The plan was set in motion. Between tense calls to Moscow and a brief, frantic check-in with Stevie about her law school applications, Elizabeth navigated the razor's edge.

"Ma'am, sorry to wake you," Blake’s voice was crisp despite the hour. "But the Russians just moved a research vessel into a disputed zone in the Beaufort Sea. And they aren’t looking for oil. They’ve cut a fiber-optic cable belonging to a NATO listening post."

Entering the outer office of the West Wing, she found her team already in high gear. Daisy was drafting a "concerned but firm" press statement, while Jay was frantically mapping out the legal gray areas of Arctic maritime law.

Henry smiled, pulling her into a brief, grounding hug. "Good. Because tomorrow's Saturday, and it's your turn to take the car in for an oil change."

"They won't refuse," Elizabeth said firmly. "Because if they do, I tell the Swedish and Norwegian ministers exactly what’s on that cable they cut—information that makes the Kremlin look very, very bad to their own allies."

Elizabeth laughed, the Secretary of State replaced by the wife and mother. "Suddenly, the Kremlin seems much easier to handle."