THIRTY-ONE

Abby was waiting for Joshua in their hotel room. As he came through the door, he expected her to start grilling him about his time with Pastor Campbell, but she didn’t. Nor did she expound on her chick lunch with Victoria McHenry. Instead, with an urgency in her voice, she said, “Josh, your office has been trying to reach you. It’s about Israel. They said you need to check your encrypted DOD Allfone right away.”

Joshua grabbed his deep blue Allfone, the one he used only for top secret Department of Defense business. He pulled up an email that had been routed through the Pentagon and cleared through the Technology Transfer Office. It had originated from the office of General Jacob Shapiro, chief of the general staff of the Israeli defense forces. It read,

The email had an attachment. He clicked it and read the certification document. Then he looked at Abigail and explained, “The Israelis want me over there in twenty-four hours.”

“So soon?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the rush?”

“They didn’t give me the specifics.”

Abigail waited for her husband to process the news and then said, “Josh, don’t these defense-technology transfers take a long time to iron out? Approvals from DOD and everything?”

“Usually. I knew they were testing the Return-to-Sender system with DOD approval, but this is different. They want me to consult with them personally in order to make it operational. That usually requires a whole additional level of Pentagon sign-offs, tons of red tape. But this time it’s all been done in advance. It’s right here in this attachment. The Pentagon certifies compliance with NATO mandates, approval obtained from our four-star regional commander and from the Missile Defense Agency. This thing’s been put on a fast track, triple time.”

“I hear the wheels churning in your head. Talk to me.”

“I’m thinking about the Roundtable, the threats that Pack McHenry told us about, the White House paralyzed. Maybe, as you put it, there’s some kind of silent coup going on. And a plot to bring hostile nukes into our borders.”

“I think you’ve got to ask yourself where you can do the most good.”

“I don’t know. I founded the Roundtable. I can’t walk out on everybody now. This is a crisis moment.”

Abigail placed her hand softly on his back. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. How can I help?”

“The attached document says that Michael Wooling, director of the MDA, apparently wants me over there stat. He’s a rock-steady guy, so if he thinks this is an emergency, sees smoke, it’s not just from a burned pot roast … he must believe the house is on fire. He’s also close to Admiral Patch, the national security advisor. The two are clones on the need for strong national defense. I’m wondering …”

“Maybe they know something we don’t.”

“Remember the intel that Pack McHenry gave us a year ago?”

“That the United States and Israel were both at risk?”

“Yes. And our briefing a few days ago. Evidence that Iran is closing in on a nuclear strike against Israel, just as Russia and North Korea are moving toward a nuke attack against us.”

Joshua was thinking out loud, his head bobbing as he dissected the problem. “So where does that leave us? Abby, you could run the Roundtable for me, of course. But is it really a defense-system question that the Roundtable has to answer? Or could it be something else? Something like — ”

“A critical failure in the executive branch?”

Joshua nodded, his face showing a granite resolve. “Exactly. The fact that the attack might be successful is really secondary to a constitutional implosion that’s preventing the Feds from intervening to protect us. I guess it’s really more a political crisis, which is where you come in. That’s your skill set.” Joshua looked up. The decision was made. “Okay. I go to Israel. Abby, you stay here and lead the Roundtable discussions about what we can do here on the home front.”

They looked at each other, and as they did they recognized the familiar expression. The silent acknowledgment that they were not only lovers and friends but also partners. And they were facing once again a crisis that was so titanic that it dwarfed who they were even when they were together.

Abby spoke it, but Josh felt it too. “Josh, we’ll do what we have to do, what we’re called to do. But I’m heartsick that we have to be away from each other, separated by thousands of miles, an ocean, and by whatever danger is out there, pulling us apart.”

For a moment, Abby looked as though she was about to say more but didn’t. As Joshua gazed at his wife he couldn’t get his mind off the deadly gravity of their mission. As Abby kissed him on his square jaw, she noticed that he’d rushed out without shaving that morning. She half smiled, then kissed him on the lips. She pulled back to look him in the eye, to remember his face and everything about him and quietly whispered.

“God help us.”