prime minister and Abbas go at it, it’s going to get ugly,” the second Homeland Security staffer said.

“It is,” Kamal agreed. “And you should use me to help you with any inside information that you might need as this whole thing proceeds. I can give you insights that you won’t get from your ambassador in Cairo, and that even your Egypt experts in-house can’t provide.”

Vanessa nodded. “Yes, the president wants Mr. Masri involved in this at the highest levels.”

The Homeland Security duo looked skeptical, and Kamal felt his anger flare, but Jeff shook his head subtly. Down boy, he seemed to convey.

“I know the military would be happy to have Mr. Masri’s perspective. Anything that can keep our interests protected. We’ll need to put extra personnel at the US embassy in Egypt immediately, and the general will look at bringing in extra troops to the region to quell any possible eruptions due to the destabilization of the government.”

Kamal took a deep breath, overcome with sadness for his people. The rush of resigning his post, moving out of the embassy, and trying to juggle concern for Jessica’s safety with an investigation to catch Abbas and his cronies had distracted Kamal from the fact that he was now a man without a country—a man who had forsaken his own people. His heart ached, and the guilt was invasive. He might not feel that Egypt was home, but he would always feel Egyptian, and the last thing he’d ever wanted was to put the people of Egypt at risk. But he had to admit that if Abbas fought the prime minister’s investigation, things could become uncivil quickly.

A knock sounded on the door, and then one of the president’s secretaries stuck his head in. “Mr. Masri? The president said that she’s giving you a ride to the Hill?”

“Yes.”

“Her car and driver are ready to leave.”

“Thank you, I’ll be there right away.”

The secretary left, and Kamal stood. “I hope that you will all discuss this carefully before taking the first step. Egypt is a nation that teeters on the brink of discord, and I would hate to be a further disruption to stability there. The people of Egypt don’t deserve more strife than they’ve had to endure in the last decade.”

Jeff nodded, and the Homeland Security staff agreed emphatically.

“Vanessa, I will send this photo to you along with the documentation we received about it and you can distribute to the appropriate parties?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Thank you.” Kamal nodded at Jeff and shook hands with the others before exiting the room and following the Secret Service escort to the Oval Office, where the president was putting on her jacket.

* * *

“Let me help you with that,” Kamal said as he walked in and hurried to hold the other side of Jessica’s jacket.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

“That dress is incredibly sexy on you, Madam President,” he said softly, glancing at the doors that were open to the portico outside where Secret Service and military guards waited.

She smiled knowingly. “Thank you, Mr. Masri.”

They walked to the car and slid into the backseat, security staff climbing into cars in front and in back of them.

“You’ve filled Homeland Security and the military in on the latest information?” Jessica asked as she scrolled through emails on her phone while the car slowly wound through DC traffic.

“Yes, they have the information and…” he hit Send on his own phone, “now they have copies of the photo as well.”

“Vanessa will brief me when I get back, but the general consensus was…?”

“That it’s time to present everything formally to the prime minister and parliament.”

Jessica nodded. “Okay.” She sighed, then turned to him. “I am sorry about all of this. I realize it’s very hard on you.”

Kamal watched the monuments of DC roll past the window, and his mind wandered to the amazing monuments and buildings of his homeland—the pyramids, the ruins of Memphis and Thebes, the mosques of Cairo. He wondered if he would ever see any of those miracles again, the true weight of what he’d done sinking in a bit more. He turned to look at Jessica, finding nothing but love and empathy on her beautiful face. And he knew that while he would mourn the loss of his country, it was worth it in order to protect her.

“It is hard on me, but I’ve done what needed to be done, and I would make the same choice over and over again.”

She nodded and reached out to squeeze his hand gently, quietly, no words needed as they communicated through the tiniest of touches so perfectly.

“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said as the car pulled up in front of the Capitol building.

Peter was sitting in the front seat of the car and exited first, stepping to the back door and opening it. Kamal stepped out to allow Jessica to exit. Peter moved a few feet away to give Kamal room, and another agent began to approach from the car behind as Jessica slid out, shielding her eyes from the sun.

