‘I don’t understand what this is, sir.’ Grace’s voice was firm. ‘You seem to be discussing killing a man. Unless I’ve misread this?’

‘You’ve misread nothing, missy.’

The last statement came from Special Agent Cobb. His first contribution to the meeting. Meyer watched with interest as Grace ignored it entirely.

‘Sir, what you’re discussing. It’s a crime. It’s murder.’

Meyer nodded his head. He had no intention of denying it.

‘You can call it that if you like, Agent Grace. Others would call it democide. I prefer to look at it as an executive action. I suggest you do the same.’

‘Sir. You can’t be—’

‘There’s a lot more to the Secret Service than our official role. Sometimes the president has problems. Things that need to be dealt with discreetly. With no questions being asked and with no trail coming back to the White House.’

Grace did not respond. Meyer could not tell if she was shocked by what she was hearing, or just letting it sink in.

He continued.

‘That’s what we’re for. That’s what we do. And it’s what we’ve done for decades. For president after president. Our little unit, it’s a team within a team. A family. We do what needs to be done and no one else ever has to know. And if President Knowles hadn’t insisted I bring you in, you wouldn’t have had to know about it either.’

The uncertainty on Grace’s face was undisguised. Meyer could understand why. What he was telling her, he knew it made sense. It did not take any kind of keen analytical mind to realise that yes, of course the Secret Service were the obvious foot soldiers of a ruthless president.

Her confusion, then, was that such a description could be applied to President Knowles.

‘How do I know President Knowles is involved in what you are doing here?’ The question Meyer had expected. ‘How do I know he has ordered any of this?’

Meyer smiled. It was the perfect reaction. No criticism of their proposed action. No disgust. Just a need for certainty. It showed her loyalty to the president. Maybe Knowles was justified in placing his trust in her after all.

‘What, you think I’ve gone rogue?’ Meyer’s words suggested impatience with the young agent’s question, but his tone didn’t match.

‘I’m the assistant director of the Secret Service, Agent Grace. You don’t trust me when I say this order comes straight from the president?’

Grace said nothing more. She just held Meyer’s gaze. As if his words had made no impression on her. It left him no other option.

Meyer picked up the handset of the telephone that sat in the middle of the table and pressed ‘zero’.

‘Get me the president.’

For a few seconds no one spoke. A silence broken by Meyer.

‘Jack Meyer, Mr President.’

Meyer paused.

‘Yes, Mr President. The unit is engaged. They’ll be in New York today. But we have a problem.’

Meyer looked at Grace as he spoke.