likely the chances of something going wrong.
He thought back to the meeting the night before, with the odious Jovunet. Why the contradiction about the caviar? he wondered once more. It was a small thing, but it had the ring of something significant. Henry had come to the Cabinet Room directly from the safe house where Jovunet, surrounded by tailors, was cheerfully guzzling champagne and beluga caviar. It just didn’t make sense that Sunday’s kidnappers had made a point of instructing them to eliminate the caviar. Unless, of course, there was some hidden meaning in their message. He shook his head. Despite his years of experience, these games were new to him. Clearly there were no real rules, and anything was possible.
Henry realized that he was standing in front of his designated chair and that everyone was looking at him expectantly. “Mr. President,” he said, “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
Desmond Ogilvey, that monument of patience, the president most often compared to “Cool” Calvin Coolidge, said crisply, “Henry, I say this in the hearing of those who will swiftly leak it to the press . . .” He paused to glare at the Speaker of the House. “. . . Don’t pull that formal stuff on me unless you’re joking, I was born with the highest respect for the government and for statesmanship. But you taught me what the presidency is all about.”
And Sunday taught me what happiness is all about, Henry thought.
Desmond Ogilvey folded his hands on the conference table in the exact position the nation’s political cartoonists loved to caricature. “I think we are all up to date on the situation,” he began. “The SST is being fitted with the most sophisticated equipment in our arsenal. The goal, obviously, is to allow us to monitor Jovunet, so that his future movements will be precisely available to us. If all goes according to plan, as of Friday, if Jovunet is in the jungle, we’ll know what tree he’s in and even on which branch. Location should not be a problem.”
Ogilvey thumped his clenched hands on the conference table. “Here, however,
is
the problem. Despite some significant ‘boo-boos’ — as my mother used to call them — our two supersleuth agencies are thankfully once again on the ball and in step. All our intelligence agents report unequivocally that no nation, including both our closest allies and our outright enemies, has come forward to offer Jovunet a haven. In fact, virtually everyone has indicated that they would rather see the plane blown up than to see him set foot on their soil. Unfortunately one conclusion we can draw from this situation is that right now, in some country where we don’t expect it, a revolution is brewing that will overthrow the existing government and may well present a very real threat to international peace.”
Henry listened with a sinking heart. It was as though he were watching Sunday trying to swim in a raging current, and that he was helpless to save her.
“Therefore,” Desmond Ogilvey continued, “we must conclude that there is a national emergency pending, that
a nation whose warning signals have been ignored is about to erupt.
” His glance at the director of the CIA caused that unfortunate dignitary to pale. Then the president looked across the table at his predecessor and announced, “I don’t know how to say this, but it would seem that your wife, the esteemed congresswoman from New Jersey, is in the hands of an unrecognized foe. I am afraid until they reveal themselves, there is little we can do but wait.”
Abruptly Henry stood up. “Des, I’ve got to revise the statement Jovunet is about to videotape.”
He turned to leave the room but was stopped momentarily by the embrace of reassuring arms. “Henry,” Desmond Ogilvey vowed, “we’re going to get her back. Every facility we can employ is committed to making that happen.”
No, Des, Henry thought. We’ve got to play the game this way, but my gut is telling me that
He thought back to the meeting the night before, with the odious Jovunet. Why the contradiction about the caviar? he wondered once more. It was a small thing, but it had the ring of something significant. Henry had come to the Cabinet Room directly from the safe house where Jovunet, surrounded by tailors, was cheerfully guzzling champagne and beluga caviar. It just didn’t make sense that Sunday’s kidnappers had made a point of instructing them to eliminate the caviar. Unless, of course, there was some hidden meaning in their message. He shook his head. Despite his years of experience, these games were new to him. Clearly there were no real rules, and anything was possible.
Henry realized that he was standing in front of his designated chair and that everyone was looking at him expectantly. “Mr. President,” he said, “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
Desmond Ogilvey, that monument of patience, the president most often compared to “Cool” Calvin Coolidge, said crisply, “Henry, I say this in the hearing of those who will swiftly leak it to the press . . .” He paused to glare at the Speaker of the House. “. . . Don’t pull that formal stuff on me unless you’re joking, I was born with the highest respect for the government and for statesmanship. But you taught me what the presidency is all about.”
And Sunday taught me what happiness is all about, Henry thought.
Desmond Ogilvey folded his hands on the conference table in the exact position the nation’s political cartoonists loved to caricature. “I think we are all up to date on the situation,” he began. “The SST is being fitted with the most sophisticated equipment in our arsenal. The goal, obviously, is to allow us to monitor Jovunet, so that his future movements will be precisely available to us. If all goes according to plan, as of Friday, if Jovunet is in the jungle, we’ll know what tree he’s in and even on which branch. Location should not be a problem.”
Ogilvey thumped his clenched hands on the conference table. “Here, however,
is
the problem. Despite some significant ‘boo-boos’ — as my mother used to call them — our two supersleuth agencies are thankfully once again on the ball and in step. All our intelligence agents report unequivocally that no nation, including both our closest allies and our outright enemies, has come forward to offer Jovunet a haven. In fact, virtually everyone has indicated that they would rather see the plane blown up than to see him set foot on their soil. Unfortunately one conclusion we can draw from this situation is that right now, in some country where we don’t expect it, a revolution is brewing that will overthrow the existing government and may well present a very real threat to international peace.”
Henry listened with a sinking heart. It was as though he were watching Sunday trying to swim in a raging current, and that he was helpless to save her.
“Therefore,” Desmond Ogilvey continued, “we must conclude that there is a national emergency pending, that
a nation whose warning signals have been ignored is about to erupt.
” His glance at the director of the CIA caused that unfortunate dignitary to pale. Then the president looked across the table at his predecessor and announced, “I don’t know how to say this, but it would seem that your wife, the esteemed congresswoman from New Jersey, is in the hands of an unrecognized foe. I am afraid until they reveal themselves, there is little we can do but wait.”
Abruptly Henry stood up. “Des, I’ve got to revise the statement Jovunet is about to videotape.”
He turned to leave the room but was stopped momentarily by the embrace of reassuring arms. “Henry,” Desmond Ogilvey vowed, “we’re going to get her back. Every facility we can employ is committed to making that happen.”
No, Des, Henry thought. We’ve got to play the game this way, but my gut is telling me that
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