Patrick thought about Wendy, and he thought about how lonely and isolated he felt standing on this Egyptian warship in Egyptian waters, surrounded by the Egyptian navy. He had no plan, and his options were rapidly decreasing. There was nothing they could do. “I understand,” he said. “All we’ll need is a shuttle to shore and access to a landing strip for our transport aircraft. By tonight, we’ll be gone.”

“You shall have anything you need.” Susan motioned to the briefcase beside her. “That briefcase contains data CDs of all the latest intelligence info we have on all of the Mediterranean states. Some of it is only hours old. Photos, field reports, overhead imagery, radio intercepts, everything we could gather. It should help you find your wife and your missing men.” He realized he was still grasping her shoulders, and he started to move them away, but she took his armored gauntlets and held them to her, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for what you’ve done for Egypt,” she said. “I’m sorry for the sacrifices you’ve made for our country.”

“Where will you go now, Susan?”

Susan sighed. “Go to Cairo to bury my husband.”

“I think that would be very dangerous.”

“I must,” she said. “It’s my last duty as first lady of Egypt. After that, I can start planning my own future.”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know. The United States might be the only place my husband’s enemies can’t touch me.” She paused, then looked at Patrick. “And you? Will you go home as well?”

“I don’t believe in leaving before the fighting’s over,” Patrick replied. “If my wife is alive, I’ll find her. If she’s dead, I’ll make the Libyans sorry they ever decided to launch those attack planes.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“I can’t hope to use overhead imagery to find her, and there are too many bases she could have been taken to,” Patrick said. “So I’m going to go right to the source. I’m going to make Zuwayy an offer he can’t refuse.” He looked at her, then added, “Seems to me you have some fighting of your own left to do.”

“Fighting?”

“Someone killed your husband and tried to kill you, Susan,” Patrick said. He looked into her eyes deeply, carefully, as if deciding if what he was about to say was accurate; then: “You’re a soldier. No one would blame you if you got away—but something tells me it’s not entirely in your nature to run.”

“What do you suggest—soldier to soldier?”