"Can't do that, Paul. Illegal as hell."

"Then do it illegally, and have Martha tell everyone we are."

"Paul--"

"Do it, Lowell. I'll deal with the goddamn ACLU later. I can't have my people worrying about plugging leaks, and I can't worry about who might be causing them!"

Lowell left, trailing disgust.

Hood looked at Ann, tried to recollect his thoughts. He noticed her kerchief now, casually knotted around her hair. He hated himself as he sat there thinking how nice it would be to tug gently at the end of the red and black cloth, and lose his hands in her long brown hair- He pulled his thoughts together in a hurry. "Ann, I've, uh, I've got something else for your plate. You heard about the Mirage that was shot up?"

She nodded, the eyes suddenly looking sad. He wondered if she could possibly have known what he was thinking. Women never ceased to astound him that way.

"The White House is going to issue a statement to the effect that in light of North Korea overreacting to our flyover, our forces in the region are being put on Defcon 3 alert." He glanced at the countdown clock on the back wall. "That was fifty-two minutes ago. Pyongyang will do the equivalent, possibly one-up us, and my guess-- my hope-- is that the President will let things sit until we learn more about what happened at the Palace. At this stage of the game, if he escalates, God only knows what the North will do. When Bob gets here, we've got to talk to Ernie Colon and give the President a military options update. What I need you to do, Ann, is soften whatever the White House says."

"Give us a way out?"

"Exactly. Lawrence won't apologize for the surveillance plane, so we can't either. But if all we do is talk tough, eventually we're going to have to act tough. Let's get some regrets into our statement, so that if we have to back down at any point there's an open door. You know-- they have the right of all sovereign nations to protect their territory, and we regret that circumstances forced us to take extreme measures to do the same."

"I'll have to run it past Lowell--"

"That's fine. I kind of sacked him before."

"He deserved it. He's a pain."

"He's a lawyer," Hood pointed out. "We pay him to play devil's advocate."

Ann folded away her pad, hesitated. "Have you eaten today?"

"Just a little crow."

"I noticed the feathery quality in your voice. You want something?"

"Maybe later." Hood heard Bob Herbert's voice as he rolled down the hall. He looked up at Ann. "Tell you what. If you're free around twelve-thirty, why don't you have them send over a couple of salads from the commissary. We'll do greens and strategy."

"It's a date," she said, in a way that shot electricity down his belly.

Ann turned to go and he watched her while pretending to look down. It was a dangerous little game, but it wasn't going anywhere-- he wouldn't let it-- and, right now, the attention felt fine.