The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [113]
Well, I will sure as hell prove that today, the President of the United States told himself in yet another mirror as he checked his tie. His head turned at the knock on the door. "Come in."
"Good morning, Mr President." said Special Agent Connor.
"How are you today, Pete?" Fowler asked, turning back to the mirror the knot wasn't quite right, and he started afresh.
"Fine, thank you, sir. It's a mighty nice day outside."
"You people never get enough rest. Never get to see the sights, either. That's my fault, isn't it?" There, Fowler thought, that's perfect.
"It's okay, Mr President. We're all volunteers. What do you want for breakfast, sir?"
"Good morning, Mr President!" Dr Elliot came in behind Connor. "This is the day!"
Bob Fowler turned with a smile. "It sure as hell is! Join me for breakfast, Elizabeth?"
"Love to. I have the morning brief - it's a nice short one for a change."
"Pete, breakfast for two a big one. I'm hungry."
"Just coffee for me," Liz said to the servant. Connor caught the tone of her voice, but did not react beyond nodding before he left. "Bob, you look wonderful."
"So do you, Elizabeth." And so she did, in her most expensive suit, which was also serious-looking, but just feminine enough. She took her seat and did the briefing.
"CIA says the Japanese are up to something," she said as she concluded.
"What?"
They caught a whiff, Ryan says, of something in the next round of trade negotiations. The Prime Minister is quoted as saying something unkind."
"What exactly?"
" 'This is the last time we'll be cut out of our proper role on the world stage, and I'll make them pay for this,' " Dr Elliot quoted. "Ryan thinks it's important."
"What do you think?"
"I think Ryan's being paranoid again. He's been cut out of this end of the treaty works, and he's trying to remind us how important he is. Marcus agrees with my assessment, but forwarded the report out of a fit of objectivity." Liz concluded with heavy irony.
"Cabot is something of a disappointment, isn't he?" Fowler observed as he looked over the briefing notes.
"He doesn't seem very effective at telling his people who the boss is. He's being captured by the bureaucracy over there, especially Ryan."
"You really don't like him, do you?" the President noted.
"He's arrogant. He's -"
"Elizabeth, he has a very impressive record. I don't much care for him either as a person, but as an intelligence officer he has done a lot of things very, very well."
"He's a throwback. He's James Bond, or thinks he is. Fine," Elliot admitted, "he's done some important things, but that sort of thing is history. We need someone now with a broader view."
"Congress won't go for it," the President said, as breakfast was wheeled in. The food had been scanned for radio-actives, checked for electronic devices, and sniffed for explosives - which, the President thought, put one hell of a strain on the dogs, who probably liked sausage as well as he did. "We'll serve ourselves, thanks," the President dismissed the Navy steward before going on. "They love him there, Congress loves the guy." He didn't have to add the fact that Ryan, as Deputy Director of Central Intelligence, was not merely a Presidential appointee. He'd also been through a confirmation hearing in the US Senate. Such people were not easily dismissed. There had to be a reason.
"I never have figured that out. Especially Trent. Of all the people to sign off on Ryan, why him?"
"Ask him." Fowler suggested, as he buttered his pancakes.
"I have. He danced around the issue like the prima ballerina at the New York Ballet." The President laughed uproariously at that.
"Christ, woman, don't ever let anybody hear you say that!"
"Robert, we both support the estimable Mr Trent's choice of sexual preference, but he is a prissy son of a bitch and we both know it."
"True," Fowler had to agree. "So, what are you telling me, Elizabeth?"
"It's time for Cabot to put Ryan in his place."