"It's a free country, gentlemen. You are entitled to express your dissatisfaction even to the president of the nation. I take back my request for your resignations and shall stand back and allow you to run your respective agencies with a free hand. But I warn you, if either of you cause me any political embarrassment in the future, you'll both be out on the street without a moment's hesitation. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very," said Sandecker.

"Quite clear," Monroe conceded.

"Thank you for coming and clearing the air," said Wallace. "I wish I could say I enjoyed the company, but it wouldn't be true."

Sandecker paused in the doorway. "One question, Mr. President."

"Yes, Admiral."

"The Chinese historical treasures we recovered out of Lake Michigan. When do you plan to turn them over to the Chinese?"

"After I've milked every political compensation out of them I can get." Then Wallace smiled self-righteously. "But they won't receive any of the artifacts until they're displayed at the National Gallery of Art and then taken on the road throughout America and placed for a time on exhibit in every major city. I owe that much to the people."

"Thank you, sir. My compliments on your astute judgment."

"You see," said Wallace, grinning, "I'm not the ogre you thought I was."

After Sandecker, Monroe and Harper departed through the tunnel back to the White House, Wallace told his chief of staff he wanted a few moments alone. He sat there lost in his thoughts, wondering how history would treat him. If only he was clairvoyant and could read the future. No doubt a talent every president since Washington wished he'd possessed. Finally he sighed and called in Pecorelli.

"Who am I scheduled to see now?"

"Your speech writers would like a few minutes of your time to put the finishing touches on your speech to the Hispanic American College Association."

"Yes, that is an important speech," said the President, his thoughts coming back on line. "It's an excellent opportunity to announce my new plan for a cultural-arts agency."

It was business as usual in the executive office.

How nice to see you again," said Katie, standing in the open front door. "Please come in. lan is out on the porch, reading his morning newspaper."

"We can't stay long," said Julia as she passed into the entry way. "Dirk and I have to be on a plane back to Washington by noon."

Pitt followed the two women into the house. He carried a small wooden box under one arm. They passed into the kitchen and out onto the porch overlooking the lake. There was a brisk breeze and a good chop on the waves. A sailboat was running with the wind about a mile offshore. Gallagher rose to his feet, his newspaper in one hand.

"Dirk, Julia, thank you for stopping by," he boomed.

"Let me bring you some tea," said Katie.