Janson nodded slowly. A global cataclysm loomed, but so did a far more immediate threat to the assembled. As long as Alan Demarest remained in charge of the Novak empire, everyone in this room would be in fear for his life.

“Sorry, Paul. It’s too late to get into the dead pool,” Collins said wanly.

“Christ, Derek,” Janson said, turning to the undersecretary with undisguised outrage, “you knew what kind of man Demarest was!”

“We had every reason to think we could control him!”

“Now he has every reason to think he can control you,” Janson replied.

“It’s become apparent that Demarest has been planning his coup d’état for years,” the secretary of state said. “As the recent killings have revealed, Demarest has assembled a private militia, recruited dozens of his former colleagues to use as his personal enforcers and protectors. These are operatives who know the codes and procedures of our most advanced field strategies. And the corrupt moguls of the former Communist states—the ones who pretend to be opposed to him—are actually in league with the guy. They’ve made their own centurions available to him.”

“You called it a coup d’état,” Janson said to him. “A term usually reserved for toppling and supplanting a head of state.”

“In its own way, the Liberty Foundation is as powerful as any state,” the secretary replied. “It may soon become more so.”

“The fact is,” the president said, cutting to the heart of the matter, “Demarest has absolute proof of everything we did. He can blackmail us into doing whatever he demands. I mean, Jesus.” The president exhaled heavily. “If the world ever found out that the U.S. had been surreptitiously manipulating global events—not to mention using Echelon to bet against the currencies of other countries—it would be an absolutely devastating blow. Congress would go berserk, of course, but that’s the least of it. You’d get Khomeini-style revolutions all over the Third World. We’d lose every ally we have—would instantly become a pariah among nations. NATO itself would fall apart … .”

“So long, Pax Americana,” muttered Janson. It was true: here was a secret so explosive that history would have to be rewritten if it ever were to come out.

The president spoke again: “He’s now sent us a message demanding that we turn control of Echelon over to him. And that’s just for starters. For all we know, nuclear codes could be next.”

“What did you tell him, Mr. President?”

“We refused, naturally.” Glances were exchanged with the secretary of state. “I refused, dammit. Against the wisdom of all my advisers. I will not go down in history as the person who handed the United States over to a maniac!”

“So now he’s given us a deadline along with the ultimatum,” Collins said. “And the clock is ticking.”

“And you can’t take him out?”