Goodley got back in his chair after the other two left. “Okay, you can yell at me now ”
Jack waved for him to light up. “What do you mean?”
“For bringing up a dumb idea.”
“Dumb idea, my ass. You were the first to suggest it. You've been doing good work.”
“I haven't found beans,” the Harvard scholar grumbled.
“No, but you've been looking in all the right places.”
“If this stuff was for real, how likely is it that you'd be able to confirm through other sources?” Goodley asked.
“A little better than even money, maybe sixty percent, tops Mary Pat was right. This guy's been giving us stuff we can't always get somewhere else. But you're also correct: he stands to profit from being right. I have to run this one down to the White House before the weekend starts. Then I'm going to call Jake Kantrowitz and Eric Andrews and get them to fly in here for a look-see next week. Got any particular plans for the weekend?” Jack asked.
“No.”
“You do now. I want you to sweep through all your notes and do us a position paper, a good one.” Ryan tapped his desk “I want it here Monday morning.”
“Why?”
“Because you're intellectually honest, Ben. When you look at something, you really look.”
“But you never agree with my conclusions!” Goodley objected.
“Not very often, but your supporting data is first-rate. Nobody's right all the time. Nobody's wrong all the time, either. The process is important, the intellectual discipline, and you have that locked down pretty tight, Dr. Goodley. I hope you like living in Washington. I'm going to offer you a permanent position here. We're setting up a special group in the DI. Their mission will be to take contrarian positions, an in-house Team-B that reports directly to the DDI. You'll be the number-two man in the Russian section. Think you can handle it? Think carefully, Ben,” Jack added hastily “You'll take a lot of heat from the A-Team. Long hours, mediocre pay, and not a hell of a lot of satisfaction at the end of the day. But you'll see a lot of good stuff, and every so often someone's going to pay attention to you. Anyway, the position paper I want will be your entrance exam — if you're interested. I don't give a good goddamn what your conclusions are, but I want something I can contrast with what I'm going to get from everybody else. You game or not?”
Goodley squirmed in his seat and hesitated before talking. Christ, was this going to abort his career? But he couldn't not say it, could he? He let out his breath, and spoke. There's something you should know.'
“Okay.”
“When Dr. Elliot sent me here—”
“You were supposed to critique me. I know.” Ryan was very amused. “I did a pretty good job of seduction, didn't I?”
“Jack, there was more to it than that… she wanted me to do a personal check… to look for stuff that she could use against you.”
Ryan's face went very cold. “And?”
Goodley flushed, but went on rapidly. “And I delivered. I checked your file for the SEC investigation, and passed on some things about other financial dealings — the Zimmer family, stuff like that.” He paused. “I'm pretty ashamed of myself.”
“Learn anything?”
“About you? You're a good boss. Marcus is a lazy asshole, looks good in a suit. Liz Elliot is a prissy, mean- spirited bitch; she really likes manipulating people. She used me like a bird-dog. I learned something, all right. I'll never, ever do that again. Sir, I've never apologized like this to anyone before, but you ought to know. You have a right to know.”
Ryan stared into the young man's eyes for more than a minute, wondering if he'd flinch, wondering what sort of stuff was in there. Finally, he stubbed out his cigarette. “Make sure it's a good position paper, Ben.”
“You'll get the best I have.”
“I think I already have, Dr. Goodley.”
“Well?” President Fowler asked.
“Mr. President, SPINNAKER reports that there is definitely a number of tactical nuclear weapons missing from Soviet Army inventories, and that the KGB is conducting a frantic search for them.”
“Where?”
“All over Europe, including inside the Soviet Union itself. Supposedly, KGB is loyal to Narmonov, at least most of it, Narmonov thinks — our man says he's not so sure. The Soviet military is definitely not; he says that a coup is a serious possibility, but Narmonov is not taking strong enough action to deal with it. The possibility of blackmail is quite real. If this report is correct, there is the possibility of a rapid power shift over there whose consequences are impossible to estimate.”
“And what do you think?” Dennis Bunker asked soberly.
“The consensus at Langley is that this may be reliable information. We're beginning a careful check of all relevant data. The two best outside consultants are at Princeton and Berkeley. I'll have them in the office Monday to look over our data.”
“When will you have a firm estimate?” Secretary Talbot asked.
“Depends on what you mean by firm. End of next week, we'll have a preliminary estimate. 'Firm' is going to take a while. I've tried getting this confirmed by our British colleagues, but they came up blank.”
“Where could those things show up?” Liz Elliot asked.
“ Russia 's a big country,” Ryan replied.
“It's a big world,” Bunker said. “What's your worst-case estimate?”
“We haven't started that process yet,” Jack answered. “When you're talking about missing nuclear weapons, worst-cases can be pretty bad.”
“Is there any reason to suspect a threat directed against us?” Fowler asked.
“No, Mr. President. The Soviet military is rational, and that would be an act of lunacy.”
“Your faith in the uniformed mentality is touching,” Liz Elliot noted. “You really think theirs are more intelligent than ours?”
“They deliver when we ask them to,” Dennis Bunker said sharply. “I wish you would have just a little respect for them, Dr. Elliot.”
“We will save that for another day,” Fowler observed. “What could they possibly gain from threatening us?”
“Nothing, Mr. President,” Ryan answered.
“Agreed,” Brent Talbot said.
“I'll feel better when those SS-18s are gone,” Bunker noted, “but Ryan's right.”
“I want an estimate on that, too,” Elliot said. “I want it fast.”
“You'll get it,” Jack promised.
“What about the Mexico operation?”
“Mr. President, the assets are in place.”
“What is this?” the Secretary of State asked.
“Brent, I think it's time you got briefed in on this. Ryan, commence.”
Jack ran through the background information and the operational concept. It took several minutes.
“I can't believe they'd do such a thing: it's outrageous,” Talbot said.
“Is this why you're not coming out to the game?” Bunker asked with a smile. “Brent, I can believe it. How quickly will you have the transcripts from the aircraft?”
“Given his ETA into Washington, plus processing time… say around ten that night.”
“You can still come out to the game then, Bob,” Bunker said. It was the first time Ryan had ever seen someone address the President that way.
Fowler shook his head. “I'll catch it at Camp David. I want to be bright-eyed for this meet. Besides, the storm that just hit Denver might be here Sunday. Getting back into town could be tough, and the Secret Service spent a couple hours explaining how bad football games are for me — meaning them, of course.”
