A Game of Optics

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth

"The Russians still aren't backing down, ma'am." The elevator door opened on the seventh floor to reveal Jay, Kat, Blake and—more concerningly—Daisy. Whoever said 'No news is good news' certainly knew what they were talking about.

Elizabeth took the coffee cup from Blake and cradled it in both hands; the warmth that seeped through the paper was welcome after the chill outside. She looked to Jay. "When you say they're not backing down..."

Kat tapped the screen of her tablet and thrust it in front of Elizabeth as they strode through the corridors towards her office. "Glasses," Elizabeth said to herself, and she passed the coffee back to Blake whilst she rooted around in her bag. She pushed the frames up the bridge of her nose and took the tablet from Kat. Their procession continued.

On screen, President Salnikov's gesticulations were wilder than ever. He made a person fighting off a swarm of killer bees look positively serene. Even the smiles of the mannequin presenters faltered a little as he launched into a particularly ferocious tirade, and the two blondes shrank back from their desk. Elizabeth handed the tablet back to Kat and pushed her glasses down a fraction so that she could pinch her eyes. Why couldn't this all just be some kind of bad dream? Perhaps Henry's Kafka references weren't so obscure after all.

"Salnikov is now claiming that our embassy in Moscow is rife with American operatives under diplomatic covers," Jay said, as they entered her office.

"So, projecting then?" Elizabeth shrugged off her coat and scarf, and Blake whisked them away before she had even realised he was at her side. She retreated to her desk and leant against the edge, whilst Kat and Daisy took the seats in front of her and Jay hovered behind them. "Do we have any operatives at the embassy? Do we need to think about getting them out?"

"I'll liaise with the CIA," Jay said. He tapped his fingers against the back of clipboard that he clutched in his hands, then turned and strode towards the door.

Elizabeth called after him. "And if they start getting awkward, kick them over to me."

Jay gave a slight bow. "Yes, ma'am."

"Kat," Elizabeth said, and Kat sat up a little straighter, like a student called upon in class, "have you drawn up that list of sanctions? I think it's time that I spoke to Minister Avdonin."

"Ma'am." Daisy held up one finger. A startled expression had leapt to her face. "If I may..." Elizabeth nodded. "Whilst I understand that it's important that we're not seen to be neglecting this issue, it would be remiss of me not to advise you against provoking the Russians."

Elizabeth's head swam with the tortuous phrasing and abundance of negatives. Even Kat had shot Daisy a skeptical look. Elizabeth raised her hand before Daisy could continue leading them through the forest of words. "Spit it out, Daisy."

"I...uh...It's just..." Daisy smoothed down the hem of her dress, then clung to her knees. "Salnikov has already made this issue personal, that much is clear from his chat show, and I'm concerned that if we impose sanctions, he might make it even more...personal." Daisy's eyes bugged at the final word.

The photos. So Daisy thought the Russians might be behind it too. Elizabeth rocked back onto her heels, her gaze fixed on the floor. But if it was the Russians, why hadn't they released the photos already? It wasn't like them to show restraint. Even if Salnikov didn't have the balls to release them himself, the GRU could easily disseminate the pictures to the American press and the media would do the job for him. Be careful over this thing with the embassy, won't you? Henry's words looped through her mind, and the promise she had made him. This wasn't just her career; it was his reputation, his life.