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PDF Enemy of My Enemy The Executive Office 2 Expanded Edition Tal Bauer Ebook Full Chapter
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ENEMY OF MY ENEMY
TAL BAUER
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature
readers.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s
imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any digital or
material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, uploading,
distributing, translating, or otherwise without the written permission of the
publisher, Tal Bauer.
Second Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
ISBN
Copyright © 2017 – 2019 Tal Bauer
Cover Art by Natasha Snow © Copyright 2017
First Published in 2017
Second Edition Published by Tal Bauer in the United States of America
CONTENTS
Prologue
Shockwaves Grip Nation as President Moves Gay Lover into White House
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
International Reactions Mixed to President’s Announcement; Embassies
Evacuated Due to Security Concerns
Chapter 3
Shadows of a Former General Turned Fugitive Terrorist Haunt United
States
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Senator Stephen Allen Rips into President and First Gentleman Following
Exposé
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Tough Fight Ahead for Secretary of State Elizabeth Wall in Vice
Presidential Confirmation Hearings
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Russian President Vehemently Denounces Leaked American Intelligence
Cables & Pledges Public Support for American President in the Hunt
for Madigan
China Distances from United States in Wake of Cables’ Release
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Russian Economy in Freefall - Anti-corruption Sweep Blamed
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Mixed Reactions on Both Sides of Atlantic to President Spiers’s Russian
Investment Plan
Chapter 25
Fury over State Funeral - General Moroshkin and Hardline Russian Political
Party Boycott Proceedings
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
President Spiers Sits Down for First One-on-One Interview, Discusses
Sexuality and Announces New Political Party
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
BREAKING NEWS: Russian Destroyer Attacked and Sunk in Indian Ocean
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Vinogradov Sinking: General Moroshkin demands President Puchkov’s
resignation
Chapter 37
Russian Parliament Leveled In Coup: Martial Law Declared
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Captain Leslie Spiers Recovered Alive in Russia. President Spiers And
White House Keeping Quiet About Ethan Reichenbach
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Anti-Moroshkin Insurgency Gains Strength in Southern Russia
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
BREAKING NEWS
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Flowers, Flags, and Candles Blanket the White House Fence, Honoring and
Remembering Jack Spiers
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Bonus Content
Bonus Content
Bonus Content
Bonus Content
Bonus Content
Bonus Content
About the Author
Other Books By Tal Bauer
Dedicated to my husband, who will always be my Jack.
And to Christina & Parvathy, two wonderful people who helped make
this all happen.
THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE CAST
White House
Jack Spiers: President of the United States
Ethan Reichenbach: First Gentleman and former head of
Presidential Secret Service Detail
Scott Collard: Ethan’s lifelong best friend, and new
Presidential Secret Service Detail Lead
Levi Daniels: Close friend of Ethan and Scott; also on the
Presidential Secret Service Detail
Luke Welby: Presidential Secret Service Detail Agent.
Elizabeth Wall: Secretary of State and Jack’s closest advisor in
his Cabinet
Lawrence Irwin: Former Director, CIA; promoted to Chief of
Staff after attempted coup
Pete Reyes: Press Secretary
Kate Triplett: Director, Secret Service
Todd Campbell: Director, FBI
Richard Rees: Director, CIA
Olivia Mori: Deputy Director, CIA
Meredith Peterson: National Security Advisor
Diana Ramirez: White House Counsel
Lewis Parr: Secretary of Defense
Sarah Carter: Attorney General
Julian Aviles: Secretary of Homeland Security
General Bradford: Chairman of the Joint Chiefs
Admiral McDonald: Director of Naval Operations
Gus Miramontes: Special assistant to the President
Jason Brandt: First Gentleman Press Secretary
Barbara Whitley: White House Social Secretary
Jennifer Prince: White House Floral Designer
Russia
Saudi Arabia
China
Madigan’s Faction
Other
Captain Leslie Spiers: US Army, Deceased – wife of Jack
Spiers, killed in action in the Iraq War
Jeff Gottschalk: Traitor, former Chief of Staff; killed in
attempted coup by Black Fox
PROLOGUE
White House
E yes slid sideways , the staff from the East Wing of the White House
all seemingly hovering in the lobby, waiting to catch a glimpse of
Ethan as he entered.
