Page 16 of Campaign Season
The room had shifted entirely—no trace of the laughter from minutes ago. Jameson’s muddy, fish-flopping antics might dominate the news cycle for a day, but Candace knew the world’s eyes would soon be fixed on something far more dangerous.
Gil closed his folder with a decisive snap. “We’ll keep the assessments moving. I’ll update you as soon as we have firmer intel.” He gave a brisk nod and started for the door. Then he paused, studying her a beat longer than usual.
“Ma’am,” he said, his voice quieter, almost reluctant, “you look tired.”
Candace forced a small smile. “That’s because I am.”
Gil’s brow creased, but he didn’t press. He gave her a curt nod and left, the door closing softly behind him.
Alex lingered. She watched Candace for a moment, noting the slight slump in her shoulders, the way her fingers rested against the closed laptop like she wasn’t ready to let go of the levity it had held.
“The last thing this country needs right now is someone made of steel,” Alex said gently.
Candace’s eyes lifted, curious.
“They don’t need a machine, Candace. They need you. Someone with steely resolve, yes—but someone who feels the weight of what it costs. That’s what makes people trust you. What makes them believe in you. And that extends beyond the public. It’s true of everyone here.”
Candace exhaled slowly, her gaze softening. For a moment, she let the words sink in.
“Thank you, Alex,” she said quietly.
Alex gave her a small smile. “Anytime. And for what it’s worth? I think Jameson’s fish story might just be the best campaign ad you never planned.”
Candace chuckled, the heaviness easing for just a moment. “She is my not-so-secret weapon,” she said, winking.
“Listen, I don’t think Popov is brazen enough to make a move against a NATO ally.”
“Probably not. The unease his posturing causes could prompt an escalation. After the attack on the Polish power grid, President Ostrowski isn’t likely to give Popov much runway.”
“Do you want me to call Jen? Have her reach out to the Polish ambassador? Maybe State has the best chance of quelling nerves.”
“No. I’ll call Teresa,” Candace said. “She has a close relationship with Ostrowski. If anyone can settle his nerves, itwill be the German Chancellor. For now. But, Alex, if Popov makes any bolder moves…”
“I know. My gut tells me this is a distraction. Russia wants us looking at Kaliningrad.”
Candace sighed. “That isn’t necessarily a better scenario.”
“No. I agree. I’ll see what threads I can pull,” Alex promised.
“Just be careful.”
“Maybe you should consider reaching out to Barbu again?”
Candace’s brow furrowed. She didn’t trust the Romanian president.
“I don’t trust him either,” Alex said. “But if Costin Barbu believes in anything, it’s self-preservation. He might have his roots in Russian interest, but he’s not willing to trade his position—or Romania’s—for Yuri Popov, or anyone.”
Candace sighed. “That may be. I want something more concrete before I speak with him. It’s a privilege, Alex—a personal call from the American president. It signals my respect. He doesn’t enjoy that.”
“Understood. I’ll make some calls.”
Candace nodded. “Alex?”
“Yes?”
“Keep the circle tight around Barbu.”
“Understood,” Alex said. She pointed to the laptop. “Watch Lucy and Ethel a few more times,” she suggested.
