Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [77]
He kicked back on the sofa and reflected on the astonishing series of events that had transpired since his touchdown at Kennedy International Airport less than three days ago, events that had quickly relegated his original Chunxiao mission to secondary status.
It blew his mind to think the man he had spent so many pleasant evenings with at Stanford would soon become the new president of the United States. The astonishment was amplified when he learned that his friend Jack would become the new White House chief of staff.
It couldn’t be happening—not in a million years—and yet it was. The idea that two friends would become chief confidantes and advisors to the two most powerful men in the world was beyond his comprehension. Stranger yet, they represented countries on the opposite sides of a decade-long cold war.
In fact, Wang was surprised that his dinner with Jack was still on. Given Jack’s new assignment and the logistics, time, and clearances required to make it happen, this had to be more than a casual dinner between old friends. Perhaps, like his boss, the Americans found value in personal connections with foreign power structures. His unique relationship with Jack was something neither side wanted to fritter away. Deep in reflection on these unusual possibilities, Peng exploded from his chair when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door with glee.
“Peng, old friend, someone told me I might be able to get a couple of free beers up here. Is that right?” Jack McCarty said with an impish grin.
Wang laughed and hugged his old friend, and for the next several minutes they forgot about the world and set to renewing their friendship with an ease that suggested they had never been separated.
“Jack, I’m so sorry to hear about President Burkmeister’s illness. We had—excuse me—we have the highest regard for him and have been particularly appreciative of the fair and balanced approach he has taken with respect to the Chunxiao Incident.”
“Thanks, Peng, I appreciate that. Clayton told me the president had not been feeling well over the past few weeks, but no one—not even the president—had any idea how sick he really was. It’s still hard to believe.” Jack helped himself to one of the Heineken beers Peng had on ice and lobbed one at Wang.
“You know, Peng, you mentioned the president’s position on Chunxiao, and I’ve got to tell you a little secret. Clayton felt you had something to do with it.” Wang looked at him quizzically but had the good sense to remain quiet.
“Your boss really impressed the president with his calm and reasoned approach on the Chunxiao matter. The president shared parts of his conversation with Lin Cheng with his national security advisors, and Clayton thought at the time that you might have had something to do with the reasonable approach your boss had taken.”
“You give me way too much credit,” Peng said, smiling, “but thanks for your comment anyway. Lin Cheng really is a thoughtful and reasonable man and usually approaches every situation with an open perspective. I might have suggested that he merely be himself, but whatever he said, it was him and not me. I’m glad to hear this though, because he really feels the crisis has to be worked out in a rational manner.”
Feeling ill at ease given his surreptitious mission, Wang changed the subject. “How about you and Clayton, how are you two doing with everything that has happened in the past couple of days?”
“Well, Clayton’s no stranger to big challenges. He’s been close to the president since before the election. Burkmeister treated Clayton as far more than a ceremonial vice president, and Clayton was involved in almost every domestic and international decision-making effort involving the White House. He’s no novice in these matters, but still, your perspective