“An inside informant, sir. We don’t know if she’s an operative with the organization, or somewhere on the sidelines, but her intel is good, as it turns out.”

“Her?” the president asked.

Burns nodded. “Up until now, it’s been one of a thousand possibilities. We’ve had claims from Al Qaeda, Hezbollah, and everything on down.”

“What about the children?” Mrs. Coyle asked. “Did this woman — this informant — say anything about Ethan and Zoe?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but no,” Burns told her. “What we received was a list of targets. Something that, quite honestly, sounded improbable until about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Go on,” Coyle told him. “What kind of targets are we talking about here?”

“All human, sir,” Burns said. “It’s a list of eighteen names. Vice President Flynn is at the top, with Secretary Ribillini from Homeland Security at number eighteen.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Coyle had heard everything he needed to know. “Tell me Martin Cho wasn’t on that list.”

“I’m afraid so. Right below the Speaker of the House and the president pro tempore of the Senate.”

“So in other words …,” the president said slowly.

“That’s right, sir,” Burns affirmed. “We’re talking about the entire line of succession to the presidency.”

NORMA TIEFEL, THE Counterterrorism Adviser, spoke next. “Everyone on that list will be receiving a full protective detail in addition to whatever security service they already have. That means dedicated intelligence agents, CAT teams on standby, also advance and transportation. Although we’re hoping to keep travel to a minimum.”

“They can’t shut down our goddamn government!” the president shouted at Tiefel. “That’s exactly what they want! And exactly why I came back to Washington. Do you know what kind of flak they gave Bush for being in the air on Nine/Eleven?”

“That wasn’t his call, sir. I’m aware it wasn’t his fault,” Tiefel said as diplomatically as she could.

“Yes, exactly. I’m sure it wasn’t his fault,” Coyle said. It was all this programmed movement he hated. The sense of traveling through the world not as one person, but as five, six, ten, and twenty at a time. That was the real weight of the presidency.

“For the time being, sir,” Tiefel said, “it is best for you to keep out of sight.”

“Again,” the president grumbled, and turned in his seat, away from all the unwanted advice. “Archie, where are we going?” he called back.

Agent Walsh, the head of the president’s protective detail, stood up in the small passageway between them and the pilot.

“Andrews, sir. Air Force One is on standby.”

“And then?”

Walsh stayed where he was but was mute, awkwardly not answering the question. It wasn’t for Burns’s or Tiefel’s ears at this point.

“Never mind, goddamnit,” the president barked. He could feel Regina’s hand on his own, gentle and firm at the same time. When he looked at her, she seemed to be holding it all together by a sheer act of will. He owed her the same self-control. Actually he owed it to his advisers as well. They were in danger now, too.