IT WAS A raw, unyielding day. Snow lay on the ground. The air was a cold, bone-chilling mist. Rows of headstones ran down a slope under the silhouettes of leafless trees.
The chapel was crowded. A marquee had been set up in front of it to take the overflow. Family, friends, former associates from Bob’s days as a lawyer, senatorial colleagues and State Department officials had come to pay their last respects. The marquee was underheated in the freezing air and people shivered. The president gave a eulogy in the chapel. So did Alvin Burr, Bob Livingstone’s closest friend in the Senate. Bob’s eldest, Robert junior, had spoken first. He was Robert junior no longer, he said. He wished he still was.
Then they all came out into the mist and walked over the snowy ground, through the headstones, to the open mouth of the waiting grave.
The president and first lady stood alongside Alicia Livingstone and her three sons. Bob’s casket rested on the ground as the last words were said. Tom Knowles’ Secret Service detail tried to look inconspicuous. Two stood immediately behind the president, others in the crowd, others off amongst the headstones, constantly scanning the cemetery.
Marion Ellman gazed at Bob’s casket. Slowly it was lowered.
She glanced at the president. He stood with hands clasped, a grim frown on his face.
Alicia and the three boys stepped forward and each dropped a lily into the grave. The gentle tap of each one as it hit the top of the coffin was audible in the stillness.
Alicia stood over the casket for a last moment, then turned away.
The president took her arm, and said something, and Alicia nodded, wiping with a tissue at her tears. The first lady said something to her as well while the president spoke with each of the sons, solemnly shaking their hands in turn.
Others waited to say a word to the widow. For a couple of minutes the president shook hands with the mourners nearby. As Marion waited her turn to speak with Alicia, she saw Knowles turn. His security detail closed up around him and the first lady. The crowd made way as they began to move off.
Marion watched him for a moment. Suddenly she stepped out of the crowd and called out.
The sound of her own voice startled her. In the frigid air, it sounded too loud.
The president looked around. Everyone was watching. He smiled when he saw who it was. His security detail didn’t. Two of them were coming towards her.
He told them who she was. The two men backed away, still eyeing her suspiciously.
Marion went closer. ‘Sir, I need to speak with you.’
‘Now?’
Marion nodded.
‘Go ahead.’
‘It’s sensitive, sir.’
The president glanced around. ‘Let’s go over there.’
They headed out into the snow amongst the gravestones. Marion was conscious of the crowd of mourners still watching them.
Knowles stopped. He looked at her expectantly.
Now that she was at the point, she hesitated. She hadn’t even imagined doing this. It hadn’t been rehearsed, not even in her head. She was shaking.
‘Cold, huh?’ said the president, noticing her trembling. ‘Hell of a day. My God, one hell of a day.’
‘There’s something I have to tell you.’
‘About Bob. He was a good guy, wasn’t he?’
Marion nodded. Bob Livingstone had told her that you couldn’t just tell Tom Knowles anything. But Bob was dead.
She drew a deep breath. It came out freezing in front of her.
‘Mr President, what you’re doing is wrong. Your approach, your strategy. They’re wrong.’
Knowles looked at her in bemusement. ‘What I’m doing about what?’
‘About what’s happening. About China.’
‘You think so, do you?’
‘Mr President, maybe it’s not my place but someone has to tell you. You’re taking us into confrontation with that country and it is not a confrontation either side is going to win. Not us, not them. You’ve misjudged them. You’re giving them no option but to come back at us every time you say something. You’re escalating this and you’re leading us and them into a trap and if you keep going pretty soon there’s going to be no way out.’
The president stared at her.
‘You can ask for my resignation. I don’t care. I’m going to resign anyway.’
‘Whoa! Hold up. Let’s not make any hasty decision.’
‘It’s not a hasty decision. Someone has to tell you, sir. Someone has to make you listen.’
‘And you think resigning’s going to do that?’
‘No, resigning’s going to stop me having to act in a way that I think is the exact opposite of this country’s best interests. Resigning is going to allow me to speak publicly. We’re in a lose-lose situation. We have to get out of it.’
The president folded his arms. ‘What would you do if you were me?’
‘We need to be actively seeking collaboration. We need a different approach. We could have done that over South Africa but we didn’t.’
‘So could they.’
‘True. I’m not saying they’re better. They’re as bad as us, sir.’
‘As bad as us?’
‘This isn’t a temporary, tactical situation we’re in. Things have changed in our world, Mr President. We’re going to keep beating each other up unless we change as well.’
‘Do you think that’s what they think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Bob said you’d had a conversation with the Chinese ambassador.’
‘That’s true. I sent you my report. My impression is that Zhang’s under pressure.’
‘What kind of pressure?’
‘You’re not afraid to admit when you don’t know, are you?’
‘Do you prefer people who are?’
The president smiled for a second. ‘No. I don’t.’
‘Sir, there’s someone I think you should meet. His name’s Joel Ehrenreich. He’s just written a book that is one of the best analyses of US–China relations that I’ve read in the last several years.’
The president frowned. ‘Not sure I recognize the name.’
‘He’s at Yale.’
The president looked at Ellman thoughtfully. ‘Marion, no one’s telling me I’m wrong.’
‘I am.’
‘But no one else is.’
‘And that’s your problem, sir. That, in a nutshell, is your problem.’
Knowles looked away over the headstones. ‘Why haven’t I heard any of this from you before?’
‘Ask Gary Rose. It’s not for want of trying.’
Knowles was silent.
‘Mr President, you should meet Joel Ehrenreich. You should listen to what he has to say. Now. Today. Before you do anything else.’
The president glanced at his security detail. They were watching him. He looked back at Ellman. ‘Marion, I don’t think this is the time to be talking to academics. You can send me the book.’
‘No, sir. Normally I’d agree with you. But there are times when someone who’s outside the fray – someone whose perspective isn’t over the course of a year or an election cycle but takes a generational view of things – sometimes there are times when that’s a good perspective.’
The president gazed at Ellman. ‘Send me the book,’ he said, and turned and walked away.
‘Mr President!’
He stopped and looked back at her.
Marion Ellman had nothing to lose. The timing, she realized, had decided itself.
She came closer to him. ‘You asked me what I would do. I haven’t been involved in your discussions. But if I had to guess, I’d guess you’ve spent an awful lot of time talking about what we want the Chinese to do.’
She pointed at him, right at the chest, like a teacher to a pupil. ‘You need to spend some time thinking about what the Chinese want from us.’
THERE WAS SILENCE in the car on the ride back to the airport. Sarah gazed out the window. The president pondered the conversation he had just had with the UN ambassador. It had reared up out of nowhere and kicked him in the teeth.
But he didn’t have time to reflect on it. The ride to Air Force One was a short one. Almost as soon as he had boarded the plane for the flight to Nevada a call came through from General Hale.
‘Mr President,’ said the general, ‘we know where they are.’