I am a drone, Ryan thought, unmoved by the implicit challenge.  In this company I sure as hell am.

"Agreed, Mr. President.  Please forgive me for hesitating.  I've never been a field officer before."

"I understand."  The president was magnanimous in victory.  "One more thing.  If I understand how submarines operate, Ramius could just have taken off, not saying anything.  Why tip them off?  Why the letter?  The way I read this, it's counterproductive."

It was Ryan's turn to smile.  "Ever meet a sub driver, sir?  No?  How about an astronaut?"

"Sure, I've met a bunch of the Shuttle pilots."

"They're the same breed of cat, Mr. President.  As to why he left the letter, there's two parts to that.  First, he's probably mad about something, exactly what we'll find out when we see him.  Second, he figures he can pull this off regardless of what they try to stop him with—and he wants them to know that.  Mr. President, the men who drive subs for a living are aggressive, confident, and very, very smart.  They like nothing better than making somebody else, a surface ship operator for example, look like an idiot."

"You just scored another point, Jack.  The astronauts I've met, on most things they're downright humble, but they think they're gods when it comes to flying.  I'll keep that in mind.  Jeff, let's get back to work.  Jack, keep me posted."

Ryan shook his hand again.  After the president and his senior adviser left, he turned to Judge Moore.  "Judge, what the hell did you tell him about me?"

"Only the truth, Jack."  Actually, the judge had wanted this operation to be run by one of the CIA's senior case officers.  Ryan had not been part of this scheme, but presidents have been known to spoil many carefully laid plans.  The judge took this philosophically.  "This is a big move up in the world for you, if you do your job right.  Hell, you might even like it."

Ryan was sure he wouldn't, and he was right.

CIA Headquarters

He didn't speak the whole way back to Langley.  The director's car pulled into the basement parking garage, where they got out and entered a private elevator that took them directly to Moore's office.  The elevator door was disguised as a wall panel, which was convenient but melodramatic, Ryan thought.  The DCI went right to his desk and lifted a phone.

"Bob, I need you in here right now."  He glanced at Ryan, standing in the middle of the room.  "Looking forward to this, Jack?"

"Sure, Judge," Ryan said without enthusiasm.

"I can see how you feel about this spying business, but the whole thing could develop into an extremely sensitive situation.  You ought to be damned flattered you're being trusted with it."

Ryan caught the between-the-line message just as Ritter breezed in.

"What's up, Judge?"