Oath of Office

“A woman by the name of Elizaveta Bobkova,” Foley said. “She’s registered as an economic attaché, but there’s no doubt she’s Russian intelligence. From what I hear, she’s quite the up-and-comer in the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki.” Mary Pat Kaminsky Foley’s Russian was flawless — as was her intuition regarding Russian spies. “According to the Bureau counterintel guys, Senator Chadwick’s aide saw the meeting.”

“Was this aide a party to it?”

Foley shook her head. “Just a witness. They said he looked as surprised as they were. He definitely saw it, though, according to the agents. Seems like sloppy tradecraft for an operative of Bobkova’s caliber. Maybe she wanted us to see her.”

“No word from the good senator’s office?” Ryan asked.

Foley shook her head.

“Why am I not surprised.”

“Moscow backs the sitting regime in Tehran,” Dehart said. “Why would one of their intel types sit down with Kazem?”

“Hedging their bets,” SecDef Burgess offered. “A couple of moderate mullahs are making noise about meeting with the protesting students.”

“I know I’m painting with a broad brush here,” Ryan said. “But in my experience, there are no moderate mullahs in Iran. There are hardline mullahs and practical mullahs — who are still hardline but understand realpolitik enough to know that certain concessions have to be made for their regime to survive in the near term.”

“There is another possibility regarding Bobkova,” Mary Pat said. “We see Russia playing nice with Reza Kazem’s group, we’re more likely to jump on the bandwagon. Not sure why they would want us to, but it plays into your hunch that something we don’t know about is going on in the background.”

“That sounds about right,” Ryan said. “Birddog this for me.”

Foley nodded. “Of course.”

“With your permission, Mr. President,” van Damm said, “I’d like to schedule another meeting on this topic tomorrow. Things are very nearly reaching the boiling point in Iran. We need to keep a weather eye.”

“Good idea,” Ryan said. “In the meantime, Mark, you’ll check with your people in Louisiana, and Mary Pat, you’ll get me more on Kazem and this Russian connection. There is something going on here that we aren’t—”

Betty buzzed in for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. “Commander Forrestal is here, Mr. President. He says it’s urgent.”

“Very well,” Ryan said into the intercom.

The deputy national security adviser, United States Navy Commander Robert Forrestal, stepped inside the door and snapped to attention, as he always did when he came into the Oval. He’d changed over from his winter blues to his summer white uniform just weeks before. Ryan thought Marine Corps dress was the classiest uniform that there was, but when it came to the Navy, the summer whites looked especially sharp.

“Good morning, Robby,” Ryan said. “And you too, Scott.”

The secretary of state, Scott Adler, stepped in behind Commander Forrestal. “I’m guessing you’re both here about the situation with the video?”

The two men looked at each other as if surprised by the question. They both nodded.

“Arnie showed me,” Ryan said. “I’m sure the networks have already picked it up.”

“CNN has it,” Adler said.

Forrestal spoke next. “We have personnel in Garoua, in the northern part of the country, as well as air assets in Agadez, Niger. They are aware of the situation and—”

Ryan frowned, throwing his hand up. “I think we’re talking at cross-purposes here. Start over as if I don’t know anything about this. Because I sure as hell do not.”

“Cameroon, Mr. President,” Forrestal said. “President Njaya’s troops have surrounded our embassy in Yaounde.”

“Surrounded?” Arnie van Damm put a hand on top of his bald head. “What the hell do you mean, surrounded?”

Adler gave an exhausted shrug. “Encircled, Arnie. Swarmed. Bum-rushed.” He looked at Ryan. Any briefing in the Oval was meant for the President, not the chief of staff. “They were attacked, sir. No casualties reported, but we believe a Cameroonian general has taken refuge with his family in the chancery.”

“We believe?” Ryan asked, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper.

“Cameroonian forces destroyed the satellite antennas and appear to be blocking cell transmissions. We’re trying to reestablish communications now.”

Ryan considered everything that had been said in the past few minutes. He looked hard from Forrestal to Adler. “There was some miscommunication about a situation with a video when you first came in. What video were you talking about?”

The secretary of state spoke next. “A video of you, Mr. President. You and General Mbida of the Cameroonian Army.”

Ryan nodded. “Mbida was in Washington three months ago, looking at colleges for his eldest daughter. We spoke briefly at an event… I can’t even remember where.”

“Kennedy Center,” Adler said. “You were both at the same performance of Rigoletto.”

“That’s right.” Ryan groaned. “Cathy’s doing. I just spoke with him for a few moments during intermission.”