‘What shall I charge him with?’ asked Pleskov innocently.
‘Anything you like, from fraud to murder,’ said Zerimski. ‘Just be sure it sticks.’
Pleskov was already looking a little apprehensive. It would have been easier if the boss had simply ordered him to kill the man.
Zerimski’s eye circled the table. ‘Lev,’ he said, turning to another man who had remained blindly loyal to him. ‘I shall give you responsibility for the other half of my law and order programme.’
Lev Shulov looked nervous, unsure if he should be grateful for what he was about to receive.
‘You are to be my new Justice Minister.’
Shulov smiled.
‘Let me make it clear that there is far too much of a logjam in the courts at present. Appoint a dozen or so new judges. Be sure they are all long-standing Party members. Begin by explaining to them that I have only two policies when it comes to law and order: shorter trials and longer sentences. And I am keen to make an example of someone newsworthy in the first few days of my presidency, to leave no doubt about the fate of those who cross me.’
‘Did you have anyone in mind, Mr President?’
‘Yes,’ replied Zerimski. ‘You will remember...’ There was a quiet knock on the door. Everyone turned to see who dared to interrupt the new President’s first cabinet meeting. Dmitri Titov entered noiselessly, gambling that Zerimski would have been even more annoyed not to be interrupted. The President drummed his fingers on the table as Titov walked the length of the room, then bent down and whispered in his ear.
Zerimski immediately burst out laughing. The rest of them wanted to join in, but were unwilling to until they had heard the joke. He looked up at his colleagues. ‘The President of the United States is on the line. It seems that he wishes to congratulate me.’ Now they all felt able to join in the laughter.
‘My next decision as your leader is whether I should put him on hold — for another three years...’ They all laughed even louder, except for Titov, ‘...or whether I should take the call.’
No one offered an opinion.
‘Shall we find out what the man wants?’ asked Zerimski. They all nodded. Titov picked up the phone by his side and handed it to his boss.
‘Mr President,’ said Zerimski.
‘No, sir,’ came back the immediate reply. ‘My name is Andy Lloyd. I am the White House Chief of Staff. May I put you through to President Lawrence?’
‘No, you may not,’ said Zerimski angrily. ‘Tell your President next time he calls to be on the end of the line himself, because I don’t deal with messenger boys.’ He slammed the phone down, and they all laughed again.
‘Now, what was I saying?’
Shulov volunteered. ‘You were about to tell us, Mr President, who should be made an example of in order to demonstrate the new discipline of the Justice Department.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Zerimski, the smile returning to his lips just as the phone rang again.
Zerimski pointed at his Chief of Staff, who picked up the receiver.
‘Would it be possible,’ a voice enquired, ‘to speak to President Zerimski?’
‘Who’s calling him?’ asked Titov.
‘Tom Lawrence.’
Titov handed the receiver to his boss. ‘The President of the United States,’ was all he said. Zerimski nodded and took the phone.
‘Is that you, Victor?’
‘This is President Zerimski. Who am I addressing?’
‘Tom Lawrence,’ said the President, raising an eyebrow to the Secretary of State and the White House Chief of Staff, who were listening in on their extensions.
‘Good morning. What can I do for you?’
‘I was just calling to add my congratulations to all the others you must be receiving after your impressive’ — Lawrence had wanted say ‘unexpected’, but the State Department had counselled against it — ‘victory. A very close-run thing. But everyone in politics experiences that problem from time to time.’
‘It’s not a problem I will experience again,’ said Zerimski. Lawrence laughed, assuming this was meant to be funny. He wouldn’t have done so if he could have seen the stony-faced looks of those seated around the cabinet table in the Kremlin.
Lloyd whispered, ‘Keep going.’
‘The first thing I’d like to do is get to know you a little better, Victor.’
‘Then you will have to start by understanding that only my mother calls me by my first name.’
Lawrence looked down at the notes spread across his desk. His eye settled on Zerimski’s full name, Victor Leonidovich. He underlined ‘Leonidovich’, but Larry Harrington shook his head.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Lawrence. ‘How would you like me to address you?’
‘The same way you would expect anyone you don’t know to address you.’
Though they could hear only one side of it, those seated around the table in Moscow were enjoying the first encounter between the two leaders. Those in the Oval Office were not.
‘Try a different tack, Mr President,’ suggested the Secretary of State, cupping a hand over his phone.
Tom Lawrence glanced down at Andy Lloyd’s prepared questions and skipped a page. ‘I was hoping it wouldn’t be too long before we could find an opportunity to meet. Come to think of it,’ he added, ‘it’s rather surprising that we haven’t bumped into each other before now.’
‘It’s not all that surprising,’ said Zerimski. ‘When you last visited Moscow, in June, your Embassy failed to issue me or any of my colleagues with an invitation to the dinner that was held for you.’ There were murmurs of support from around the table.
‘Well, I’m sure you know only too well that on overseas trips one is very much in the hands of one’s local officials...’
‘I shall be interested to see which of those local officials you feel need replacing after such a fundamental miscalculation.’ Zerimski paused. ‘Starting with your Ambassador, perhaps.’
There followed another long silence while the three men in the Oval Office checked through the questions they had assiduously prepared. So far they had not anticipated one of Zerimski’s replies.
‘I can assure you,’ Zerimski added, ‘that I will not be allowing any of my officials, local or otherwise, to overrule my personal wishes.’
‘Lucky man,’ said Lawrence, giving up bothering with any of the prepared answers.
‘Luck is not a factor I ever take into consideration,’ said Zerimski. ‘Especially when it comes to dealing with my opponents.’
Larry Harrington was beginning to look desperate, but Andy Lloyd scribbled a question on a pad and pushed it under the President’s nose. Lawrence nodded.
‘Perhaps we should try to arrange an early meeting so that we can get to know each other a little better?’
The White House trio sat waiting for the offer to be robustly rejected.
‘I’ll give that my serious consideration,’ said Zerimski, to everyone’s surprise, at both ends. ‘Why don’t you tell Mr Lloyd to get in touch with Comrade Titov, who is responsible for organising my meetings with foreign leaders.’
‘I certainly will,’ said Lawrence, feeling relieved. ‘I’ll ask Andy Lloyd to call Mr Titov in the next couple of days.’ Lloyd scribbled another note, and handed it to him. It read: ‘And of course I would be happy to visit Moscow.’
‘Goodbye, Mr President,’ said Zerimski.
‘Goodbye — Mr President,’ Lawrence replied.
As Zerimski put the phone down, he stalled the inevitable round of applause by quickly turning to his Chief of Staff and saying, ‘When Lloyd rings, he will propose that I visit Washington. Accept the offer.’
His Chief of Staff looked surprised.
‘I am determined,’ said the President, turning back to his colleagues, ‘that Lawrence should realise as soon as possible what sort of man he is dealing with. More importantly, I wish the American public to find out for themselves.’ He placed his fingers together. ‘I intend to begin by making sure that Lawrence’s Arms Reduction Bill is defeated on the floor of the Senate. I can’t think of a more appropriate Christmas present to give... Tom.’