Jay hesitated a few seconds, slowly accepting the reality that nothing more of substance was going to be said. He was already alarmed by the distance Sheffield had placed between John Harris and the British leadership.
“I have a rented cell phone,” Jay said at last.
“Splendid,” the Deputy PM said, motioning to one of his aides to write down the number Jay repeated.
“Where are you staying, Mr. Reinhart?”
“I… don’t have a hotel yet. I came straight from the airport.”
“Well, I shall be happy to arrange one for you, and transportation to the hotel as well.” Sheffield got to his feet. “I’ll ring you in a few hours.” He began to turn.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sheffield.”
“Yes?” Sheffield turned back, balancing himself with one hand on the table as he waited for the verbal postscript.
“You…indicated you would answer my question when I got here… how did the PM’s office know to expect my call?”
Sheffield laughed. “Oh, that! Well, Mr. Reinhart, let’s just say that we had some advance information that President Harris had retained you, we knew you arrived this morning at Heathrow, and no lawyer in your position would fail to contact Her Majesty’s government. So…”
Jay met the man’s gaze, feeling a small chill run up his back at the obvious sidestep.
“Who told you, sir?”
There was a telling hesitation and a frozen smile.
“I’m not really at liberty to say, Mr. Reinhart. But it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, now does it? Good day, Mr. Reinhart.”
He turned and left before Jay could reply.
“Mr. President?”
John Harris stirred in the first-class seat and opened his right eye, focusing instantly on Sherry Lincoln’s face hovering over him.
“Yes, Sherry?”
“I hate to wake you.”
He sat up and stretched. “I’m not sure I was really asleep. What time is it?”
She sat down next to him. “After three P.M. I just spoke with Jay Reinhart, and he’s waiting for the British Prime Minister’s office to ring him. In a nutshell, he says that based on what the Italian foreign minister told Captain Swanson, we’re safe here until tomorrow, and he’s worried about what the British may decide to do. So he wants us to wait until morning before flying to London.”
“Oh wonderful! Another night at the Boeing Arms Hotel.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I know it! And I can’t find a working shower on the entire plane.”
“Swanson is okay with this?”
“That’s another reason to wake you, sir,” she replied. “Captain Swanson is coming across the ramp as we speak. He called ten minutes ago and told us to wake the pilots and stand by. He wouldn’t say why.”
Craig Dayton met Captain Swanson at the top of the airstairs and escorted him to the President immediately.
“We’ve got to get you out of here, sir,” Swanson announced. “Apparently, Mr. Campbell has convinced a judge to declare this ramp under exclusive Italian control. There’s nothing to stop them now.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be a ruling until tomorrow! Why did the judge issue the order early?”
“I don’t know, Mr. President, but I was told the judge has probably already signed the order, or whatever they do here in Italy. When my commander and the Pentagon get the word, I fully expect I’ll be ordered to stand aside and let them come aboard and arrest you.”
“Captain,” the President said, “who relayed all this to you?”
“An assistant to the Italian foreign minister. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten the name, but it’s back in my office.”
“That’s okay,” Harris said, rubbing his chin in thought, then looking squarely at Glen Swanson. “You feel the call was authentic?”
“Yes, sir. He seemed to know everything I would expect him to know in that position. He knew about my earlier call from Mr. Anselmo.”
“All right.”
“And I know he was calling from Rome because of the operator.”
“How long do we have?” Harris asked.
“I don’t know, but I would expect them to move rapidly. Having to leave empty-handed yesterday was an affront to the local Carabinieri commander.”
Craig Dayton had been standing behind Swanson and taking in every word.
“We can go, then?” Craig asked, turning and gesturing to the President. “If you’re ready, that is, sir.”
“You can depart anytime,” Swanson said. “We did fuel the airplane, right?”
Craig nodded. “Yes. Late last night. But, Captain, I need to know whether I’m going to have problems getting an air traffic control clearance to London. I mean, the clearance will come from Euro Control, which is in Brussels, but Rome Control could ask them to block us.”
“I doubt that will happen,” Swanson said, “but I wouldn’t advise you to wait and test Rome’s resolve. And there’s another reason I think you need to go immediately. This is Sicily, and… quite frankly, Rome is only marginally in control here. When the Carabinieri are thwarted at something, the results can be unpredictable.”
“I don’t understand,” the President said.
“Remember, sir, that we’re still subject to their jurisdiction. I’d just rather get you out of here as soon as possible.”
Craig looked at John Harris, Sherry Lincoln, and Matt Ward, then back at the President.
“Mr. President?” he asked, waiting for the response.
John Harris sat deeply in thought, his chin resting on his hands. After a few moments he took a deep breath and looked up at Craig. “Okay, I’m ready. Even if Jay’s concerns are right about London, I’d rather take a chance on them than stay in Italy. The one loose end is getting another plane chartered to take the veterans and their families back to Rome.”
“I’ll handle that, sir,” Swanson said.
The President turned to Swanson. “Captain, if you think it’s safe to do so, I want to walk into the terminal and talk to General Glueck and his group.”
“I’ll make sure we seal the doors, sir. It will be safe.” He raised his handheld radio and gave the appropriate orders before escorting the President into the terminal and placing the PA microphone in his hand.
Folks, may I have your attention?
John Harris’s voice carried through the large passenger lounge as he stood by one of the doors to the ramp and held the microphone. Most of the forty-four members of the group had been picking through a buffet table set up at the far end of the terminal. They turned now and moved toward the President as he waited for them to gather.
I wanted to come in personally and talk to you. I have decided to head for London and battle this fraudulent Peruvian legal action from there. I know you all volunteered to come with me, but that’s not necessary now, thanks to what you’ve already accomplished.
We’re arranging another charter flight to get you to Rome this evening, but I want to tell you again how deeply I appreciate your loyalty to the office I once held, to your country, and by association, to me personally. Your decision to forgo that flight back to Rome and stand with me here has made a critical difference, and I’m more than humbled that you would massively impact this marvelous once-in-a-lifetime tour of yours to stand with me in an hour of need.
There was an immediate murmur of approval followed by applause, which John Harris waved down gently.
Please… let me finish. I know that… there was considerable concern that the White House was abandoning me, but that’s not so. President Cavanaugh had a difficult decision to make, and he made it for the good of our nation, and I applaud him for that. It would have been easier to fly off with that C-17, but he felt that both the United States, and this particular former President, would be viewed as cynically evading an international process we, ourselves, helped to create. He’s right.