Judge Moore's CIA car was a Cadillac limousine that came with a driver and a security man who kept an Uzi submachinegun under the dashboard.  The driver turned right off Pennsylvania Avenue onto Executive Drive.  More a parking lot than a street, this served the needs of senior officials and reporters who worked at the White House and the Executive Office Building.  "Old State," that shining example of Institutional Grotesque that towered over the executive mansion.  The driver pulled smoothly into a vacant VIP slot and jumped out to open the doors after the security man had swept the area with his eyes.  The judge got out first and went ahead, and as Ryan caught up he found himself walking on the man's left, half a step behind.  It took a moment to remember that this instinctive action was exactly what the marine corps had taught him at Quantico was the proper way for a junior officer to accompany his betters.  It forced Ryan to consider just how junior he was.

"Ever been in here before, Jack?"

"No, sir, I haven't."

Moore was amused.  "That's right, you come from around here.  Now, if you came from farther away, you'd have made the trip a few times."  A marine guard held the door open for them.  Inside a Secret Service agent signed them in.  Moore nodded and walked on.

"Is this to be in the Cabinet Room, sir?"

"Uh-uh.  Situation Room, downstairs.  It's more comfortable and better equipped for this sort of thing.  The slides you need are already down there, all set up.  Nervous?"

"Yes, sir, I sure am."

Moore chuckled.  "Settle down, boy.  The president has wanted to meet you for some time now.  He liked that report on terrorism you did a few years back, and I've shown him some more of your work, the one on Russian missile submarine operations, and the one you just did on management practices in their arms industries.  All in all, I think you'll find he's a pretty regular guy.  Just be ready when he asks questions.  He'll hear every word you say, and he has a way of hitting you with good ones when he wants."  Moore turned to descend a staircase.  Ryan followed him down three flights, then they came to a door which led to a corridor.  The judge turned left and walked to yet another door, this one guarded by another Secret Service agent.

"Afternoon, Judge.  The president will be down shortly."

"Thank you.  This is Dr. Ryan.  I'll vouch for him."

"Right."  The agent waved them in.