The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga Read Free Page A

has it.   The drugs keep me in this bed, keep me from running the country.   Keep me from saving the country.   No… It's time I took back control.
    The President slowly took Jayne's hand in his and pulled it out from under the sheet.   His grip was firm, his mind resolute.   "You’re right, my dear.   I'm the President.   It's time I got back to business.   There's a country that needs my help."  
    Jayne sat on the edge of the bed and regarded him through half-closed eyes.   At length she sighed and began to run her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair.   "Well, if you must .   I scheduled a meeting with the Joint Chiefs in an hour.   But I must say, it doesn't help me start the day off on the right foot when you turn down my attention…" She stood up and padded across the floor toward the bathroom.
    The President sat up, the smile fading from his face as he watched the seductive sway of her hips when she entered the bathroom and closed the door.   That view has held me captive for far too long , he told himself.   You tried to give me an overdose, my dear.   You had me locked up in this bed for over a week.   I let you take over the running of the government.   I let you!
    In a flash of anger, he threw off the sheets and moved to the exquisitely carved valet to get dressed, then paused.   He glanced back at the bathroom door and heard Jayne turn on the shower.   He imagined the warm water as it caressed her skin and dribbled down in little rivulets…
    Well, I suppose I can’t tip my hand just yet.   Wouldn't want to give you the impression that you have no power over me anymore… He walked over to the bathroom door with a smile on his face.

    T HE P RESIDENT SANK INTO his plush executive chair at the head of the polished conference table in the Ops Center, deep under the White House.   He smiled.   It was good to be back.  
    He glanced at Jayne, who sat demurely in a smaller version of his own chair to his right.   She put on a show of being happy about his return to power, but the smile that graced her angelic face did not reach her eyes.   There was something cold and calculating in there, he thought, something to be watched—something to be destroyed when the time was right.  
    In the meantime, he would continue to avail himself of her…expertise.   He let his eyes linger on her chest and the smooth skin of her thighs, exposed by her minuscule leather skirt.   Not exactly appropriate dress for the President's new Chief of Staff, but what the hell did he care anymore?
    "It's good to have you back, sir," said his newer, younger Secretary of Defense with a smile.  
    The President nodded.   What the hell is your name?   He stared at the clean-cut man across the conference table.   He looked to be in his 40s, a clear departure from the standard, elder-statesman type that had previously occupied the position for decades.   Haden Brooks.   Yes.   That’s it—Brooks.
    The other faces depicted on large wall screens around the perimeter of the room echoed similar pleasantries.   The President stared blankly at most of them.   So many new faces—how did I let it get this bad?    
    He remembered firing the Joint Chiefs, but the last thing he could recall about that particular episode had been Jayne straddling him in the very chair in which he now sat.   He gripped the armrests on his chair and looked down.   Right here…
    "Indeed," said the image of the Chief of Staff of the Navy.   "Glad to have your hand back on the helm, Mr. President."
    We'll see about that.   "So!" the President said.   He rubbed his hands together, “I’ve been out for too long.   Someone get me up to speed.   I'm willing to bet you're not going to tell me that the crisis has been averted and everything is back to normal, are you, Haden?"
    Secretary Brooks shook his head.   "Unfortunately, no, Mr. President."
    The President sighed and leaned back in his chair.   For a split second, he was back in