Ripple Effect

Chapter Fifty-Nine: ...laces.

"When the White House find out..."

"I take full responsibility."

"I'd still prefer it if you'd turn back."

"I know you would." She pivoted towards him, and as a lilting breeze swept over them and swished through the branches of the birch trees, she curled her fists even tighter. "But we've gone through this, like, a thousand times. Even if someone does tip off Kostov, it's not like he's going to show up tonight. And you've got guys on the gate, and God knows how many contingency plans."

Matt still looked far from convinced, and if it were possible, his frown had deepened.

"I'll be fine." Her voice evaporated into the night along with the fog of her breath.

"With all due respect, ma'am—" Matt cast her a sideways glance. "—I'll be glad when I can hand your protection over to the Secret Service."

A smile sprang to her lips. "Come on. I can't be that bad."

Matt shot her a look, one that told her that no matter how bad she thought herself to be, it couldn't come close to his assessment.

"Well, at least I'm not dull."

"My job is to keep you alive, ma'am. Dull is good." Matt strode away from her until he was in line with the agent at the front, whilst the other two agents settled back, so that she was held secure at the centre of their cage with none of them ever more than three long paces away.

That was Matt's job: to worry about every possible outcome so that she didn't have to. And that way, she could focus on her job: putting a stop to Kostov so that when she did finally leave the clinic, she wouldn't have to spend every minute of every hour of every day wondering if DS would be able to keep her family safe.

With Avdonin and his men only six strides away, she stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and her thumb instinctively found the patch of skin left exposed without her wedding ring. She nudged the ghost of the ring around and around, whilst the prickle at the pit of her stomach—as sharp as the pinpricks of drizzle in the air—reminded her that Henry probably wouldn't have been too keen on this plan either.

But that wouldn't have stopped the old Elizabeth, and tonight that's who she needed to be. Old Elizabeth. Who she was before this whole nightmare began.

"Madam Secretary." Minister Avdonin stood with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his black overcoat.

"Minister Avdonin, thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Elizabeth came to a stop a stride away, and her DS agents fell away to the sides.

"So, this is where you've been hiding." He nodded towards the clinic grounds, though his gaze remained locked on her own for a moment. But then it drifted down to her sneakers, and he stared at them as the seconds frittered away like dandelion seeds lost on the breeze. The crease in his brow deepened. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were wide. "They've taken away your laces."

A cringe shivered through Elizabeth, but she fought to keep it from her expression. Instead, it surfaced as a somewhat awkward smile. "They have."

"That bad?"

She shrugged. "House rules."

He continued to stare at her. The whites of his eyes gleamed all that much brighter with the darkness that hung in the air, and with the look that he gave her, it felt as though he were weighing her words against what he knew of her and against the truth.

The flinch of his lips said that she lost.

"We all have our problems." He nodded towards the path behind her. "Shall we?"