Executive orders - Tom Clancy [301]
SO, WHAT SORT of man is he? Movie Star asked. His flight to Frankfurt had been followed by one to Athens, and from there to Beirut, and from there to Tehran. He knew Daryaei only by reputation.
He knows power, Badrayn answered, listening to the demonstrations outside. There was something about peace, he imagined. The war between Iraq and Iran had lasted close to a decade. Children had been sent off to die. Rockets had blasted the cities of both countries. The human cost would never be fully assessed, and though the war had ended years before, now it was truly ended-a thing of the heart rather than of law, perhaps. Or maybe a thing of God's law, which was different from that of man. The resulting euphoria was something he'd once felt himself. But now he knew better. Feelings like that were weapons of statecraft, things to be used. Outside were people who a short time before had chafed at what they had and what they did not have, who questioned the wisdom of their leader, who bridled-as much as one could in so tightly controlled a society as this one was-at the freedoms they lacked. That was gone now, and it would remain gone for-how long? That was the question, and that was why such moments had to be properly used. And Daryaei knew all of those things.
So, Badrayn said, turning off the outside noise of the faithful, what have you learned?
The most interesting things I learned from watching television. President Ryan is doing well, but he has difficulties. The government is not yet fully functional. The lower house of their parliament has not yet been replaced-the elections for that will begin to take place next month. Ryan is popular. The Americans love to poll one another, he explained. They call people on the telephone and ask questions-only a few thousand, often not that many, and from this they report to one another what everyone thinks.
The result? Badrayn asked.
A large majority seems to approve what he is doing-but he isn't really doing anything except to continue. He hasn't even chosen a Vice President yet.
Badrayn knew that, but not the reason. Why? he asked.
Movie Star grinned. I asked that question myself. The full parliament must approve such a thing, and the full parliament has not yet been reestablished. It will not be so for some time. Moreover, there is the problem with the former Vice President, that Kealty fellow, who claims that he is the President-and this Ryan has not imprisoned him. Their legal system doesn't deal with treason effectively.
And if we were able to kill Ryan ?
Movie Star shook his head. Very difficult. I took an afternoon to walk around Washington. Security at the palace is very strict. It is not open to public tours. The street in front of the building is closed. I sat on a bench for an hour, reading, and watched for signs around the place. Riflemen on all the buildings. I suppose we would have a chance on one of his official trips, but that would require extensive planning for which we lack the necessary time. And so, that leaves us with-
His children, Badrayn observed.
JESUS, I HARDLY see them anymore, Jack thought. He'd just gotten off the elevator, accompanied by Jeff Raman, and checked his watch. Just after midnight. Damn. He'd managed to sit through a hurried dinner with them and Cathy before hustling back downstairs for his reading and meetings, and now everyone was asleep.
The upstairs corridor was a lonely place, too wide for the intimacy of a real home. Three agents were in view, standing post, as they called it, and the warrant officer with the Football full of its nuclear codes. It was quiet because of the time of night, and the overall impression was rather like that of an upscale funeral home, not a house with a family in it. No clutter, no toys lying on the rug, no empty glasses in front of a TV. Too neat, too tidy,