The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [344]
Looking around the room, he could see the chiefs of government of more than fifteen countries, from little Iceland to the Netherlands to Turkey. He was President of the United States of America, by far the largest and most powerful country of the NATO alliance—until tomorrow, anyway, he corrected himself—and he wanted to take them all aside and ask each one how the hell he (they were all men at the moment) reconciled his self and his duties. How did you do the job honorably? How did you look after the needs of every citizen? Ryan knew that he couldn't reasonably expect to be universally loved. Arnie had told him that—that he only needed to be liked, not loved, by half-plus-one of the voters in America—but there had to be more to the job than that, didn't there? He knew all of his fellow chief executives by name and sight, and he'd been briefed in on each man's character. That one there, he had a mistress only nineteen years old. That one drank like a fish. That one had a little confusion about his sexual preference. And that one was a crook who'd enriched himself hugely on the government payroll. But they were all allies of his country, and therefore they were officially his friends. And so Jack had to ignore what he knew of them and treat them like what they appeared to be rather than what they really were, and the really funny part of that was that they felt themselves to be his superiors because they were better politicians than he was. And the funniest part of all was that they were right. They were better politicians than he was, Ryan thought, sipping his wine. The British Prime Minister walked off to see his Norwegian counterpart, as Cathy Ryan rejoined her husband.
"Well, honey, how did it go?"
"The usual. Politics. Don't any of these women have a real job?" she asked the air.
"Some do," Jack remembered from his briefings. "Some even have kids."
"Mainly grandkids. I'm not old enough for that yet, thank God."
"Sorry, babe. But there are advantages to being young and beautiful," POTUS told FLOTUS.
"And you're the best-looking guy here," Cathy replied with a smile.
"But I'm too tired. Long day at the bargaining table."
"Why are you bringing Russia into NATO?"
"To stop a war with China," Jack replied honestly. It was time she knew. The answer to her question got her attention.
"What?"
"I'll fill you in later, babe, but that's the short version."
"A war?"
"Yeah. It's a long story, and we hope that what we agreed to do today will prevent it."
"You say so," Cathy Ryan observed dubiously.
"Meet anybody you like?"
"The French president is very charming."
"Oh, yeah? He was a son of a bitch in the negotiating session today. Maybe he's just trying to get in your knickers," Jack told his wife. He'd been briefed in on the French president, and he was reputed to be a man of "commendable vigor," as the State Department report delicately put it. Well, the French had a reputation as great lovers, didn't they?
"I'm spoke for, Sir John," she reminded him.
"And so am I, my lady." He could have Roy Altman shoot the Frenchman for making a move on his wife, Ryan thought with amusement, but that would cause a diplomatic incident, and Scott Adler always got upset about those … Jack checked his watch. It was about time to call this one a day. Soon some diplomat would make a discreet announcement that would end the evening. Jack hadn't danced with his wife. The sad truth was that Jack couldn't dance a lick, which was a source of minor contention with his wife, and a shortcoming he planned to correct someday … maybe.
The party broke up on time. The embassy had comfortable quarters, and Ryan found his way to the king-sized bed brought in for his and Cathy's use.
Bondarenko's official residence at Chabarsovil