“You think she’ll ask Saqqez, the deputy prime minister?”
“I hope not. He’s taken too many trips to Moscow to suit me.”
Martindale nodded knowingly. “I knew you were keeping tabs on this stuff,” he said. “Speaking of Moscow — what do you think about that replacement for Zevitin, Igor Truznyev, the former FSB chief?”
“He’s a bloodthirsty goon,” Patrick said. “He’s doing a quiet little purge out there. The word is Hedrov will be next to be ‘reassigned’ to Siberia.”
Martindale smiled and nodded. “Even I haven’t heard that one yet, Patrick!” he said excitedly. “Thanks for the tip. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it, sir.”
“Too bad about Zevitin, huh?” Martindale commented. “Unfortunate skiing accident, they said. That tree jumped out from nowhere and nearly took his head off, I hear. Poor bastard. Have you heard anything else about that?” Patrick had no comment. “Funny about that happening right around the same time Buzhazi attacks Mashhad and you come back from Armstrong all of a sudden. I guess strange things do happen in threes, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yeah. Sure they do.” Martindale put an arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “You see, my friend, you can’t leave the biz behind,” he said. “It’s in your blood. I can name a couple hundred hot spots in the world and you’ll tell me something interesting about each one.”
“Sir, I’m not interested in—”
“Mongolia,” Martindale interjected. He smiled when he saw Patrick’s eyes light up. “Aha, you know something. What is it?”
“I heard General Dorjiyn will be replaced as chief of staff because he’s too chummy with the United States,” Patrick said.
“So now he can run for president, right?”
“No, because he was born in Inner Mongolia — China — and proclaimed his allegiance to Beijing as a young officer,” Patrick said. “But his son will run.”
Martindale slapped his hands together. “Damn, I forgot about Myren Dorjiyn…!”
“Muren.”
“Muren. Right. He graduated from Berkeley two years ago with a master’s degree, right?”
“Double doctorate. Economics and government.”
Martindale nodded, pleased that Patrick passed the two little tests he had given him. “See? I knew you were keeping up on this stuff!” Martindale exclaimed happily. “Come on back, Patrick. Let’s join forces again. We’ll set this world on fire.”
Patrick smiled, then looked out at his son fishing and said, “I’ll see you around, Mr. President,” and walked out to join his son in the warm spring morning.
Thanks to fellow author Debbie Macomber and her husband, Wayne, for their generosity.
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About the Author
DALE BROWN is the author of numerous