Ethan pushed through, nodding and giving his best tight smile to
the crowd.
“Relax,” Daniels breathed at his shoulder. “You’ve got your
constipated agent face on.”
Ethan threw a glare Daniels’s way.
“These are your people now.” Daniels’s eyebrows arched high as
he nodded to the mass of humanity.
His people. Jesus. The Office of the First Gentleman, all his.
Swallowing, Ethan tried to smile again, though he couldn’t fight the
nerves clutching at the back of his throat.
Daniels stayed by his side as he escaped up the stairway to the
second floor of the East Wing. On the quieter second floor, the Office
of the First Gentleman made its home. Oil paintings of former first
ladies hung on the walls, and at the end of the hallway, a corner
office overlooking the Kennedy Garden, opposite the Oval Office,
sported a shiny brass doorplate, reading, “First Gentleman, Ethan
Reichenbach.”
“Fuck me,” Ethan breathed. Just last Monday he’d been moody
and grumpy with Jack on their nightly Skype call, bemoaning his
exile in Iowa. He’d been frustrated, missing Jack and Levi and Scott
and everything about DC, and Jack had offered him the impossible:
be his first gentleman.
He’d dismissed it out of hand. He didn’t want to be a freeloader.
The first gentleman earned no income. It was a ceremonial position
only. He’d be an anchor on Jack’s neck. An albatross. They were
trying to stay out of the public’s eye, not catapult into it. There had
never been an unwed first gentleman before, certainly not a gay first
gentleman. The whole idea was a disaster. He’d already done too
much damage to Jack’s presidency.
On Wednesday, he’d flown to DC, stood in the Oval Office, and
told Jack he’d take it. He’d resign from the Secret Service and move
back to DC, ending his exile. He’d move in with Jack. They’d build a
life together. No looking back.
That new life had started immediately. They’d danced the night
away at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, and Ethan had
torn up his return ticket to Iowa. Thursday he’d faxed in his
resignation. Friday he and Jack took an early day, spending the
weekend ensconced in the Residence as Pete released the
announcement to the world.
And now, this.
It was too much. Ethan turned away, breathing hard as Daniels
gripped his shoulder again.
“This is history, man.” Daniels smiled, warm and bright, and
Ethan’s nerves screamed. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
Damn him. Damn Daniels. Ethan closed his eyes, took a deep
breath, and opened them to glare at Daniels. “This is insane. I don’t
deserve this. I’m not this guy. I shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s exactly why he fell in love with you, and why you are
here.” Daniels gave him a gentle shove, pushing him down the
empty hallway to the office that bore his name. “Get going. Your
staff is waiting inside.”
His staff. Jesus.
The heavy white door whispered over plush carpet as he entered
his office. Inside, one man and four women rose together from two
pale blue couches facing each other before a large desk. They
smiled and waited, silent.
He froze until Daniels jabbed him in his kidney. Ethan strode
behind the couches to the wooden chair waiting, obviously, for him.
He nodded to his staff and tried to smile. “Good morning. I’m Agent
—”
Clearing his throat, Ethan quirked his eyebrows at his staff as
Daniels grinned from the back of the room. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got
to get used to dropping my old title. I’m Ethan. Ethan Reichenbach.”
The smiles from his staff were indulgent, grins and nods that told
him that yes, dummy, they knew exactly who he was.
“Please, sit.” He fumbled a bit, waiting for his staff to sit, and
then he remembered that they were waiting for him. Embarrassment
burned his cheeks as he tried to clear his throat again and bear it.
Daniels covered his grin with the palm of his hand and looked
away.
