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"Just tell the President I'm here," Sandecker cut in, his voice turned to steel. "He'll see me."
The news came so abruptly, so coldly, that Fawcett was startled. "I'll inform the President about Pitt,"
he said slowly.
"Don't bother. If I know, he knows. We're tuned into the same intelligence sources."
"I need time to find out what this is all about," Fawcett said.
"You don't have time," said Sandecker stonily. "The President's nuclear energy bill is coming up for a vote before the Senate tomorrow. Think what might happen if Senator George Pitt is told the President had a hand in murdering his son. I don't have to paint you a picture of what will happen when the senator stops throwing his weight in support of presidential policies and starts opposing them."
Fawcett was shrewd enough to recognize an ambush looming in the distance. He pushed himself back from the desk, clasped his hands and stared at them for a few moments. Then he stood and walked toward the hallway.
"Come with me, Admiral. The President is in a meeting with Defense Secretary Jess Simmons. They should be wrapping up about now."
Sandecker waited outside the Oval Office while Fawcett entered, pardoned himself, and spoke a few whispered words to the President. Two minutes later Jess Simmons came out and exchanged a friendly greeting with the admiral, followed by Fawcett, who motioned for him to come in.
The President came from behind his desk and shook Sandecker's hand. His face was expressionless, his body loose and composed, and his intelligent eyes locked on the hard, burning stare of his visitor.
He turned to Fawcett. "Would you please excuse us, Dan? I'd like to speak with Admiral Sandecker privately."
Wordlessly Fawcett stepped out and closed the door behind him. The President gestured toward a chair and smiled. "Why don't we sit down and relax."
"I'd rather stand," Sandecker said flatly.
"As you wish." The President eased into an overstuffed armchair and crossed his legs. "I'm sorry about Pitt and the others," he said without preamble. "No one meant for it to happen."
"May I respectfully ask what in hell is going on?"
"Tell me something, Admiral. Would you believe that when I asked for your cooperation in sending out a crew on the blimp it went far beyond a mere hunt for a missing person?"
"Only if there was a solid explanation to back you up."
"And would you also believe that besides looking for her husband, Mrs. LeBaron was part of an elaborate deception to open a direct line of communication between myself and Fidel Castro?"
Sandecker stared at the President, his anger momentarily placed on hold. The admiral was not awed in the least by the nation's leader. He had seen too many Presidents come and go, seen too many of their human frailties. He could not think of one he'd have set on a pedestal.
"No, Mr. President, I can't buy that," he said, his tone sarcastic. "If my memory serves me, you have a very capable Secretary of State in Douglas Oates, who is backed by an occasionally efficient State Department. I'd have to say they're better equipped to communicate with Castro through existing diplomatic channels."
The President smiled wryly. "There are times negotiations between unfriendly countries must deviate from normal standards of statesmanship. Surely, you must believe that."
"I do."
"You don't involve yourself with politics, matters of state, Washington social parties, cronies or cliques, do you, Admiral?"
"That's right."
"But if I gave you an order, you'd obey it."
"Yes, sir, I would," Sandecker replied without hesitation. "Unless, of course, it was illegal, immoral, or unconstitutional."
The President considered that. Then he nodded and held out his hand toward a chair. "Please, Admiral. My time is limited, but I'll briefly expla
in what's going down." He paused until Sandecker was seated. "Now then. . .
"Five days ago a highly classified document written by Fidel Castro was smuggled out of Havana to our State Department. Basically it was a proposal for paving the way for positive and constructive relations between Cuba and America."
"What's so startling about that?" Sandecker asked. "He's been angling for closer ties since President Reagan kicked his ass out of Grenada."
