Corrine had arranged her schedule today so she could start by going to the dentist. Not among the most pleasant ways of beginning a day, though it had one benefit: She could stay in bed until seven, since her dentist’s office didn’t open until eight. So when the phone rang at six, her response was to curse and roll over in bed, trying to ignore it.
Then she realized it was her secure satellite phone that was ringing. She grabbed for it, hoping it was The Cube telling her that Ferguson had just shown up in some bar in South Korea.
But it wasn’t The Cube.
“Stand by for the president,” said the operator.
“Well, dear, I hope I did not get you out of bed too early,” said McCarthy a moment later.
“No, sir.”
“Good. We are on our way to Green Bay this morning to see some dear friends and even more fervent enemies, so I wanted to make sure I caught you early. You have been following the information the CIA has developed out of Korea, I would imagine.”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
“Good. What do you make of that bucket of string beans?”
“Twisted and gnarled,” she said. “As your grandmother would say.”
“She put it that way many times,” said the president. There was a faint hint of nostalgia in his voice, as if he were picturing her in his mind. The tone always accompanied that expression, which he used at least twice a week. Corrine had never been able to determine if it was genuine or just part of his shtick. Perhaps it was both.
“I wonder if you would mind doing me a favor today?” McCarthy added.
“Sir?”
“I wonder if you would sit in on a briefing that is being arranged for the Security Council this morning. I believe the time is eleven. You may have to check on that.”
“That’s not in my job description, Mr. President.”
“Well, now, are we going to have the job description conversation again, Miss Alston?”
She could practically see his smile.
“It would be unusual for me to attend,” she said.
“Well now, tongues may wag. That is very true,” said McCarthy before turning serious. “I want you there to consider the implications of our treaty with the North. Officially.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unofficially, of course, the information may be useful to you in your dealings with our First Team. And as always I would appreciate your perspective. Now, dear, this all may well prove to be a wild rumor,” continued the president. “The timing of it seems very suspicious to me. Consider: the North has been making conciliatory gestures over the past year. The dictator is rumored to be ill. All of this is not a context for planning an invasion. Assuming they are sane, which some might argue is a poor assumption.”
“I’d agree with that.”
“Well, now, of course we must take it very seriously. Very, very seriously, dear. And one of the things that taking it seriously entails . . .”
The president paused. That was part of his shtick, to make sure the listener didn’t miss what followed.
“. . . would be not doing anything that would entice action by the North Koreans.”
“Understood, Mr. President. The portion of, uh, the matter in North Korea that might have caused concern has concluded. The results so far appear negative.”
“Very good timing, Miss Alston. And on our other matter, regarding the Republic of Korea?”
“We’re still working on it. Nothing new.”
“Very well. Do your best.”
Corrine put down the phone and got out of bed to start the coffee.
Oh, well, she thought to herself as she headed to the kitchen, at least I don’t have to go to the dentist.