The door opened, and on the other side, Ben glimpsed the POTUS himself-the president of the United States.

“Come on in, gang.”

Cartwright, predictably, entered first, though Sarie was racing so hard they almost bumped shoulders passing through the doorway. Albertson followed close behind. Ben was content to be fourth. Meyers moved in the opposite direction, presumably off to prepare a press release.

Sarie and Cartwright sat on the two facing sofas with such speed that Ben wondered if they had assigned seats. Albertson stood at the north end of the room beside the portrait of George Washington. Ben wasn’t sure where to go, but the president gestured toward two high-back Martha Washington-style lolling chairs in front of the fireplace. Ben took the seat on the right. He had noticed during previous meetings that the president always sat on the left. He wasn’t sure why, but given how every move any president made these days was carefully calculated and orchestrated in advance, he was sure there was a reason.

President Kyler was a tall Californian who had managed to maintain his tan even in the often inclement climate of Washington, D.C. He had the sort of distinguished senior-statesman good looks that photographed well on television, an essential these days for anyone hoping to be elected to the highest office in the land.

Ben couldn’t resist smiling when he saw Kyler, even though these days he normally saw him at least once a week. The thrill never died. He had been a huge supporter of Kyler during his campaign, though at certain times and places he’d had to keep it to himself-he didn’t want his own failing senatorial run to impact negatively on Kyler’s. Christina was the one who had singled Kyler out early in the campaign as the best hope for the nation. After his predecessor’s tumultuous, saber-rattling administration, Kyler looked like a much-needed breath of fresh air. He favored all the progressive people-first programs that the previous president had ignored. He pushed education and alternative energy and, best of all, dreamed of augmenting diplomatic missions to ease world tensions and render future invasions and wars unnecessary. His speeches had so inspired Christina that anytime she could spare time from Ben’s campaign, she devoted it to his.

This had become important barely a month after Ben started working for Kyler, when Christina needed a favor. Ben was barely comfortable speaking to the president, much less asking for a favor. He knew how busy the president was and doubted he could find time to do anything for them. He was wrong. Kyler remembered that Christina had been one of his earliest and most ardent supporters. He put her problem at the front of his executive to-do list and had the whole mess cleared up in less than a day. It was hard not to admire someone like that, someone who could take the highest office in the land and still not forget who his friends were. Ben never forgot anyone who had been kind to his beloved wife, especially not someone who had taken time to do her this favor. He owed the president a debt of kindness he would always remember, and which he would be happy to pay back any way he could.

“Please, everyone, take a seat,” the president said. He seemed preoccupied, which was not surprising, given what Ben had just heard.

Kyler had installed a wide-screen video monitor over the fireplace, which Ben knew was capable of receiving every television channel known to mankind, satellite transmissions, closed-circuit transmissions, and just about anything else the president might ever wish to view.

The president launched into the discussion exactly the way Ben had expected-a discussion between two men, the president and his legal counsel. “You’ll forgive me if I’m brief, Ben. There’s a lot going on right now. Not only-”

Admiral Cartwright interrupted. “What’s the latest intel on the stolen suitcase?”

Kyler blinked a moment but remained unflappable and turned to answer the question. Ben marveled at the temerity of a man willing to interrupt the president of the United States.

“Nothing concrete. We had a promising report from a field agent, but he’s been out of contact for over twenty minutes now and we don’t know his location. Seamus McKay.”

“I know McKay,” Ben said, then immediately wished he hadn’t, after every head in the room turned to face him. “It was just a little… I mean, nothing-” He cleared his throat. “I met him once, when I was a senator. Gave him some advice. Seemed like a good, capable man.”

“He’s the best we have,” the president rejoined. “Spent almost two decades in the Middle East. He’s like Superman. James Bond on steroids.”

“But you haven’t heard back from him,” Cartwright said.

“No.”

“I hope someone hasn’t pulled off Superman’s cape.”

“Exactly.” The president paused. “Still, the investigation is ongoing. We have no reason to believe there is any present danger.”

Cartwright made a dismissive noise with his lips.

“The situation in Kuraq concerns me a good deal more. As you know, we’ve had aircraft carriers and troops poised in the Gulf for some time, ready to invade Kuraq if they don’t back off their occupation of the Benzai Strip. They’ve been threatening to instigate a genocidal war against the natives. The UN is still debating, but I’m not going to stand still and do nothing while they slaughter thousands of people.”

“What’s the new development?” Ben asked.

“A Red Cross helicopter on its way to Benzai went down just over the Kuraqi border. We think at least some of the passengers are still alive. But the military leader, Colonel Zuko, won’t give us permission to recover them.”

“Why should he?” Cartwright said. “He’s not blind. He can see you’re preparing to invade. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t grab them all and turn them into hostages.”

“Yes, thank you, that possibility had occurred to us.”

“Then what are you doing about it?”

“Everything we possibly can, Will.” Ben couldn’t help admiring how well Kyler kept his cool, even when being openly challenged by that tinhorn brass hat. He supposed some people might see it as weakness, but Ben admired a man who didn’t need to get into a cockfight to show who was boss. The president of the United States had no need to prove himself. He was the commander in chief, whether Cartwright liked it or not.

“But this isn’t what I wanted to talk with you about, Ben. As you know, the SageTech firm has filed for injunctive relief from federal regulations preventing them from offshore drilling near the coast of Virginia. If they are successful, it could upset my entire energy plan. Are they going to be successful?”

“Predicting the outcome of lawsuits is a fool’s game,” Ben replied.

A corner of the president’s mouth tugged upward. “I must be paying you for something.”

“Here’s the reality of the situation. There are many places SageTech could’ve filed this lawsuit. They undoubtedly chose Virginia because the state’s supreme court leans heavily to the right. Regardless of what happens in the lower courts, it will eventually end up before the state supremes, and some of them might be tempted to vote their politics instead of their legal precedents.”

“But then we could appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court.”

“Yes, but it’s also heavy on the Republican side.”

“They can’t just ignore the law.”

“No. They’ll say the law is unconstitutional and argue that is should be set aside.”

“I assume you’ll have a response.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Now that is what you pay me for.” Ben removed a stapled bundle of papers from his legal pad. “I’ve prepared three drafts exemplifying different approaches we could take. All of them are geared toward one thing.”

“Winning in the Supreme Court.”

“No. Winning everywhere. Because we don’t want a lower-court loss. Even if we can later get it reversed, the press will be all over it, the Speaker of the House will declare it a victory, and your energy plan will suffer.”