“Can you all tell me a little bit about yourselves?” Ethan nodded
as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and tried to sit comfortably in the
ornate—but heinous—chair.
“Mr. First Gentleman,” said an older woman with short red hair
curled into fluffy rolls that perched around her face like a football
helmet. “Let me be the first to greet you with your new title.” She
smiled warmly at Ethan, her hands clasped in her lap and ankles
crossed just so. Her immaculate red suit was pressed and starched,
and a string of pearls hung at the hollow of her neck, just below a
fold of aging skin starting to sag.
Mr. First Gentleman. He flushed from head to toe and squirmed.
“Please, Mr. Reichenbach will do just fine.”
“Mr. First Gentleman,” she gently corrected him with an incline of
her head. She would have been a socialite contemporary of Nancy
Reagan and carried herself with a class that proved it. “My name is
Barbara Whitley, and I am the White House social secretary. I serve
at the pleasure of the first gentleman.” Another warm smile, and
Barbara’s head tilted. “And please let me say that I am absolutely
delighted to be working for you, Mr. First Gentleman.”
The gentleness radiating from Barbara calmed Ethan, just a
touch. “Forgive me, Ms. Whitley. I may have protected the president,
but I’m not up to speed on the full breadth of your duties.”
“I am responsible for the planning of all social events at the
White House, in coordination with you, of course. From something
as simple as an afternoon tea all the way to a full state dinner.”
That was a big job. Ethan blinked. “I have to admit,” he said,
shifting in his seat again, “I’m not really one for afternoon tea.”
“I do look forward to expanding this Office’s social calendar to
include your unique tastes, Mr. First Gentleman.” With that, Barbara
sat back and proverbially passed the baton by turning to a thin man
in his early thirties who peered through wire-rimmed glasses and
tried to surreptitiously scroll through his smartphone at the same
time.
“Hi there. Jason Brandt, press secretary to the first lady, I mean,
first gentleman.” Brandt corrected himself, smiling and shrugging
apologetically at the same time. “I would like to get some time on
the calendar one-on-one with you to plan our communications
strategy and media messaging. I’ve received some guidance from
Pete over in the West Wing, but I’d like to craft a uniquely first
gentleman message as well—”
“We’ll discuss that,” Ethan interrupted. “As a matter of principle,
we’ll take all of our press and media cues from the West Wing.” He
fixed Brandt with a stare. “We will work in perfect sync with them.”
Brandt nodded once and waved his cell phone. “And I have about
ten thousand interview requests. Want me to filter through and put
together a shortlist of quality candidates? We’ve got our choice of
any network or journalist—”
Another squirm. The chair back was digging into his spine no
matter where he shifted. “No interviews.”
Brandt blinked. “Mr. First Gentleman—”
“No interviews. The president and I have agreed. We’re
continuing to keep our personal lives private.”
Silence. Brandt’s eyes darted around to the rest of the staff, who
all looked away. “Mr. First Gentleman. You and the president are
trailblazers. This is unprecedented in American history. The public
has a right to know—”
“We have a right to live our lives in peace.”
“With all due respect, Mr. First Gentleman.” Brandt frowned and
swallowed. “If you don’t set the tone of your own media, it will be
set for you. Comedians. Late night talk shows. Spin doctors at the
news networks. Columnists. Politicians. Everyone who is anyone has
an opinion on you and the president. You’re not doing yourself any
favors by staying silent.”
Somewhere down the hall, a phone rang in an office, muffled
through the heavy door. Ethan’s eyes rose, and he found Daniels’s
quiet gaze fixed on him. Daniels gave him a tight smile and an
almost imperceptible nod.
“I’ll bring it to the president.” Swallowing, Ethan turned to the
next of his staffers and tried to smile.
“Jennifer Prince, chief floral designer.” She grinned, her short
blonde bob swinging at her shoulders. “I take care of all floral
arrangements in the White House. Have you enjoyed the bouquets
up in the Residence?”
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