enemies of the state by Tal Bauer

with himself over, later. Later, he’d be upset. Now, he’d take this. He’d drink this moment in and then lock it away, burying it and these feelings in the ice flows of his soul.
    “You’re up late.” Jack held Ethan’s gaze, still looking up at him from his upside down slouch against the back of the couch.
    “As are you.”
    “President’s prerogative. No bedtime.” Jack winked up at Ethan.
    Chuckling once, Ethan stepped to the side and crouched down, crossing his arms over the back of the couch and laying his chin across his wrists. He was suddenly on the same level as Jack, bare inches from the warmth of his skin. Jack’s scent—warm vanilla and pine—teased Ethan’s brain. God, why did he have to smell like pine? Was it just the place, Camp David suffusing everything and everyone? Or did Jack truly smell like a slice of Ethan’s heaven on earth?
    “Can I ask you something?” Jack rolled his head, leaning sideways and staring right into Ethan’s eyes. He tucked one hand around his knee, canted his head, and waited.
    Guilt-tongue was back, flooding Ethan with shame. Heat burned through him, searing the inside of his skin. Here it comes . Castigation, repudiation, demotion. Inhaling, Ethan nodded once, trying to steal himself for the blow. His eyes caressed Jack’s face one last time, trying to hold on to the beauty before the moment was shattered.
    “What do you think about China?”
    Ethan blinked. He didn’t breathe, simply stared at Jack. He blinked again. “Excuse me?” he finally grunted.
    Jack pushed up from his slouch with a groan, dragging himself to the edge of the sofa, where he leaned his forearms on his knees and jerked his chin at the piles of paper spread before him. “China. Their whole mess, and the nightmare we’ve got going on between them and Taiwan, courtesy of my predecessor.” Jack shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “When China invaded Taiwan eighteen months ago, my predecessor had drawn the US military down to such a level that we couldn’t respond to help Taiwan without opening ourselves up somewhere else. And with the bombings all across Europe and the constant threats on the homeland, no one in Congress was willing to authorize a military mission to Taiwan. China took Taiwan without so much as a peep from us.” Jack shot Ethan a rueful shrug. “So much for us being a strong partner and ally.”
    “They invaded because of the Islamic Caliphate attack on the capital. The one that destroyed the POB in Taipei.” Ethan remembered the frantic energy of that day, and the distraught look of failure that haunted the former president’s eyes. He’d known, that day, that he was done. He couldn’t respond to an ally, couldn’t answer China’s invasion—shrouded in an aid mission to help the attacked Taiwan—and couldn’t fight back from the damage that did to his presidency. It had been like watching a wounded gazelle get stalked on the savannah by fourteen different kinds of predators.
    “Exactly.” Jack leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and slouching his neck into the couch cushions. His back was straight, his stomach flat, and he looked almost like he was doing a plank. Ethan tore his eyes away from the firm stretch of his shirt across his stomach. His memories betrayed him, calling up flashes of skin he’d spied when Jack had wiped his face with the edge of his shirt, revealing his tanned stomach and lightly furred skin.
    Ethan’s fingernails dug into his palms.
    “I’ve been reviewing the intelligence on the attack. The Islamic Caliphate hasn’t been able to get any foothold in Asia, despite their best efforts. China has been ruthless with any hint of Islamic Caliphate activity. No religious freedom of expression there.”
    Whatever Ethan had expected when he walked into the den, chatting with the president about the United States’s tangled foreign policy with China and Taiwan wasn’t it. He slowly stood, pushing himself up,