Kipper stole a glance at his wife. The First Lady had been vetted for her own security clearance, but she knew nothing yet about the Federation’s special forces personnel they’d caught down in St Teresa, Florida. Or rather, that Blackstone had caught. As for Kip, he didn’t know which of those recent revelations from Tusk Musso angered him more. Roberto Morales’s pissant little colonisation scam, or the fact that yet again Blackstone had let his imperial ego get the better of him, this time by pushing his forces into parts of the country they had absolutely no right to be in.

Barbara tilted her head inquisitively. ‘Is this one of those conversations where I should discreetly leave the room?’

Jed answered for his boss. ‘Nah, Barb. You’re going to be hearing all about it soon enough anyway.’ He threw down the bourbon in one hit, before topping up the glass once more.

The President could see the gears in the other man’s mind clanking and grinding together as he forced himself to walk away from the drinks bar. Kip worried about him. His weight was getting out of hand, and he was normally much better than this at handling pressure. Since taking on the jihadi prisoners last week as a special project, however, his Chief of Staff seemed moodier and more irascible than ever. He even disappeared at times, absenting himself from the routine of Dearborn House for a whole day just recently, without explanation, beyond muttering ‘Fucking Vancouver’ when asked. Kip wondered if he was leaning on him too much.

‘Mad Jack had some long-range patrols scouting around in northern Florida,’ he explained to his wife.

‘That’s a long way from Texas,’ she replied, cocking one eyebrow.

‘Oh yeah,’ said Culver.

Kipper frowned at him before continuing. ‘Well, that’s par for the course, with the Governor. He’s got his fingers stuck into cookie jars he shouldn’t all over the place. This is just the latest. But for once, I’m not much fussed about it, because it might turn out to be helpful. TDF grabbed up a small squad of Federation special ops guys who were looking to become a giant pain in the ass somewhere down the line. Forewarned is forearmed, as Grandma used to say, and I think for once we might actually owe Blackstone a thank-you. It’s still early enough in the story for us to respond without having to start throwing around aircraft carriers and army groups. Neither of which, you might’ve noticed, we can spare.’

Jed left his bourbon on the mantelpiece, untouched, and dropped himself into an armchair with an audible grunt.

‘So you’re not going to be giving him what he wants then? We’re not gearing up for a war down there?’