Debt of Honor - Tom Clancy [136]
Kris Hunter leaned forward. "But the leading candidate to take the prime ministership is a long-standing enemy of the United States—"
"That's a little strong," Ryan interrupted with a good-natured smile.
"His speeches, his writings, his books are not exactly friendly."
"I suppose," Ryan said with a dismissive wave and a crooked smile.
"The difference between discourse among friendly nations and unfriendly ones, oddly enough, is that the former can often be more acrimonious than the latter." Not bad, Jack…
"You are not concerned?"
"No," Ryan said with a gentle shake of the head. Short answers on a show like this tended to intimidate reporters, he thought.
"Thank you for coming in this morning, Dr. Ryan."
"A pleasure as always."
Ryan continued to smile until the camera lights blinked off. Then he counted slowly to ten. Then he waited until the other reporters removed their microphones. Then he removed his microphone and stood up and moved away from the working part of the set. And then it was safe to speak. Bob Holtzman followed Jack into the makeup room. The cosmeticians were off drinking coffee, and Ryan took a fistful of HandiWipes and passed the container to Holtzman. Over the mirror was a large slab of wood engraved on which was, IN HERE EVERYTHING IS OFF THE RECORD.
"You know the real reason behind equal rights for women?" Holtzman asked. "It wasn't equal pay, or bras, or any of that crap."
"Right," Jack agreed. "It was forcing them to wear makeup. We deserved everything we got. God, I hate this shit!" he added, wiping the pancake off his forehead. "Makes me feel like a cheap whore."
"That isn't too unusual for a political figure, is it?" Kristyn Hunter asked, taking wipes to do the same.
Jack laughed. "No, but it's kind of impolite for you to say so, ma'am."
Am I a political figure now? Ryan asked himself. I suppose I am. How the hell did that happen?
"Why the fancy footwork on my last question, Jack?" Holtzman asked.
"Bob, if you know it was fancy footwork, then you know why." Ryan motioned to the sign over the mirror, then decided to tap it to make sure everyone caught the message.
"I know that when the last government fell, it was us who developed the information on the bribery scandal," Holtzman said.
Jack gave him a look but nothing else. Even no comment would have been a substantive comment under these circumstances.
"That killed Goto's first chance to become Prime Minister. He was next in line, remember?"
"Well, now he's got another. His patience is rewarded," Ryan observed.
"If he can get a coalition together."
"Don't give me that," Hunter leaned toward the mirror to finish cleaning her nose off. "You've read the stuff he's been telling their papers, same as I have, he will get a cabinet formed, and you know what arguments he's been using."
"Talk is cheap, especially for somebody in that business," Jack said. He still hadn't quite made the leap of imagination to include himself "in that business." "Probably just a blip, one more politician with a few too many drinks under his belt who had a bad day at the office or the track."
"Or the geisha house," Kris Hunter suggested. She finished removing the makeup, then sat on the edge of the counter and lit a cigarette. Kristyn Hunter was an old-fashioned reporter. Though still on the sunny side of fifty, she was a graduate of Columbia's School of Journalism and had just been appointed chief foreign correspondent for the Chicago Tribune. Her voice was as dry as dust. "Two years ago that bastard put a move on me. His language would shock a Marine, and his suggestions were…shall we say, eccentric. I presume you have information on his personal habits, Dr. Ryan?"
"Kris, never, ever, not even once will I discuss what personal stuff, if any, we have on foreign officials." Jack paused. "Wait. He doesn't speak English, does he?" Ryan closed his eyes, trying