Chapter Seven

Elizabeth

"The Russians still aren't backing down, ma'am." The elevator door opened on the seventh floor to reveal Jay, Kat, Blake and—more concerningly—Daisy. Whoever said 'No news is good news' certainly knew what they were talking about.

Elizabeth took the coffee cup from Blake and cradled it in both hands; the warmth that seeped through the paper was welcome after the chill outside. She looked to Jay. "When you say they're not backing down…"

Kat tapped the screen of her tablet and thrust it in front of Elizabeth as they strode through the corridors towards her office. "Glasses," Elizabeth said to herself, and she passed the coffee back to Blake whilst she rooted around in her bag. She pushed the frames up the bridge of her nose and took the tablet from Kat. Their procession continued.

On screen, President Salnikov's gesticulations were wilder than ever. He made a person fighting off a swarm of killer bees look positively serene. Even the smiles of the mannequin presenters faltered a little as he launched into a particularly ferocious tirade, and the two blondes shrank back from their desk. Elizabeth handed the tablet back to Kat and pushed her glasses down a fraction so that she could pinch her eyes. Why couldn't this all just be some kind of bad dream? Perhaps Henry's Kafka references weren't so obscure after all.

"Salnikov is now claiming that our embassy in Moscow is rife with American operatives under diplomatic covers," Jay said, as they entered her office.

"So, projecting then?" Elizabeth shrugged off her coat and scarf, and Blake whisked them away before she had even realised he was at her side. She retreated to her desk and leant against the edge, whilst Kat and Daisy took the seats in front of her and Jay hovered behind them. "Do we have any operatives at the embassy? Do we need to think about getting them out?"

"I'll liaise with the CIA," Jay said. He tapped his fingers against the back of clipboard that he clutched in his hands, then turned and strode towards the door.

Elizabeth called after him. "And if they start getting awkward, kick them over to me."

Jay gave a slight bow. "Yes, ma'am."

"Kat," Elizabeth said, and Kat sat up a little straighter, like a student called upon in class, "have you drawn up that list of sanctions? I think it's time that I spoke to Minister Avdonin."

"Ma'am." Daisy held up one finger. A startled expression had leapt to her face. "If I may…" Elizabeth nodded. "Whilst I understand that it's important that we're not seen to be neglecting this issue, it would be remiss of me not to advise you against provoking the Russians."

Elizabeth's head swam with the tortuous phrasing and abundance of negatives. Even Kat had shot Daisy a skeptical look. Elizabeth raised her hand before Daisy could continue leading them through the forest of words. "Spit it out, Daisy."

"I…uh…It's just…" Daisy smoothed down the hem of her dress, then clung to her knees. "Salnikov has already made this issue personal, that much is clear from his chat show, and I'm concerned that if we impose sanctions, he might make it even more…personal." Daisy's eyes bugged at the final word.

The photos. So Daisy thought the Russians might be behind it too. Elizabeth rocked back onto her heels, her gaze fixed on the floor. But if it was the Russians, why hadn't they released the photos already? It wasn't like them to show restraint. Even if Salnikov didn't have the balls to release them himself, the GRU could easily disseminate the pictures to the American press and the media would do the job for him. Be careful over this thing with the embassy, won't you? Henry's words looped through her mind, and the promise she had made him. This wasn't just her career; it was his reputation, his life.

"Ma'am?" Kat said. Elizabeth looked up to see their expectant, and slightly concerned, faces. How long had she been silent for?

"Blake," Elizabeth said, "set up the call with Minister Avdonin." Then she nodded at Daisy. "We'll hold off on the sanctions for now."

"Minister Avdonin." Elizabeth leant back in her chair as she addressed the screen.

Minister Avdonin sat a little too close to the camera, and he shifted in his seat as he spoke to her. "Madam Secretary. I have a very busy schedule—"

"Then let's get straight to the point." She steepled her hands. "Your closure of our embassy is unwarranted. Spies? Seriously?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Couldn't President Salnikov come up with something more original?"

"You closed down our consulate."

Elizabeth's tone sharpened. "Because you were using it as a base for intelligence operations." She let out a sharp breath. When Alison and Jason bickered, they sounded less childish than Avdonin did right now. "Look, we've gone through this countless times, and I'm getting fed up of having the same old conversation, so what's it going to take to get Salnikov to back down?" She leant forward now, her eyes trained on his expression.

Avdonin's gaze darted away from the camera, sweeping over his surroundings before returning to her. He edged forward in his seat and leant his elbows against his desk. "Off the record?" One eyebrow arched.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Sure."

He rocked back in his chair again, his shoulders opening up as his hands fell to the armrests. He looked like he had doubts about whatever it was that he was about to say, but he continued anyway, his words considered. "He needs to prove to the generals that he's strong. The closure of the consulate made him look weak."

"And attacking me every night on his chat show isn't quite cutting it?" Elizabeth said. Avdonin's mouth puckered at that, a flash of disapproval.

