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They gathered at a White House dinner party to honor the Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Gandhi, who was on a goodwill tour of the United States. Actors and labor leaders, athletes and billionaires, they all shed their opinions, their differences, and mingled like neighbors at a Sunday social.
Former Presidents Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter conversed and acted as though they had never left the West Wing. Standing in a corner filled with flowers, Secretary of State Douglas Oates swapped war stories with Henry Kissinger, while the Super Bowl champion quarterback of the Houston Oilers stood in front of the fireplace and peered openly at the breasts of ABC news anchor Sandra Malone.
The President shared a toast with Prime Minister Gandhi and then introduced him to Charles Murphy, who had recently flown over Antarctica in a hot-air balloon. The President's wife came over, took her husband's arm, and pulled him toward the dance floor of the state dining room.
A White House aide caught Dan Fawcett's eye and nodded toward the doorway. Fawcett went over, heard him out, then approached the President. The chain of command was well oiled.
"My apologies, Mr. President, but a courier has just arrived with a congressional bill that requires your signature before midnight."
The President nodded in understanding. There was no bill to sign. It was a code for an urgent message. He excused himself to his wife and went across the hall to a small private office. He paused until Fawcett closed the door before picking up the phone
"This is the President."
"Admiral Sandecker, sir."
"Yes, Admiral, what is it?"
"I have the Chief of Naval Forces in the Caribbean on another line. He has just informed me that one of my people, who vanished with Jessie LeBaron, has been rescued by one of our submarines."
"Has he been identified?"
"It's Dirk Pitt."
"The man must be either indestructible or very lucky," the President said with a touch of relief in his voice. "How soon can we get him here?"
"Admiral Clyde Monfort is holding on the line for authorization to provide priority transport."
"Can you connect me to him?"
"Hold on, sir." There was a second's pause followed by a click.
The President said, "Admiral Monfort, can you hear me?"
"I hear you."
"This is the President. Do you recognize my voice?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"I want Pitt in Washington as fast as you can possibly get him here. Understood?"
"I read you, Mr. President. I'll see that a Navy jet lands him at Andrews Air Force Base before daybreak."
"Spread a security net on this affair, Admiral. Keep the submarine at sea and place the pilots, or anyone else who comes within a hundred yards of Pitt, under confinement for three days."
There was a slight hesitation. "Your orders will be carried out."
"Thank you. Now please let me speak to Admiral Sandecker."
"I'm here, Mr. President."
"You heard? Admiral Monfort will have Pitt at Andrews before dawn."
"I'll personally be on hand to meet him."
"Good. Take him by helicopter to CIA headquarters in Langley. Martin Brogan and representatives from my office and the State Department will be waiting to debrief him."
"He may not be able to shed light on anything."
