Threat Level Black

The President took his putt. It hit the corner of the cup and bounced off to the left. He shook his head as he corralled the ball, then lined up another shot. “Why are they sending this scientist to Moscow?”

“It’s about the only place in the world the Koreans are still welcome,” said Hunter.

They should grab him, Blitz decided. The potential risk of such a weapon-even if it was only used in Korea -was great.

“I think we should move ahead,” he told the others.

Hunter’s face blanched. The President took another putt. It rimmed the cup, then sank down.

“Yes,” said the President, shepherding the ball as it came back. “But this sounds more like the sort of thing the CIA ought to handle.”

Hunter’s face blanched.

“Of course, the FBI should remain involved. You’ve worked together before,” added the President.

“Of course,” said Weber. “We were going to suggest a joint operation.”

Hunter asked who would be lead agency. It was a political faux pas: Had he not asked, he could have claimed sovereignty in any discussion with his CIA counterparts.

“If it’s overseas, I’d prefer the CIA,” said the President.

“Of course,” said Weber quickly. Whatever he lacked in police abilities he made up for in political acumen. He rose from his chair, obviously intent on getting out before Hunter blundered further.

“Stay with me a second, Professor,” the President told Blitz. “I have a few minutes before my next appointment, if John’s timeline is right.”

When the others were gone, the President asked Blitz if he thought the North Korean government would collapse soon.

“Hard to say,” said Blitz. “It might fall apart tomorrow. Then again, no one thought Kim Jong Il would even last this long. We may be talking about this twenty years from now.”

“You and I won’t,” said the President.

“We’re ready for an attack if it comes,” said Blitz.

“You’re still in favor of a preemptive attack, aren’t you?” said the President.

“That’s not what I was in favor of,” said Blitz.

“No?” The President took a shot and missed.

“It would solve certain problems, and create many others,” said Blitz. “Ultimately it doesn’t make sense.”

“But if it did, it would save a lot of lives,” said the President.

Blitz wasn’t about to argue with that.

“Have you found a new head for NADT yet?” asked the President, picking up his golf ball and stowing his putter as he changed the subject.

“I’m still working on Colonel Howe. We’re supposed to have lunch, actually.” Blitz glanced at his watch, more for show than anything else: There was no way now that he’d make the appointment.

“Money not enough?”

“I think the money’s part of the problem,” said Blitz. “I think it may scare him.”

“Tell him he deserves it. More than most of the fat cats running corporations around here who think they’re God’s gift to America.”

“Nonetheless,” said Blitz.

“He can always arrange to take the equivalent of his government salary.”

Blitz frowned, even though he knew D’Amici was only joking. Right or wrong, financial compensation was one way defense contractors and Washington kept score; Howe had to have a salary commensurate with his responsibility or he wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“Who’s your backup?” asked the President.

“ Trieste, I guess,” said Blitz, mentioning a retired two-star Army general whose name had been floated around.

“Not my first choice,” said the President. His tone made it clear Trieste wasn’t even on the list of acceptable candidates.

“What about my former assistant, Howard McIntyre?”

“Way too young for that job,” said the President.

“So is Howe.”

“Howe has considerably more experience, and he’s a hero,” said the President. “And he’s older than Howe-who is a good man; don’t get me wrong.”

“I’ll keep working on Howe,” said Blitz. “I haven’t given up.”

“You think you can control him?” asked the President.

“No,” said Blitz. He didn’t want to control Howe, necessarily, just steer NADT a little more toward the administration’s agenda than in the past.

“Maybe you should take the job yourself,” suggested the President.

That snake pit? Blitz knew he wouldn’t last six months.

“I’m happy where I am,” he said. “We need someone qualified and independent but who won’t come with their own ax to grind-and won’t be in the pocket of people looking to get rich. Howe’s perfect.”

“Be careful, Professor, you may get what you wish for,” said the President.

Chapter 12