And that was when all hell broke loose. “Shooter!” the voice of an agent on the steps of the Capitol shouted. Kamal’s army-honed reflexes kicked in as they had in the White House gardens. He was no more than two feet from Jessica, and he dove at her, as Peter did the same from farther away. He caught her squarely, her back to his front, one hand wrapped around her head as they headed for the pavement, Peter coming at them from the other side.

But as Jessica’s scream rang out among the shouts of the Secret Service, Kamal felt something rip through his back, searing pain following right behind it. His left arm jerked violently and then he couldn’t catch his breath. He hit the ground, Jessica still beneath him, and felt her struggling to get out from under him. Peter was over them now hissing, “Stay down! Stay down, Madam President!”

Kamal tried to tell Peter that something was wrong, but the words dissolved in a horrible liquid bubbling sound, and in that moment, he knew that the hit had been very bad. Then there were voices everywhere, feet pounding, sirens going off, and he was being moved, pulled onto his back, where more sharp pain jolted through him and everything grew gray in front of his eyes.

“Madam President!” Peter yelled. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Jessica’s voice was trembling, and Kamal tried to reach out to comfort her, but his arms were like lead, refusing to take even the slightest instruction from his hazy mind.

“There’s blood on the president,” someone growled.

“Ma’am, we have to see if you’re…”

That was when Jessica’s voice pitched up. “Kamal! Oh my God, Kamal.”

Her smooth hands cupped his face, and through the pinprick of vision that he retained, he could see her tear-streaked face.

“Shit! Mr. Masri is hit!” Peter shouted. “Ma’am,” Peter said softly as he joined Jessica over Kamal. “You need to get back into the car. I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

“Oh my God, Kamal,” she sobbed.

“Ma’am,” Peter hissed. “You need to let me handle this.”

Jessica nodded, tears streaming down her face. Kamal tried again to tell her that it would all be fine, but when he opened his mouth, only coppery liquid trickled out, and Jessica sobbed harder. Then the pinprick of vision faded, and everything that was gray went to black.

* * *

Jessica had been sitting at the hospital for seven hours now. Kamal had come out of surgery thirty minutes ago, but still they wouldn’t let her see him, and she was about to lose her mind. They’d cleared half the floor at the hospital when they’d brought him in, the Secret Service insisting that the entire surgery and post-op be set up in an otherwise vacant wing of Walter Reed Hospital. She’d sat in an empty room, aides whisking in and out over the hours, asking for official statements, giving her updates on what was happening with the shooter, who’d been caught within minutes of the attack. And now Kamal was out of surgery, and frankly, if they didn’t let her see him in the next five minutes, she was going to pull the president card and just have the Secret Service force the issue.

The door opened, and Jessica leapt to her feet, her heart beating a mile a minute.

“Madam President?” The doctor walked in, hand extended.

“Yes.” She shook his hand. “Do you have news?”

“I do. If you’ll walk with me, I’ll give you the update, and then you can see Mr. Masri.”

“Thank you very much,” she answered grabbing her cardigan off the chair and following the doctor out the door.

“The bullet entered Mr. Masri’s back, an inch to the left of his spine, lodging in his left lung, missing his heart by a few centimeters.”

Jessica swallowed the bile that worked its way up her throat. “And if it had hit his heart?”

The doctor looked at her sadly. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be waiting at the morgue instead.”

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat.

“We’ve repaired the lung, and his shoulder and back will heal. But we can’t predict what the recovery will look like. He lost a tremendous amount of blood, and I’ll be frank with you, we had to shock him once on the operating table. His heart has suffered a tremendous amount of strain.”

Jessica stood outside the door to Kamal’s room, arms crossed as a chill swept through her from head to toe.

“I’d expect for him to regain consciousness in the next forty-eight hours, but if he doesn’t…”

“Yes, Doctor. If he doesn’t?”

