Young ran his hand along the leather seat and shook his head. “From the looks of things, I don’t think your bottom line has been affected much.”
“Not at all,” Sinclair said. “Since Kitty left, I’ve been far more productive and have managed to find time for profitable projects that were merely untouched ideas. It’s amazing how women can hold you back.”
Young bristled at the comment but didn’t say anything. He loved Madeline and never saw her high maintenance ways as a hindrance to his ability to perform at a high level. Without her, he felt his motivation waning. But he wasn’t interested in quarreling with Sinclair over his views on women, especially considering that Sinclair promised to demonstrate a new piece of technology that could be vital as it pertained to keeping Americans safe.
“So, when are we going to leave port?” Young asked in an effort to change topics.
“Soon, I hope,” Sinclair said, ushering Young below deck. “We’re still waiting on some more participants for this demonstration, but they should be here any minute now.”
Young furrowed his brow. “Other participants?”
“Oh, yes, that must’ve slipped my mind,” Sinclair said as he shut the door behind him. “I’m a businessman. You didn’t think you were the only government I’m courting with this technology, did you?”
Young narrowed his eyes. “Who else is joining us?”
Sinclair winked. “Don't worry. You'll get along just fine with this gentleman. In fact, I think the two of you might have more in common than you think.”
“Who is it?” Young asked, his tone measured and firm.
A knock at the door delayed Sinclair’s response. “Why don’t I just show him to you?” Sinclair asked as he strode across the room. He tugged on the handle of the door and opened it, revealing one of the guests Sinclair was referring to.
Young stared slack-jawed at the man for a moment before speaking. “You must be joking.”
Standing at the door with a glass tumbler in his hand was Russian president Dmitry Karelin. He scowled and glared at the US president before turning his attention toward Sinclair.
“You didn’t mention that he would be here,” Karelin said, pointing at Young as he entered the room.
The door slammed behind him as the engines whined. With the ship lurching forward, Young reached for the back of a nearby chair to steady himself. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, he moved toward Sinclair.
“What kind of sick joke is this?” Young asked.
“I can assure you, Mr. President, this is no joke,” Sinclair said. “I’m all business, particularly when it comes to these sorts of demonstrations.”
Young edged closer to Sinclair, getting within inches as the two men went nose to nose. “Where are we going?”
“Calm down,” Sinclair said as he backed away. “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I have no intention of bringing any harm to either of you while aboard this ship. Both of your security details are with us, and it’d be lunacy to do anything other than endear myself to you.”
“Springing Karelin on me does nothing of the sort,” Young said. “In fact, a move like that does quite the opposite.”
Sinclair wagged his finger at Young. “You Americans are the absolute worst at making hasty judgments. Why don’t you inquire about all the facts of this endeavor before casting judgments and storming off with your empty threats? You know good and well that if anything I have will benefit your country, you’ll be begging for it.”
Karelin smirked at Young and shook his head. “Mr. President, this is exactly why you don’t understand the finer points of diplomacy.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Young said with a sneer. “Bulldozing your way around Eastern Europe seems to lack the subtle nuances of negotiations.”
“There’s a time to deal and a time to fight,” Karelin said. “And right now is a time to listen.”
“Did you know I’d be here?” Young asked.
“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with Mr. Sinclair. He’s always sure to surprise with whatever he’s doing.”
“I’m not fond of this type of surprise,” Young snapped.
“Gentlemen, everything will be made clear in due time,” Sinclair said. “In the meantime, have a drink from my bar over here and relax. We have about a twelve-hour voyage ahead of us.”
“Where are we going?” Young asked.
“That, too, is a surprise, but you’ll find out soon enough,” Sinclair answered with a wink.
* * *
AFTER SETTLING INTO his cabin on Sinclair’s yacht, Young and his Secret Service agents discussed how they would handle the situation, now full of unknowns. The leader of the security detail recommended that they get a helicopter to get him off the boat as soon as possible, an idea that Young wasn’t totally opposed to. But he didn’t want any new technology that Sinclair was peddling to fall into the hands of the Russians without at least knowing what it was capable of doing. After bandying about several ideas, the consensus was that if Young must stay, the team must be vigilant and not allow the president into any room without first sweeping it. Young agreed to the terms, though he wasn’t entirely sure he would abide by them.
Young passed the time by reading over secured documents on his laptop and writing up proposals for several new initiatives he wanted Congress to address in the coming year. It was busy work to keep his mind off the endless possibilities of what Falcon Sinclair was about to demonstrate for both him and Karelin—or, for that matter, where they were going. Young had studied a map for hours on the flight to Kuala Lumpur and couldn’t for the life of him pinpoint a location.
Young took a short nap and awoke to a knock on the door from one his Secret Service agents. “Sir, Mr. Sinclair is here to see you.”
Young rolled
