Power and Empire

“And we’re certain LKI Telephone is linked to the Zhongnanhai?”

Mary Pat Foley tapped a closed fountain pen against her legal pad. “The Hong Kong firm Marshall, Phillips, and Symonds is definitely a PRC front. We haven’t linked President Zhao personally, but he would certainly be aware of it. That’s what piqued Dr. Miller’s interest in the first place. CTA — Cromwell Telecom Alliance — appears to be nothing but a shell.”

Ryan reached under his reading glasses to rub his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. His suit jacket hung over the back of his chair. His tie was loose, top button undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms — signs that he considered this a meeting where everyone would get down in the analytical weeds.

The actual “head” of the table was on the east side, with the President’s back to the Rose Garden windows and the wings of the long oval extending on either side.

The room was virtually empty today, with just six other people in attendance — Ryan preferred to think of it as a strategy session rather than a meeting. The Oval Office would have been more comfortable, but the Cabinet Room gave everyone space to spread out their paperwork — and Ryan knew that the DNI liked to doodle with her fountain pen when she put on her analytical hat. The location also afforded him the opportunity to leave the others to their work rather than disrupt a fruitful discussion by kicking them out of the Oval.

SecState Scott Adler sat in his usual Cabinet Room spot to Ryan’s right. Arnie van Damm occupied the chair to his left. SecDef Bob Burgess and CIA director Jay Canfield sat across the table with Foley.

Supervisory Special Agent Gary Montgomery stood just inside the door by the wall. Customarily, Ryan asked the Secret Service to give him space inside the Oval and the Situation Room, but it was not uncommon for an agent to be within “lunging distance” during other meetings in the White House.

Ryan pondered the information for a moment, tossing it around with what he’d learned from Dr. Miller.

He asked, “How hard was this to find?”

Mary Pat looked up, fountain pen poised above the pad. “Sir?”

“Dr. Miller said she found this connection easily,” Ryan said. “But she’s obviously downplaying her intelligence.”

“True,” Canfield said. “She’s one of our brightest.”

“If it was too easy, I’d worry the information was worthless.” Ryan looked up at the ceiling and groaned. “We need to handle this quietly. Mary Pat, how well do you know the director general of ONA?”

“Rodney Henderson,” Foley said. “He’s new. But our interactions have been positive.”

Australia’s Office of National Assessments was often considered a combination of the ODNI and the Department of State’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research. ONA’s director general could tap into intelligence data from the Australian Secret Intelligence Service, its domestic intelligence counterparts, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, other members of the intelligence community, and, to a lesser extent, the Australian Federal Police.

“Very well,” Ryan said. “Reach out to Mr. Henderson and let him know we’re interested in this Cromwell Telecom.”

Burgess’s right hand formed a clenched fist on the table, an outward expression of his desire to hit China hard. “This makes a damn good case that Zhao is responsible for orchestrating the attack in Chad.”

Ryan nodded. “It’s thin,” he said. “But it does look that way at first blush. I’ll be interested to see what Director Foley finds out about that telecom.”

The President turned toward van Damm before Burgess could convince him to kick President Zhao in the nuts the next time they met — which, admittedly, would not take much at the moment.

“Let’s switch gears and talk about the Orion for a minute,” Ryan said. “Any more evidence that there was a bomb on the ship?”

The chief of staff looked at his notes. “Nothing concrete. The ship is setting in six hundred feet of water. The Navy intends to send a mini-ROV down tomorrow when the seas calm. That should give us a preliminary look at the hull until they get a larger submersible on scene.”

“Update on injuries?” Ryan asked.

“Ten dead,” van Damm said. “The remaining crew members suffering from various injuries, badly shaken, but alive.”

“Butcher’s bill would have been a lot higher but for the response of the Coast Guard,” Ryan said.

Jay Canfield looked up from his copy of the latest Coast Guard situation report. “A Filipino seaman who was in the engine room during the explosions reported an object the size of a car melting through the roof. He describes it as a huge ball of intensely white flame.”

“That makes sense,” Burgess said, also reading. “The poor guy is blind now. A magnesium fire would account for the Welder’s Fever. He’s suffering from chills and gastrointestinal distress.”

Mary Pat whistled low under her breath. “Magnesium would burn hot enough to melt right through the deck of a ship?”