Thirty minutes later, Bear was in the Oval Office. President Dillon was at her desk, made from the timbers of HMS Resolute, which Bear knew had been a gift to the US president from Queen Victoria in 1880, a memorial of “the courtesy and loving kindness” shown to the UK by the American people. That desk, and the fact that she still sat at it when she and her many distinguished predecessors could have sat at almost any other desk, epitomized the Special Relationship that had long existed between the two countries. But now, sitting opposite MacWhite on one of the two olive-green sofas that faced each other on the cream carpet, Bear wondered just what Queen Victoria would think of this present British prime minister. Not much, was his opinion. By contrast, it was fortunate that Dillon was already showing the inner steel needed for the brutal nature of geopolitics; not unlike that long-dead Queen.

Then a Presidential aide entered, looking flustered. Rather than use the hotline—not the red telephone of popular mythology, but a data link known formally as the Washington–Moscow Direct Communications Link and located in the Pentagon, at the National Military Command Center—Dillon had wanted to talk to the President direct, albeit through an interpreter. The initial contact had already been made to the Kremlin and the White House had been assured that the President was in his office and waiting.

“How are we getting on fixing that call?” questioned Dillon.

“I’m sorry, Madam President. We’ve spoken to the President’s office in Moscow. We had it all set up, but he’s decided he won’t take your call after all. You won’t believe this but, since they gave us the green light, the President has apparently just left the office. He’s pre-booked to do a free fall jump with the Russian airborne forces parachute display team, at an air show early tomorrow morning. Apparently he regrets not being able to talk to you, but it’s midnight in Moscow now and apparently he needs his sleep so that he can demonstrate his strength and courage to the Russian people tomorrow morning. He hopes you will understand.”

Dillon breathed out slowly. This was not a time to show that she was furious at being so obviously snubbed. MacWhite looked at Bear and both men looked away; this was also not the moment to comment on the humiliation of the President of the United States at the hands of the President of Russia. But Bear noted, staring hard at his notebook, of one thing there was now no doubt: the President had no interest in trying to resolve this crisis.

“Bear, why don’t you go and check personally that the Brit prime minister can take the President’s call?”