‘I don’t think Washington Provident will be offering Fitzgerald a job after all’
‘Good. Why don’t we leave it for three days, then you can tell him about his new assignment.’
‘Why wait three days?’
‘You’ve obviously never read Freud’s paper on maximum vulnerability.’
We are sorry to inform you …
Connor was reading the letter for the third time when the phone on his desk rang. He felt numb with disbelief. What could possibly have gone wrong? The dinner at the Thompsons’ home couldn’t have been more agreeable. When he and Maggie left a few minutes before midnight, Ben had suggested a round of golf at Burning Tree the following weekend, and Elizabeth Thompson had asked Maggie to drop by for coffee while the men were out chasing little white balls. The next day his lawyer had rung to say that the contract Washington Provident had sent for his approval needed no more than a few minor adjustments.
Connor picked up the phone.
‘Yes, Joan.’
‘I have the Deputy Director on the line.’
‘Put him through,’ he said wearily.
‘Connor?’ said a voice he had never trusted. ‘Something important has come up, and the Director’s asked me to brief you immediately.’
‘Of course,’ said Connor, not really taking in Gutenburg’s words.
‘Shall we make it three o’clock, the usual place?’
‘Of course,’ Connor repeated. He was still holding the phone long after he had heard the click. He read the letter for a fourth time, and decided not to tell Maggie about it until he had been shortlisted for another job.
Connor was the first to arrive in Lafayette Square. He sat down on a bench facing the White House. A few minutes later Nick Gutenburg took a seat on the other end of the bench. Connor took care not to even glance in his direction.
‘The President himself requested that you should take on this assignment,’ murmured Gutenburg, looking fixedly in the direction of the White House. ‘He wanted our best man.’
‘But I’m due to leave the Company in ten days’ time,’ said Connor.
‘Yes, the Director told him. But the President insisted that we do everything in our power to convince you to stay until this assignment has been completed.’
Connor remained silent.
‘Connor, the outcome of the elections in Russia could affect the future of the free world. If that lunatic Zerimski is elected, it would mean a return to the Cold War overnight. The President could forget his Arms Reduction Bill, and Congress would be demanding an increase in the defence budget that could bankrupt us.’
‘But Zerimski’s still way behind in the polls,’ said Connor. ‘Isn’t Chernopov expected to win comfortably?’
‘That’s how it may look right now,’ said Gutenburg. ‘But there are still three weeks to go, and the President’ - he emphasised the word while continuing to stare at the White House - ‘feels that with an electorate that volatile, anything could happen. He’d be a lot happier knowing you were out there, just in case your particular expertise is needed.’
Connor didn’t respond.
‘If it’s your new job you’re worrying about,’ continued Gutenburg, ‘I’d be happy to have a word with the Chairman of the company you’re joining and explain to him that it’s only a short-term assignment.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ said Connor. ‘But I’ll need a little time to think about it.’
‘Of course,’ said Gutenburg. ‘When you’ve made up your mind, please call the Director and let her know your decision.’ He rose and walked away in the direction of Farragut Square.
Three minutes later, Connor strolled off in the opposite direction.
Andy Lloyd picked up the red phone. This time he recognised the voice immediately.
‘I’m almost certain I know who carried out the assignment in Bogota,’ said Jackson.
Was he working for the CIA?’ Lloyd asked.