13

When Marcus was gone, Clarke turned to Stephens.

“Not exactly a wallflower, is he?” the president asked.

“No, sir,” said Stephens.

McDermott had to agree. Marcus had never been shy about speaking his mind.

“But he’s right about Reed,” General Evans interjected. “Bill and I discussed him last night on a secure call to Berlin with Secretary Whitney. We all think he’d be ideal.”

The president looked to McDermott. “Meg’s already on board?”

“One hundred percent,” McDermott said. “And she recommends we move fast.”

“How fast?”

“She’d like to order Reed back to Washington immediately and make a formal announcement in the next few days.”

“Why the rush?”

“She believes it would send a strong message that you won’t be intimidated by terrorists or let your agenda be derailed.”

“And you agree?”

“I do, sir.”

“Any red flags?” Clarke asked the CIA director.

Stephens shook his head. “None. Reed was thoroughly vetted before being sent to Russia, and he’s performed ably every day since.”

“Fine. Get him and his family on a plane pronto,” Clarke said.

“Will do, sir,” Evans responded. “Now can we talk about your speech?”

“Forget it,” Clarke said. “I’m going to Jerusalem, and that’s final.”

“Sir, Ryker does have a point,” Evans noted.

“I don’t want to hear it, Barry. You guys do your jobs and I’ll be just fine,” Clarke pushed back. “You leave for the region tomorrow night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jerusalem first?”

“Actually, I go to Ramallah first, then double back and meet with the Israelis.”

“Then what?”

“Amman, Manama, Doha, Abu Dhabi, Muscat, Riyadh, and Cairo —followed by London, Paris, and Moscow.”

“Twelve cities in ten days? Goodness,” said Clarke. “You’re certainly working awfully hard for a peace plan you don’t really believe in.”

McDermott was stunned by how cold the comment was.

“I do believe in it, sir,” Evans said calmly.

“No, you don’t, Barry, and you haven’t from the beginning.”

“With respect, sir, I believe the plan is not only impressive but historic.”

“And yet . . . ?”

McDermott shifted in his seat. He’d spent hours discussing the general’s deep concerns with him, even encouraging Evans to be more forthcoming with the president about those concerns. But this hardly seemed the time or the place. Shouldn’t the president discuss this with General Evans one-on-one?

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” asked the general, ever the military man.

“Come on, Barry —just say what you have to say,” the president ordered.

“Sir, my team and I drafted this plan, just as you asked. But I’ve maintained from the beginning that the timing is wrong. Neither the Israelis nor the Palestinian leadership are ready to make peace. But honestly, it’s not the Israelis I’m most worried about at the moment. It’s the Palestinians.”

“Why?”

“Because they have no interest in coming back to the negotiating table right now. And frankly, to Ryker’s point, I’m worried we could see an explosion of new terrorism, perhaps even another Palestinian intifada.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Barry. This is precisely the moment to unveil this plan. The Russians, North Koreans, and Iranians are back on their heels. The Gulf States are warming toward Israel. The Israelis know I love them and won’t let any harm come to them. And the Palestinian regime is weak and divided and desperate to give something concrete to their people. That’s why we need to go on offense —now. So I don’t want to hear any more of this talk about changing venues. I’m going to Jerusalem. And that’s final.”