“Then he might not ever. I’m very sorry. I just don’t want to give you false hope. He’s in critical condition.”

“I understand,” she said, because that was what she was supposed to say, not because she’d ever really understand how a perfectly healthy man in the prime of his life could be standing next to her one moment and lying at death’s door the next. She hadn’t understood it six years ago when she’d come to the morgue in this very same hospital to identify John’s dead body, and she didn’t understand it any better now.

“Does Mr. Masri have any family?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, the State Department is working on notifying them.”

“Good. In the absence of family, you or your representative are welcome to stay as long as you want. I always feel that the presence of other people is helpful to patients in recovery.”

“Thank you.” She put her hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath before entering the room.

Everything was darkened inside, the blinds pulled shut, and only the reading light above the head of the bed turned on. Kamal lay bare-chested, covers pulled up to beneath his rib cage. He was covered in wires with sensors taped to his skin. Tubes pushed oxygen into his nose and fluids into his arms.

Jessica walked softly to the chair next to his bed and sat heavily. Her staff had brought over a fresh set of clothes, and she was relieved to be comfortable in her POTUS tracksuit.

She reached out tentatively and touched his hand. When she felt his cool skin under hers, she finally broke. The endless waiting, the fear for his life, the memories of losing John, it had all been trapped inside her for over seven hours, and she had finally reached the breaking point. She wrapped his hand in both of hers, hoping to infuse him with some of her warmth, and then she leaned her head on their joined hands and she cried.

The tears were hot and heavy, and she shed them for everything she’d lost during her life, and for everything she might yet still lose. Because Jessica realized that if she didn’t get that future she and Kamal had only just begun to visualize, she wasn’t sure she could come back from the loss. She’d never really come back from John’s loss. It was always a partial recovery, the distractions of living his life for him and the dulling effects of time working in tandem to give the world the appearance that Jessica Hampton was a fully functioning, strong widow who had moved on and made a brilliant success of her life.

But Kamal had seen, as had Fiona, that she wasn’t whole, and it was only when he’d taken the time to find Jessica that she’d allowed herself to let go of John and consider actually living. Kamal had reintroduced Jessica to herself, and she liked who she was, but also liked who she was with him.

“John, it might seem strange for me to talk to you about this,” she whispered into the quiet room, “but if anyone understands how I’m feeling, it’s you. You’ve been here all these years, watching me go through the motions. You know how much I loved you, and how your death ripped my heart out. That’s why I also hope that you’ve seen what he’s done for me.

“I’ll never forget you, my love, but I want to go on, and he helps me do that. He makes me happy in a way I haven’t been since you left.” She paused and looked up at Kamal’s face, so pale and still on the bed. “I love him, and I need him to survive this.”

The machines beeped, and Jessica leaned down and kissed Kamal’s knuckles, one by one. The door opened so quietly that she didn’t hear it, but the slice of light that speared through the dark alerted her to someone’s presence. She quickly tried to wipe her eyes.

“Madam President?” Derek Ambrose said softly as he approached the bed.

“Derek.” She stood, trying to gather herself and appear presidential again.

“Please,” he said. “No need to get up.”

Maybe it was the commanding tone in his voice, or the fact that she still had ahold of Kamal’s hand, or maybe it was simply her exhaustion, but she complied and sat back down immediately.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I needed to see him with my own eyes.”

“Of course, that’s why I called you. I’m glad you could come.”

“I would have been here sooner, but London and I were on our honeymoon. Luckily, we already had a flight back to New York booked, so we were able to move the date up.”

He paused and stepped closer to the bed, a furrow appearing between his brows. “How is he?”

“He came through the surgery, but barely.” She felt her throat thicken. “They’re saying that if he doesn’t regain consciousness in the next forty-eight hours—”

“He will,” Derek interrupted. She looked up at him, and his voice was vehement as he continued. “He’s one of the strongest, most stubborn men I’ve ever known. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be who I am today. He’s relentless about pushing those he loves to do the very best they can. It’s really what drives him—helping others reach their potential. I don’t know that he’s ever given a damn about his own position except as it gives him the power to help the people he cares about achieve what they can.”

