The direct talks between Prime Minister Sanetomi and President Yandong of China had been going surprisingly well. Or maybe it wasn’t so surprising. Both men had a nasty nationalistic streak, but both also seemed to understand that they had taken this particular drama a little too far. That it wouldn’t be long before the situation metastasized beyond anything that either country could handle.

It was only the first day of the summit and the six-hour meeting that had ended earlier that afternoon already was generating compromises from both sides. Of course, the question of the Senkaku Islands was still open, but Castilla was convinced that it could be resolved in principle over the next few days.

What he wasn’t sure of, though, was whether it mattered.

He continued around the corner, blind to the expensive artwork and historical pieces that normally would have caught his eye. Instead, he focused on a closed door at the end of the seemingly endless corridor. Were the prime minister of Japan and the president of China even relevant anymore? Or had the power to control this situation shifted into the hands of a single man? The man he was about to meet.

Castilla paused, taking a deep breath as his two guards took up positions along the wall. One of the surprisingly few meaningful benefits to being the president of the United States was that he was generally better informed than the people he met with. In this instance that edge had been lost. Badly.

Castilla pushed through the door and closed it behind him. A Japanese man in a dark-blue business suit immediately rose from one of two wingback chair set up in front of a fireplace. The electric lights had been dimmed and the flames gave off a warm glow, though it didn’t feel as tranquil as Castilla had hoped.

General Masao Takahashi gave a respectful bow, and Castilla strode across the room to offer his hand. The soldier’s grip was predictably firm and they locked eyes, neither man attempting to assert dominance, but neither willing to cede it.

“Please,” Castilla said, indicating the chair Takahashi had risen from.

The soldier sat after another short bow and the president took the chair next to him. “It’s my understanding that you have valuable information relating to the negotiations between your country and China,” Castilla said.

“I’m very grateful and honored that you agreed to see me,” Takahashi said. “I understand the demands on your time.”

The famous Japanese politeness. Castilla wanted to take the man by the throat and scream, What the hell are you doing, you crazy son of a bitch! Trying to start World War Three?

Instead he smiled and reached for a pot on a table next to him. “Tea?”

“Thank you.”