Rapp had resisted the shift to farming but was now glad he’d lost that particular battle. Coleman was at his happiest when he was screwing with plants and livestock. Except maybe for when he was perched on top of the tractor he’d had airbrushed with ghost flames and skulls.

Even better, it gave some of Rapp’s retired neighbors a reason to get out of bed in the morning—particularly when Coleman was out on an op. And, selfishly, it made the subdivision even more self-sufficient. Something that would have come in handy if he hadn’t been able to get America’s lights back on.

Rapp finally turned into a yard strewn with toys and sports equipment. Mike Nash appeared in the front door of the house a moment later holding a couple of go-cups and a file folder.

“That’s an upgrade!” he said, nodding in Rapp’s direction. “Claudia finally shit-canned that suit you got at Kmart, huh?”

It hadn’t actually been Kmart, but there was no point in splitting hairs. And that was exactly what she’d done—with an appropriate ceremony and exaggerated expression of disgust. He tended to own precisely two suits: one winter, one summer. And while that number hadn’t changed, the quality of the merchandise definitely had.

“Maggie told me we have to take the kidmobile,” Nash said, offering Rapp one of the cups before heading toward a minivan parked in front of the garage. Rapp climbed in the other side, sweeping a baseball mitt from the seat before settling in.

“You ready for this, Mitch?”

Rapp looked out the window, catching his reflection in it. His beard had grown back in and his shoulder-length hair was neatly combed for the occasion. Most striking, though, was the strange pallor to his skin. The lack of Middle Eastern operations over the last six months had kept him out of the desert sun and Claudia was quite the sunscreen Nazi. She’d become convinced that it wouldn’t be a bullet that killed him. It’d be skin cancer.

“I guess.”

“Don’t sound so excited. How are Claudia and Anna doing in Cape Town?”

“Good.”

“Are you going to go see them?”

“Yeah. Tonight.”

“Gonna stay for a while?”

“Don’t know.” A lie, but for now a convenient one.

“Man. You are a riveting conversationalist this morning.”

Rapp leaned back in the seat and glanced over at his old friend. “Tell me about him.”

“The president? Not that much to say that hasn’t been said before. He’s smart and focused as hell. After six months in office, though, he’s frustrated with the process. As a former governor who had a lot of support from local government, he’s finding it hard to wrap his arms around Washington. He wants to get things done but you know how it is. Ten roadblocks for every three feet of asphalt.”

“What about his wife?”