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as hell. Focus on the conversation. “And how did you learn how to do that?”
    “Because my job for years was to kill foreign heads of state.”
    Christian jolted. “The US government doesn’t kill foreign leaders. Doing so would open our own senior leaders up to assassinations in return. It’s one of the few gentlemen’s agreements left in the world. You don’t kill our guy—we won’t kill yours.”
    “You go right ahead and keep on thinking that,” Stone answered dryly.
    “Who? Name me one head of state we’ve taken out.”
    “Dude. That kind of stuff is so classified that the security-violation fairies would rise up out of the ocean and shoot me dead where I stand if I talked about it.”
    They resumed walking. “Seriously?” Christian muttered. “We do that kind of stuff?”
    “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff we do.”
    “But why?”
    “Threaten the nation, threaten to attack civilians, threaten a high-ranking member of our government—we’re coming for you.”
    It wasn’t as if classified military operations were entirely unheard of. Although Lacey wasn’t on the Senate Intelligence Committee, certain briefings came along. Rumors floated around among the Senate staffers. Now and then the full Senate got a briefing about some activity the military was undertaking. Hell, he didn’t want to venture a guess at what the CIA might be up to that it didn’t brief the Senate on.
    “And who exactly is ‘we’? Who did you work for?”
    “Classified.”
    “I’ve got a top-secret clearance. Have to if I’m going to handle all of the senator’s correspondence. I’ve heard of some of the types of groups you’re talking about.”
    “I guarantee you haven’t heard about the one I ran with.”
    He got the distinct impression that was all Stone planned to say on the subject. It made sense, though. As fast as one Special Forces group got famous for its exploits, another had to be formed that was deeply secret. Totally off the books. Able to work in the secrecy necessary to do the kind of stuff Stone was hinting at.
    “What’s Senator Lacey up to this morning?” Stone asked as they neared the hotel. “All his itinerary said was ‘work.’”
    “That would be sleeping in late and eating brunch in his suite before heading down to the spa for a massage and mani-pedi,” Christian answered wryly.
    “He gets mani-pedis?”
    “Real men are allowed to have decent grooming, you know.”
    “Yeah, but pedicures?”
    “He likes the kind where the fish eat the dead skin off his feet.”
    “That’s gross. It sounds like something the Romans would have done when their decadence ran amok.”
    Christian shrugged. “The perks of power.”
    “Why that tone of voice?”
    Give Stone Jackson points for hearing the sarcasm. “Lacey comes from the school of letting his staff members do all the grunt work while he… indulges himself. We brief him on the highlights, and he takes all the credit.”
    “Similar thing happened in the military sometimes. We put our necks on the line and some asshole drinking coffee in the Pentagon got all the glory.”
    Christian sincerely hoped the generals running the military didn’t have Jack Lacey’s vices. He changed subjects and veered for safer waters. “I have a briefing scheduled with Jack after lunch to go over his votes on a couple of major bills coming up in the Senate in the next few weeks.”
    “Shouldn’t he know how he’s going to vote on a bill if he’s the guy doing the voting?”
    “One would think.”
    “Jeez, Christian. Is there anything redeeming about your boss?”
    “His wife rocks. She does a ton of charity work and outreach to Texas constituents.”
    “How did an asshole like him land a woman like her?”
    “I chalk it up to her being young and in love when they met in college. And the ladies seem to think Jack’s hell on wheels in the sack.”
    “‘Ladies’ plural?” Stone asked.
    “Affirmative. Although I’ll deny having said