President Clay sat down on the edge of his desk. He rubbed at his chin. “Well, Nick. You are full of surprises.”
“He trusts me.” That was a lie of epic proportions; he’d betrayed Epstein. Cooper had agreed to kill John Smith, and instead he’d not only spared him, he’d unwittingly served Smith’s agenda. Because of Cooper’s decisions, the New Canaan Holdfast was in greater danger than ever before, and there was nothing in the world that Epstein cared about more than his little realm in the desert.
Still, not much mileage in them knowing the world’s richest man is pissed at you. “Let’s reach out to him. Ask him to join us in calming the nation.”
Leahy said, “What possible good would that—”
“It would reframe the discussion. In the 1960s, the government legitimized Dr. King’s movement by bringing him into the discussion. That put radicals like Malcolm X and Huey Newton on the outside. Suddenly it wasn’t blacks against whites, it was pacifism against violence. You were a history professor, sir. You know that this has to be the way.”
Clay stared at the Christmas tree, a Victorian mess of bows and baubles.
Marla Keevers said, “Something else it does.” She turned to the president. “It gives us a target.”
Cooper said, “What?”
“We don’t have any way to reach the Children of Darwin. But if we were to work with Epstein and the NCH, to offer them support on the condition that terrorism cease . . .” She shrugged. “It’s a win-win. Either they get the situation under control, or we have legitimate reason to strike the stronghold of abnorm power.”
“Wait, that’s not what I—”
Clay stood up. “All right. Nick, pack your bags. You’re going to New Canaan as our ambassador. Convince Epstein to join us, help stop these attacks, and return our cities to us.”
“Sir, I’m not a diplomat. I don’t know the first thing—”
“You know Erik Epstein. He trusts you.”
“I—yes, sir.” Cooper felt dizzy.
Clay moved around the other side of the desk. “Meanwhile, Owen, make the troop deployments. Bring nonessential military home, and reinforce all domestic bases. And just in case, prepare a plan for concerted military action against New Canaan Holdfast.”
“Sir, what about the Monitoring Oversight Initiative? We should still move that—”
“We’re going to try this way first.”
Leahy started to argue, caught himself, and swallowed the words with a visible effort. He shot a look of purest poison in Cooper’s direction. “Yes, sir.”
Clay turned to him. “It’s on you now, Nick. You had better succeed.”
The president was too gentle a man to add the unspoken next sentence, but in Cooper’s head, Drew Peters’s voice finished it for him.
Because if you don’t, the world will burn.
CHAPTER 18
“So now you’re supposed to save the day?”
Natalie had an unsarcastic way of saying things that made the bald fact of the statement itself seem ridiculous. Usually Cooper enjoyed it, but after standing in the Oval Office watching a city burn while the president sat idle, it irked.
“It’s not like that. It’s not me against everybody. I’m just . . .”
“Putting on a cape and flying in?” She stacked dirty plates, piling silverware atop. The smell of turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce made his empty stomach tighten.
“Trying to do what you said. I’m trying to fix it.”
She turned and walked for the kitchen, and he followed. “Oh, Nick,” she said over her shoulder. “No pressure, huh?”
“Look, I’m not asking you for anything. I’ll handle it by myself.”
“You’re kind of proving my point, hon.”
“Natalie . . .”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll come by in the morning to say good-bye to the kids. I figured I would—”
Natalie set down the plates with a thump. “Tomorrow.”
“Yes. I figured I’d make pancakes—where are you going?”
She didn’t answer, just left the kitchen, went through the dining room, and opened the hall closet. Stretching, she pulled down a suitcase.
“Natalie?”
She ignored him, just slung the suitcase and climbed the stairs. At a loss, he followed.
The bedroom had once been theirs, a place they’d read books and made love and talked about the kids. But since the divorce, he’d been in it only once, to help her move a dresser. She’d shuffled and redealt the space, putting the bed under the windows and repainting. His ex-wife had the suitcase open on the bed and was piling clothes beside it.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Look, that’s sweet, but I’m going alone.”
“Like hell you are.” She spoke mildly, but as a woman who rarely swore, her word choice had power.
“Natalie—”
“Nick, be quiet.” She turned to look at him. He could see her wanting to cross her arms, see her making the choice not to. “Tonight was Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Hey, look, I’m sorry I missed it, but it’s not like I was drinking at a bar. My job—”
“I know,” she said. “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m proud of you. I’m just saying, tonight was Thanksgiving, and you couldn’t be here. That’s one less Thanksgiving Todd and Kate will have with you.”
He hadn’t thought about it in those terms. Cooper leaned against the wall.
“The last time you went away you were gone for six months,” Natalie continued. “I know it was for the best possible reason, but the kids are just now getting used to having you back in their lives. They deserve not to have their dad vanish again. And you deserve to get to be a father.”
“You know I want that.”
“I do,” she said. “That’s why we’re coming with you. This is something we can do. You’re not going undercover to kill someone. You’re the ambassador for the president of the United States. That means that there will be protection. It will be as safe as anywhere else is right now. Plus, it will be good for the kids. Kate will get to be in a place where she doesn’t feel different than everyone else. And Todd will experience the other side of things, to see that the world is bigger than the schoolyard. We’re coming with you.”
Cooper knew his ex-wife. She was kind and smart and gentle, and her words were more aligned with her intent than most anyone he’d ever met.
She was also as moveable as the Rock of Gibraltar when she set her mind to something. No argument, no stormy sentiment, no tidal pull could shake her. Short of cold-cocking her, there was no way to make her stay.
“People ask too much of you. Your father, the army, Drew Peters, now the president. Even me. You don’t always have to be the lone wolf. It will be good for the kids to see their dad trying to save the world. It will be good for us as a family.”
There was a slight emphasis on the last word, a tiny inflection that most people might have missed. One with a world of possibility behind it. He remembered sitting inside the fort they’d built in the living room when Natalie had kissed him. That hadn’t been a friendly peck. It had been . . . well, maybe not a declaration of intent, but certainly a statement of possibility.
When it had been good, their marriage had been very good. And he’d always been proud that when it stopped working, they had both recognized it. Had been able to acknowledge that though they loved each other, they were no longer right together, and they’d been able to part without rancor. He loved her, always would. But there was love and there was being in love.
Has something changed for her?
It was odd to think that the things he had done in the last year might actually have drawn her closer to him. They had been apart most of that time, and there had been the horrifying night that Drew Peters had kidnapped her and the kids. On paper, it should have pushed her away.