“He gave it all up for me.”

“Yes,” Derek agreed, “he did, and he was happy to do it.” He squatted in front of her. “Ma’am, you’re my president, so I don’t want to overstep, but you need to know how much you mean to him.” He scratched his head awkwardly. “I’m not sure how to say it, but I think he would give up just about anything for you.”

The tears came back, and this time Jessica didn’t even try to hide them. “He saved my life again. He got shot because he stepped between the bullet and me. He might die because of me.”

Derek grabbed her free hand and held it tightly between both of his. “And he would do it all again, even knowing the outcome was this.” He tipped his chin toward the bed. “Please don’t feel badly about this. He wouldn’t want you to spend a moment on guilt. He wants you to be happy, ma’am. Happy and well, and, if possible, with him.”

“That’s all I want as well.”

“Good, then when he wakes up, you can both do that.”

She sniffed and nodded as he stood again.

“Thank you, Derek.”

“Of course. I need to go update some of our other friends who are in the waiting room. Will you let us know the minute anything changes?”

“You’ll be the first.”

“Thank you.” He slipped out the door nearly as quietly as he’d entered, leaving Jessica alone with the man she loved and as much hope as she could gather.

* * *

“Jess, do you really think this is wise?” Fiona asked as she came down the hall at light speed, heels clacking against the tile floors like machine gun fire.

“Nice to see you too, Senator,” Jessica said from where she stood talking to Vanessa outside Kamal’s room. “Thank you, I’ll come down for that teleconference in ten minutes,” she said to Vanessa, who scurried away as Fiona ground to a halt, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re going to set up a mobile office in the hospital? Really?”

Jessica crossed her arms and faced down her defiant friend. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve done.”

“The Senate majority is really concerned about this, Jess. You can’t obtain the secure servers you need for communications here, and if there were a crisis, you’re at least fifteen minutes from the White House.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Fi. I travel to foreign countries several times a year. How far am I from the White House then? Tell your merry band of nervous ninnies that everything is perfectly under control. I’m just down the street, not across the globe.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it,” Fiona corrected quietly.

Jessica walked across the hall and sat down, motioning for Fiona to join her on the bench.

“I know it is, Fi, and I understand their concern, but I’m done caring. I can’t worry about public perception anymore. The man I love sacrificed everything for me, and he’s in a hospital bed…” She swallowed. “And I won’t leave him alone. When he wakes up, I want to be there. I want my face to be the first one he sees. And if, God forbid, he doesn’t make it—I want my voice to be the last one he hears.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t get to be there for John. I’m not going to abandon Kamal when I have the choice to stay.”

Fiona’s face cycled through a range of emotions in mere seconds, then she threw her arms around her friend and squeezed tightly. “Oh, Jess. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I just got an earful from the pro tem and came flying over here. Of course this is where you need to be. How can I help?”

Jessica pulled away, the love her best friend gave warming her from head to toe.

“Thank you. And you can help by getting those old men on the Hill to calm down. The last thing I need right now is their hysteria. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course, I’ll get on it right away.” Fiona stopped and looked toward the door. “How is he?”

“No change. We’re in hour twenty-two. The doctor said forty-eight is a critical point. But forty-eight or seventy-two or five hundred, I’m not giving up on him, Fi.”

Fiona clasped Jessica’s hand. “No, you won’t, and I won’t either. I’m with you, Jess. He will come back to you.”

“Thank you.”

As Fiona clacked back down the hall nearly as rapidly as she’d come, Jessica opened the door to Kamal’s room and walked in slowly.

