“I choose my words with great care, Mr. President. You’ll note I did not say the sub was one of yours. I said, specifically, it was of your country’s design. There is a difference. I want to make it clear that my people believe there are entities within your government who were involved. But I am also going to tell you that we do not think you were personally responsible.”

“Madam...what you are alleging is inconceivable. And incredible.”

“So you say. But my intelligence folks are very thorough. I’m convinced their appraisal is sound. It is our strong, undivided view that those behind the strike were working with outside threat actors to undermine your authority with malicious intent and instigate a military conflict between our two nations.”

(PAUSE IN THE CONVERSATION)

“Madam President, true or not, these stunning allegations need explanation. I have a need to know who you believe these individuals to be.”

“On that we’re in full agreement. And I’m prepared to share our information once this call ends. But Mr. President, I have to be straightforward with you. Speaking as a friend, we have a complicated situation. There may be dangerous forces at work that are disassociated from any government. Yours, mine or others. If we’re going to get to the bottom of it, we’ll have to trust each other. Establish a closer relationship moving forward, predicated on a thorough accounting of the circumstances behind the Stalwart’s disappearance. I want the truth. Should the worst have happened—and I pray it hasn’t—I expect those responsible to be brought to justice. All this could be painful for both of us. But the positive, I mean it sincerely, is that it would send an unequivocal message to those parties that their plan has backfired. That instead of bringing us to war, it has brought us closer together in an atmosphere of mutual cooperation. Your thoughts?”

(EXTENDED PAUSE)

“Madam President, I think we will need a public gesture.”

“Say, a joint press conference at the White House?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll agree to that right now? Without precondition?”

“Yes.”

“Then, sir, we’re on. And let me tell you that is music to my ears.”

It was almost six o’clock when Carmody returned to the landing station. He’d heard sirens yowling and helicopters chopping in the air the whole way down the cone and could see why. The parking lot was filled end to end with Coast Guard and Navy police vehicles. Not to mention the personnel who had come inside them.

Lee and Baylor from the Fourteenth District were there, and they got him past the checkpoints. He tracked down Dixon inside the facility.

“You and the rest OK?” he said.

Dixon nodded.

“They’re back at the air station,” he said. “I figured I’d stick around and wait for you.”

“How did you know I would make it back?”

Dixon shrugged.