"The people want action," Avdonin said, every word heavy with emphasis. "The generals want action. By going on and on about it, he's made his own noose."

"Then how do we talk him down?"

Avdonin leant in towards the camera, the words clear on his lips. "Reopen the consulate."

"I can't do that," Elizabeth said, and she shook her head, "not when it's a risk to national security."

Avdonin's gaze flitted away, and a silence stretched between them. It was almost at breaking point when he looked to her again. "What if I could ensure it wasn't?" His voice was softer now, as if worried that the ears had walls, which perhaps wasn't such an unreasonable concern.

"I would have a hard time believing that," Elizabeth said.

Avdonin picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk, his gaze following its rise and fall. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. "What if I granted you access to monitor the consulate? This would be strictly confidential, of course. As far as the public are aware, everything is operating as normal."

A smile threatened to tug at Elizabeth's lips, but she crushed it and kept her face neutral. "I might be able to work with that."

"Good." The pen stilled, and Avdonin's finger hovered over the keyboard. "You'll speak to your people and let me know?"

He was about to hit end on the call, but Elizabeth held one hand up, and he paused. "Konstantin," she said, and she steeled her gaze on him, ready to catch the barest flicker of a reaction, "you know that anyone else in my position would have sanctioned you back to the Stone Age by now." Hell, she would have if it weren't for the photos hanging over her.

Avdonin frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Someone has made a threat against my family."

"Well, it wasn't Russia." And there wasn't so much as a stutter in either his voice or his expression. "We don't make threats."

No, you just carry them out. She nodded. "Good day, Konstantin."

"Goodbye, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth leant her elbows against the desk and pinched her mouth. Either Avdonin hadn't been read in on this nugget of kompromat, or it truly wasn't the Russians. But if not them, who?

"I'm home," Elizabeth shouted. Voices and laughter drifted through the house, along with the smell of hot oil and the sizzle of food frying. Stevie was stood at the hob, tossing vegetables in the wok, whilst Alison and Jason were strewn across the couches in the den. Some gameshow flashed in the background. With lurid lights and a buzzer blaring every few seconds, it still had more taste than Salnikov's talk show.

Stevie smiled up at her. "Hey."

"Hey, baby," Elizabeth said, and she leant over the pan. "That smells good." And her stomach grumbled. Tofu, fake meat; she didn't care.

"It'll be ready in five."

Elizabeth peered around the room, and then through to the dining room. All the lights were switched off and the rest of the house had already succumbed to the darkness that leached in from the evening outside.

Stevie caught her eye. She pursed her lips, then nodded to the stairs. "He's up there."

Elizabeth smiled. Was she that obvious? "Is he allowed a plate?"

Stevie shrugged. "I don't want any wasted."

How gracious. "Thank you." She touched Stevie's elbow as she squeezed past and headed for the stairs.

She leant in the doorway of their bedroom. Henry was sat on the bed, his back against the headboard, a book open in one hand. The television screen was on—the news—but the volume was at barely a whisper. "Hey, you," she said, and Henry's gaze darted up.

"Hey." He smiled back at her and placed his book down on the bed. "The kids needed to get out of their rooms—" she was surprised they weren't pacing like caged animals "—and since they can't stand the sight of me, I thought they'd be more comfortable if I stayed up here."

He was trying to make light of it, but the hurt was clear in his eyes. Elizabeth's smile faded a little, and her chest ached for him. "You don't have to do that." She shook her head. "You shouldn't have to sit up here on your own."

"I'm fine, babe." He forced his smile a little wider. Then he nodded to the television. "I saw the news about the consulate." He paused a beat. His expression sobered. "They didn't threaten you, did they?"

"No." Elizabeth's gaze dipped to the floor. Should she tell him that she didn't think it was the Russians, or would that only add to his worries? Better the devil you know. She met his eye again. "They were looking for a way to back down, so we came to an agreement." She stretched out her hand to him. "Come get some dinner? Stevie very kindly said that you can have some."

"Is it poisoned?" He paused a beat, then flashed her a smile. "I'm fine up here—" she opened her mouth to protest, but he continued "—really, babe; I don't want to make things awkward."

"Then I'll stay up here with you." She eased away from the door and took a step closer to the bed. But stopped when Henry waved her back.

"Go spend time with the kids. I can tell you miss them, and God knows they could use someone to talk to."

And she did miss them; missed the time they spent together as a family. She hesitated. "You sure?" Henry nodded. "Okay then." She strode the rest of the way to the bed, then with her hand resting over his heart, she leant in and kissed him. She drew back just enough that she could look into his eyes. "But if you're up for dessert later…"

"There's ice cream—" he began, but then she bit her bottom lip, and his eye widened, pupils blown. "Oh." His throat bobbed. "I could definitely go for some dessert."

"Good," she said, and she pinged the collar of his tee. "I'll see you in a bit."