“You know,” she said as she went to his bed and caressed his face. “You’ve had nearly twenty-four hours to rest up. I think it’s time now to get back in the saddle—that’s one of Fiona’s Texas terms.” She walked to the window with its drawn curtains. “There’s no reason to act as though you’re sick, because you’re not. You’re tired, and your energy is going to healing up that lung, but you are not sick.” She pulled the curtains open, flooding the room with light. Then she returned to Kamal’s bed, where she pressed the button to adjust the bed, sitting him up farther.

“Now, I can’t believe I don’t know what type of music you enjoy. All these months we’ve spent time together, and we’ve never watched a movie or gone to a concert.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, “We’re going to fix that as soon as you heal.”

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and placed it on the tray table next to the bed. “So, you’re just going to have to listen to my playlist. I have to go down the hall for a teleconference, but I’ll ask Peter to sit with you while I’m gone. That way, if you wake up, he’ll get me immediately.” She pressed Play on the phone, and the strains of Meghan Trainor’s “No” filled the room. She leaned down to press one more kiss to his forehead. “I may not know what kind of music you love, but I can guarantee you’ll hate this. Hopefully you’ll hate it enough to wake up.”

“Not a word about the music, Peter,” Jessica said as she passed him in the doorway.

Peter shook his head, grinning. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And get me if he so much as twitches.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Jessica walked down the hall to the room her staff had commandeered. It was filled with laptops, IT equipment, phones, whiteboards, and two secretaries, Vanessa, and a handful of Secret Service agents.

“I’m bringing up the call now, ma’am,” Vanessa said.

“Perfect. We’ll need to clear the room, please.”

The secretaries and Secret Service immediately stopped what they were doing and exited.

“Out of curiosity, where do they go when I kick them out like that?” Jessica asked as she put on the headset she needed for the teleconference.

Vanessa shrugged weakly. “The hallway?”

“Oh dear. That probably gets dull. Maybe we need another room to use. This one for the staff and then a separate one for me to do classified business.”

“Well, ma’am, I was hoping this arrangement wasn’t going to be for more than a day or two. Maybe if it goes past tomorrow afternoon, we can do that?”

“That’s fine, and let’s make sure to get everyone snacks and drinks brought up so that they’re getting some sort of compensation for sitting around in the hallway and working remotely.”

“I think that some of the staff are finding compensation in other ways.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Well, Agent Vasquez and Teresa seem to be forming a friendship of sorts.”

“Annie and Teresa? They don’t seem like… Oh. A friendship?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well then, I’ll toss them out of the room more often. Annie needs someone to lighten her up. I approve.” She winked at Vanessa, who laughed.

“Okay, let’s get this call underway.”

Vanessa clicked on the link, and a room at the White House appeared, the conference table surrounded by military and Homeland Security staff.

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

Rumblings of “Good afternoon, Madam President” replied.

Jessica sat, elbows on the desk, watching the screen carefully. “Tell me about the man who shot at us yesterday.”

“Andre Vorchevsky, and he’s been very helpful.” Throats cleared around the table, and Jessica took a deep breath.

“I assume your methods have stayed within the protocols of the Geneva Convention, Colonel?”

“Absolutely, ma’am. It seems, however, that Mr. Vorchevsky isn’t as loyal to the Bratva as they might have hoped. And when we gave him a choice between spending the remainder of his days at Guantanamo versus Leavenworth, he was especially cooperative.”

“I’m sure,” Jessica drawled. She hated GTMO, but hadn’t yet figured out a way to get buy-in from the military to close it.

“Madam President, Vorchevsky’s given us the name of the previous shooter, as well as confirmed the photo Mr. Masri gave us is legitimate and that President Abbas’s brother was acting on his behalf when he met with the Bratva. Mr. Vorchevsky was present on more than one occasion when the Bratva met with Abbas’s brother. But he said that his orders yesterday came directly from President Abbas himself. He was also able to tell us that the Bratva started negotiations to use the Abbas shipping company to transport the drugs last April.”

“And we have a notification out for the first shooter, I assume?”

