“Yes, Mr President,” Wilkes said, nodding. “Of course.” He tapped on the glass partition, and the car started moving. “We have a couple of things to get through, sir, starting with—”

“Hold on,” Flanery said, cutting across him. He could feel that old familiar rising tide of anger. “Where’s Lilt? You found him yet? Hey? And I don’t need any more excuses from you. I’ve had enough of excuses. Excuses don’t get me what I need. Are we understanding each other?”

“Yes, sir,” said Wilkes.

“So? You found him?”

“I’m, ah, waiting for a call, sir.”

Flanery locked eyes with the wilting man. “You’re waiting for a call? You’re waiting for a call? Let me tell you something. Let me tell you something because I don’t think … What is it, three years? Three years you’ve been working for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Three years. You’d think you’d have picked this up after three years. When you wait on a call, I wait on a call. You see that? See how that works? When you wait, I wait, and the President of the United States of America does not wait. I do not wait, Wilkes. I tell you to do something, I tell you to speak to someone, or find someone, or get something, or go somewhere, then you do it. I want it done. I want it done immediately. If I have to ask you to find out why Parthenios Lilt has suddenly gone dark on us, my time is already being wasted. But you know what is unacceptable? What’s unacceptable is having to wait on you to get me an answer. I do not accept that.”

“I am sorry, Mr President. My contact is checking with—”

Flanery held up a hand. “Details. Details, Wilkes. What have I told you about details?”

“You don’t need to—”

“I don’t need to hear them. They don’t interest me. Results interest me. Answers interest me. Details? I don’t give a damn about details.”

Wilkes’s phone buzzed in his hand, but Wilkes didn’t look down. Flanery almost wished he would. Then he’d have something else to get angry about.

“Check your damn phone,” he said sharply.

Wilkes did so. A single glance.

“My contact has been in touch,” he said. “We’ve located Lilt.”

“He better have a good story,” said Flanery. “His story better be great. Better be magnificent. He’s missed two calls. Two. No one misses calls with me. Martin Flanery is not the kind of man to call back later. I’m not that kind, Wilkes. Where the hell is he?”

Wilkes hesitated. If there was one thing Flanery hated more than time-wasting, it was hesitation.

“Spit it out, for God’s sake.”

“Parthenios Lilt has been arrested,” said Wilkes.

Flanery froze. “What?”

“Apparently, it happened three days ago, sir.”