headlines… By sowing confusion and frustration someone may make a mistake in the heat of anger, contact someone else they shouldn't contact, breaking the chain of secrecy, and there has to be a chain, sir. Those killers got in here, which took powerful connections to begin with. They're moving around from one end of the country to the other with weapons; that's no simple feat considering our security procedures… I have a field agent from Cairo going to San Diego and the best man we have in Beirut heading for the Baaka Valley. They both know what to look for.'
'Jesus!' cried Jennings, leaping up from the couch and pacing, the slipper falling off his foot. 'I can't believe Orson is any part of this! He's not my favourite bedfellow but he's not insane—he's also not suicidal.'
'He may not be a part of it, sir. Power, even a vice president's power, attracts the would-be powerful—or the would-be more powerful.'
'Goddamn it!' shouted the President, walking over to a Queen Anne desk on which there were scattered papers. 'No, wait a minute,' said Jennings, turning. 'In your own words you have this web of circumstances that somehow extends from the Oman crisis all the way across the world to San Diego. You say it has to be more than coincidence but that's all you've got. You don't have that well-advertised smoking gun, just a couple of people who knew each other years ago in the Middle East and one who suddenly shows up where you don't expect her.'
'The woman in question has a history of borderline financial manipulations for very high stakes. She would hardly be enticed by an obscure political position that's light years away from her normal compensation… Unless there were other considerations.'
'Andy-boy,' said the President, as if to himself. 'Glad-handed Andy… I never knew that about Ardis, of course. I thought she was a bank executive or something he met in England. Why would Vanvlanderen want her to work for Orson in the first place?'
'In my judgment, sir, it's all part of the web, the chain.' Payton stood up. 'I need your answer, Mr. President.'
'“Mr. President,” repeated Jennings, shaking his head as if he could not quite accept the title. 'I wonder if that word sticks in your throat.'
'I beg your pardon?'
'You know what I mean, Doctor. You arrive here at one o'clock in the morning with this paranoid scenario asking me to commit impeachable offences. Then when I ask you a few questions you proceed to tell me: A, You wouldn't vote for me. B, I'm simplistic. C, At best, I'm a predecessor of better men. D, I can't differentiate between coincidence and valid circumstantial evidence—’
'I never said that, Mr. President.'
'You implied it.'
'You asked for candour, sir. If I thought—'
'Oh, come on, get off it,' said Jennings, turning towards the antique desk with the papers strewn across the top. 'Are you aware that there's not a single person in the entire White House staff of over a thousand who would say those things to me? That doesn't include my wife and daughter, but then they're not official staff and they're both tougher than you are, incidentally.'
'If I offended you, I apologize—’
'Don't, please. I told you that you passed and I wouldn't want to rescind. I also wouldn't permit anyone but someone like you to ask me to do what you've asked me to do. Quite simply, I wouldn't trust them… You've got a green light, Doctor. Go wherever the hell the train takes you, just keep me informed. I'll give you a sacrosanct number that only my family has.'
'I need a presidential finding of nondisclosure. I've prepared one.'
'To cover your ass?'
'Certainly not, sir. I'll countersign it, assuming full responsibility for the request.'
'Then why?'
'To protect those below me who are involved but have no idea why.' Payton reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded page of paper. 'This makes it clear that your staff has not been consulted.'
'Thanks a bunch. So we both hang.'
'No, Mr. President. Only myself. Nondisclosure is built into the statutes of the 1947 Act of Congress institutionalizing the CIA. It