“Yes, ma’am. NATO countries have been given all the details on the shooter’s identity, and our covert ops whom you sent to infiltrate the Bratva are ready to hunt this guy from inside the organization. We suspect he’s been underground since the shooting, but now that we know who we’re looking for, we’ll dig him out.”

“Thank you, Colonel. Now, Madam Secretary.” She turned her gaze to the secretary of state. “We need to convey this latest information to the prime minister in Egypt. Can we get them to agree to give us jurisdiction to arrest Abbas and bring him here for trial?”

The secretary of state looked at Jessica and rolled her eyes. “Madam President,” she began in her strong New England accent. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

She smiled at her through the monitor. “I do, but why not begin on an ambitious note?”

“Getting back to reality, ma’am—”

Jessica laughed quietly. She loved to irritate her secretary of state.

“The Egyptian prime minister has been waiting for our call since the shooting yesterday. We never got a chance to give him the photograph of the Bratva with Abbas’s brother, but it’s just as well, because we have a lot more to give him now.”

“Tell me your plan.”

“I will present the information to the prime minister with the request that Abbas be suspended from power immediately while the Egyptians conduct their own investigation. I will also request that the assets of Abbas Shipping be frozen and the president’s brother have his passport revoked for the time being.”

Jessica sighed. She could only hope that all this didn’t send Egypt into a power struggle and riots in the streets. She really could use Kamal’s advice right now. But she’d have to rely on the expertise of her staff and hope for the best, while preparing for the worst.

“And the military?” she asked.

“We have extra troops already en route to the region, ma’am,” the general answered.

“And the embassy has double protection, and we’ll send out a notice of enhanced security suggestions to all Americans living and traveling in Egypt,” the secretary of state added.

“Okay. Thank you, everyone. I hope to be back at the White House tomorrow, but please keep me informed via Vanessa of hourly updates in this.”

Everyone in the room began gathering their materials, but just as Jessica’s finger hovered over the Disconnect button, Vanessa stopped her.

“Ma’am. Colonel Thibadeux would like a word after the room is cleared.”

“Of course.” She waited until Jeff was alone at the conference table.

“Madam President,” he said. “How is he?”

“The same.” She didn’t know what else to say and didn’t honestly have the energy to add anything anyway.

“May I see him later this evening?”

“Of course, Colonel. Mr. Ambrose has been by twice, and Mr. Roberts as well. Any friends of Kamal’s are welcome. I think all of you will help him recover.”

“Thank you.” The colonel seemed overcome for a moment, then he cleared his throat and continued. “I need to admit to you, ma’am, that I was not encouraging when I found out about your relationship with Kamal.”

Jessica huffed out a bitter laugh. “I wasn’t aware you did know.”

“Peter is a good friend of mine, ma’am. He was initially concerned about Kamal’s trustworthiness, so he came to me to vet him.”

“I see. I guess my Secret Service agents aren’t as confidential as I’ve been led to believe.”

“He was trying to do his best job, I think.”

“Mmhm.”

Jeff scratched his head, obviously realizing he’d just thrown his friend under the bus.

“Relax, Colonel. I won’t come down on Peter.”

“Thank you. I just wanted you to know that I was concerned about the relationship from every angle, but I’ve watched both of you over the last few months, and I have to tell you that I hope things work out for you.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessica truly hoped things would work out for them too, because if they didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could keep going.

* * *

Jessica jolted upright, slamming her elbow into the arm of the chair she was sleeping in. There was an alarm shrieking and chimes that wouldn’t stop. Her heart raced as she gained consciousness, remembering where she was.

Her eyes popped open, seeking Kamal’s prone figure in the darkened room. His monitors were making the racket, and the first place Jessica’s gaze landed was on the steady green line that traveled across the biggest screen next to his bed.

“Kamal?” She grabbed his shoulders and gave him a small shake. “Kamal! No! No, no no. Help!” she screamed, still shaking him, touching his face, his neck, feeling for a pulse.

The Secret Service blasted through the door, medical staff hot on their heels. “Get the president out of here!” yelled Peter as he pushed past Kamal’s bed and looked at every nook and cranny of the hospital room and adjoining bathroom.

