“Very well. What are the chances for success?” Chief of Staff Arnold van Damm asked. He had to be there, of course. This was more an exercise in politics than statecraft. The downside political risk was serious, just as the reward for success would be more than noteworthy.
“Sir, there are no guarantees for operations of this kind. If something is said, it is likely that we'll know what it is, but he might not even discuss the matter at all. The equipment has all been tested. It works. The field officer running this operation is well experienced. He's done touchy ones before.”
“Like?” van Damm asked.
“Like getting Gerasimov's wife and daughter out a few years ago.” Ryan explained on for a minute or so.
“Is the operation worth the risk?” Fowler asked.
That surprised Ryan quite a bit. “Sir, that decision is yours to make.”
“But I asked you for an opinion.”
“Yes, Mr. President, it is. The take we've been getting from NIITAKA shows a considerable degree of arrogance on their part. Something like this might have the net effect of shocking them into playing honest ball with us.”
“You approve of our policy of dealing with Japan?” van Damm asked, just as surprised as Ryan had been a moment earlier.
“My approval or disapproval is beside the point, but the answer to your question is, yes.”
The Chief of Staff was openly amazed. “But the previous administration — how come you never told us?”
“You never asked, Arnie. I don't make government policy, remember? I'm a spook. I do what you tell me to do, as long as it's legal.”
“You're satisfied on the legality of the operation?” Fowler asked, with a barely suppressed smile.
“Mr. President, you're the lawyer, not me. If I do not know the legal technicalities — and I don't — I must assume that you, as an officer of the court, are not ordering me to break the law.”
“That's the best dance number I've seen since the Kirov Ballet was in the Kennedy Center last summer,” van Damm observed, with a laugh.
“Ryan, you know all the moves. You have my approval,” Fowler said, after a brief pause. “If we get what we expect, then what?”
“We have to go over that with the State Department guys,” Liz Elliot announced.
“That is potentially dangerous,” Ryan observed. “The Japanese have been hiring a lot of the people from the trade-negotiation section. We have to assume that they have people inside.”
“Commercial espionage?” Fowler asked.
“Sure, why not? NIITAKA has never given us hard evidence of that, but if I were a bureaucrat looking to leave government service and make half a mill' a year representing them — like a lot of them do — how would I present myself to them as a potentially valuable asset? I'd do it the same way a Soviet official or spook presents bonafides to us. You deliver something juicy up-front. That's illegal, but we're not devoting any assets to looking at the problem. For that reason, wide dissemination of the information from this operation is very dangerous. Obviously you'll want the opinion of Secretary Talbot and a few others, but I'd be really careful how much farther you spread it. Also, remember that if you tell the PM that you know what he said — and if he knows he only said it in one place — you run the risk of compromising this intelligence-gathering technique.” The President accepted that without anything more than a raised eyebrow.
“Make it look like a leak in Mexico?” van Damm asked.
“That's the obvious ploy,” Ryan agreed.
“And if I confront him with it directly?” Fowler asked.
“Kind of hard to beat a straight flush, Mr. President. And if this were ever to leak, Congress would go ballistic. That's one of my problems. I'm required to discuss this operation with Al Trent and Sam Fellows. Sam will play ball, but Al has political reasons to dislike the Japanese.”
“I could order you not to tell him…”
“Sir, that's one law I may not break for any reason.”
“I might have to give you that order,” Fowler observed.
Ryan was surprised again. Both he and the President knew what the consequences of that order would be. Just what Cathy had in mind. It might, in fact, be a fine excuse to leave government service.
“Well, maybe that won't be necessary. I'm tired of playing patty-cake with these people. They made an agreement, and they're going to keep it or have to deal with a very irate President. Worse than that, the idea that someone can suborn the President of a country in so venal a way is contemptible. God damn it! I hate corruption.”
“Right on, boss,” van Damm commented. “Besides, the voters will like it.”
“That bastard,” Fowler went on, after a moment. Ryan couldn't tell how much of this was real and how much feigned. “He tells me he's coming over to work out a few details, get acquainted some more, and what he's really planning is to welsh on a deal. Well, we'll see about that. I guess it's time he learned about hardball.” The discourse stopped. “Ryan, I missed you last night.”
“My wife got a headache, sir. Had to leave. Sorry.”
“Feeling all right now?”
“Yes, sir, thank you.”
“Turn your people loose.”
Ryan stood. “Will do, Mr. President.”
Van Damm followed him out and walked him to the West Entrance. “Nice job, Jack.”
“Gee, they going to start liking me?” Jack asked wryly. The meeting had gone much too well.
“I don't know what happened last night, but Liz is really pissed at your wife.”
“They talked about something, but I don't know what.”
“Jack, you want it straight?” van Damm asked.
Ryan knew that the friendly walk to the door was just too convenient, and the symbolism was explicit enough, wasn't it? “When, Arnie?”
“I'd like to say it's just business and not personal, but it is personal. I'm sorry, Jack, but it happens. The President will give you a glowing sendoff.”
“Nice of him,” Jack replied matter-of-factly.
“I tried, Jack. You know I like you. These things happen.”
“I'll go quietly. But—”
“I know. No back-shots on the way out or after you're gone. You'll be asked in periodically, maybe draw some special missions, liaison stuff. You get an honorable discharge. On that, Jack, you have my word of honor, and the President's. He's not a bad guy, Jack, really he isn't. He's a tough-minded son-of-a-bitch and a good politician, but he's as honest as any man I know. It's just that your way of thinking and his way of thinking are different — and he's the President.”
Jack could have said that the mark of intellectual honesty is the solicitation of opposing points of view. Instead, he said, “Like I said, I'll go quietly. I've been doing this long enough. It's time to relax a little, smell the roses and play with the kids.”
“Good man.” Van Damm patted his arm. “You bring this job off and your going-away statement from the Boss will sparkle. We'll have Callie Weston write it, even.”
“You stroke like a pro, Arnie.” Ryan shook his hand and walked off to his car. Van Damm would have been surprised to see the smile on his face.