“And now we have Islamic State to contend with, a terrorist organization so extreme al-Qaeda has distanced itself from them. Does the president give a shit? Doesn’t appear so.”

Cutler’s hands were restless, roaming over the tops of the files, as if eager to get to work digging deep. “So who are the big fish in this wretched pond? The two who have always stood as the major antagonists: Shiite Iran and Sunni Saudi Arabia. Both countries are fanatical in their own way; the rational concept of coexistence is anathema, let alone an accord. The falling apart is a renewed call to the ancient enmities of clan and sect. It echoes loud and clear across the rubble and the corpses, calling forth battalions of teenagers eager to martyr themselves for the cause of jihad.”

Throughout this speech, which sounded like a history lesson he had already absorbed countless times, Whitman moved from one buttock to another, restless in his barely stifled rage. “Is there a point to all this?”

Now Cutler did glare at him, and Whitman was smart enough to stifle whatever else was about to come out of his mouth.

“The point,” Cutler said, leaning even more forward and interlacing his fingers in a gesture that seemed vaguely ominous, “is this: while you were away at the party the Saudis announced an aid package of French weaponry to the Lebanese, in order to counter the alarming inroads the Shiite Hezbollah has made in that country in recent months.”

“How much was the package?”

Something flickered in Cutler’s eyes. “That’s the first intelligent thing out of your mouth since you stalked in here.” He sighed. “The answer to your question is three billion dollars.”

“Almost twice the annual Lebanese military budget.” Whitman’s eyes narrowed. “But still, that’s not gonna get it done for Lebanon. The effect, if any, will take years. Meanwhile, Hezbollah is making mincemeat of the Lebanese army.” He spread his hands. “So, I mean, why bother?”

“It’s a shot across our administration’s bow,” Cutler said. “The Saudis don’t like our new nonintervention policy in Syria, and they’re furious over our reaching out to elements inside Iran. If, in fact, the Saudis push the Lebanese army to confront Hezbollah it will blow up the army along sectarian and political lines. The result will plunge the country into utter chaos.”

“And that affects us how?”

“The NSA isn’t sure. Last night I was at a briefing with Hemingway, where I was updated. Though the administration is in a muddle over this development, the NSA isn’t. Hemingway is extremely concerned. He wants eyes on the ground in Lebanon. Eyes he can trust. He believes the threat posed to America’s interests abroad is imminent, and he wants Red Rover in-country ASAP.”

“I told you, boss, there is no Red Rover.”

“Okay, come off the Captain America kick, Gregory. You had a loss. It isn’t the first time, it won’t be the last.”

“It will, if I have to say anything about it.”