“No!” Jessica screamed as other agents began to pull her from the room. The doctors and nurses ripped the sensors and wires from Kamal’s body and put him flat on his back, bedcovers torn away. And then they were giving him chest compressions, and she knew that he was going to die. He was going to die and leave her, just as John had, and her world would never be the same again.

She struggled and sobbed, but the Secret Service were trained, and they were strong, and there were two of them, and in seconds, she was standing in the hallway, an agent on either side of her, holding her steady while she dipped her chin to her chest and sobbed.

“Why don’t you sit down, ma’am,” said Agent Vasquez, leading Jessica to the bench in the hall where she’d sat with Fiona only hours ago.

Jessica sat, wrapping her arms around her middle, struggling to control the tears that just wouldn’t fucking stop.

Agent Vasquez put a tentative hand on her back, patting and rubbing in succession. “Keep the faith, ma’am. He’s a strong, healthy man. He’s got the best medical care in the country.”

Jessica looked at her, giving her a grim smile. “Trust me, that can’t fix some wounds.”

* * *

It was fifteen minutes—fifteen excruciating, soul-crushing, heart-wrenching minutes before one of the doctors came out of the room, looking exhausted and grim.

Jessica put a hand over her mouth to restrain the cries of anguish that waited there.

“Madam President,” the doctor said as she walked to Jessica.

“Is he…?”

“Mr. Masri’s heart stopped, but we have a steady rhythm again, although it wasn’t easy to get, and I’m not sure how long it will last.”

“What does that mean?”

The doctor sighed. “It appears that he’s developed an infection in the sac around his heart. Fluid had built up and was putting pressure on the heart. We inserted a needle and drained the fluid. Now we’ve put him on some very high-powered antibiotics, but I can’t promise they’ll work fast enough.”

Jessica’s voice was as rough as sandpaper when she spoke back. “And if they don’t?”

The doctor looked at her with sad eyes. “Then the fluid builds back up again, and it becomes more and more difficult to treat. The pressure from the fluids and the procedure to drain them all put strain on his heart that’s already weak. Our options diminish from this point on.”

Jessica nodded as the doctor turned and made her way down the hall. She collapsed back into the seat next to Agent Vasquez.

“Ma’am? Madam President.” Vanessa came jogging down the hall dressed in sweats and tennis shoes. “I’m so sorry, I was in a vacant room on the other side of the building. Peter texted me. I came as fast as I could.”

Jessica nodded, and Agent Vasquez slipped away, Vanessa taking her place.

“Tell me what’s happening,” Vanessa said gently.

Jessica had to clear her throat before she could speak. “He has an infection in his heart. Or around his heart, I guess. They’ve put him on the antibiotics that can help, but they don’t know.” She looked at her chief of staff, who she realized embarrassingly late was also her friend. “If that doesn’t work, there isn’t much else they can do.”

Vanessa said, her face scrunching in an effort to fight the tears, “You can’t stop believing—hoping. You have to help him fight.”

Jessica nodded. “I never had the chance to fight for John.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s why I went on to live his dreams for him. I felt so guilty that I wasn’t able to fight for him any other way.”

“This isn’t the same,” Vanessa said softly.

“No, it’s not. So this is my chance, and I’d better use it wisely, hadn’t I?”

And that was when Jessica knew what had to be done. “Will you please set up a press conference for first thing in the morning?”

“Of course. What will the briefing be on? I’ll get the press secretary on the line right now so he can prepare.”

Jessica shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be the only one talking. It will be brief, no more than ten minutes. I won’t be taking questions, only making a statement.”

Vanessa’s eyes grew wide. “Um, no hint at all what we should be prepared for?”

Jessica wiped her eyes, banishing the last of the tears. “No. There’s nothing you can do to prepare for this, and it can’t be spun. Just set it up and relax. You’ve done your job, all of you. Now it’s time for me to do mine.”