Chess said: ‘I see what you mean about escalation.’
‘Before long we will have French and Egyptian troops nose to nose across the Chad–Sudan border, each daring the other to shoot first.’
‘It looks that way.’
‘And it could get worse. Sudan and Egypt might ask China for reinforcements, and Beijing might comply – the Chinese are very serious about getting a foothold in Africa. Then France and Chad will ask the US for help. France is our ally in NATO, and we already have troops in Chad, so it becomes difficult for us to stay out of the fighting.’
‘That’s a big jump,’ said Chess.
‘But am I wrong?’
‘No, you’re not wrong.’
‘And at that point we’re on the brink of a superpower war.’
The room went quiet for a moment.
The memory of Munchkin Country popped into Pauline’s mind. It was like a nightmare that would not go away even after the dreamer woke up. She saw again the ranks of cots in the barracks, the five-million-gallon water tank, and the Situation Room with its lines of phones and screens. She was haunted by the thought that one day she might find herself living in that underground hideout, the only person who could save the human race. And if the apocalypse happened, it would be her fault. She was the most powerful person in the world. There would be no one else to blame.
And she had to make sure James Moore never became the one with that dreadful duty. Aggression was his default mode, and that was what his supporters liked. He pretended that no one could ever stand against America – forgetting Vietnam, Cuba, Nicaragua. He talked tough and it made his fans feel big. But violent talk led to violent action in the world just as it did in the school playground. A fool was just a fool, but a fool in the White House was the most dangerous person in the world.
She said: ‘Let me see if I can pour oil on the waters before they become too troubled.’ She turned to her Chief of Staff. ‘Jacqueline, schedule a call with the president of France, as soon as he’s available, but in any event before the end of the day.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I must speak to the president of Egypt, too, but we need to lay some groundwork first. Chess, talk to the Saudi ambassador here – Prince Faisal, isn’t it?’
‘One of several Saudis called Prince Faisal, yes.’
‘Ask him to talk to the Egyptians and encourage them to listen to what I have to say to them. The Saudis are allies of Egypt and should have some influence.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Maybe we can put a stop to this before they all get too angry.’ Pauline stood up, and everyone else followed suit. She said to Gus: ‘Walk with me as far as the Residence.’
He followed her out.
As they went along the West Colonnade he said: ‘You know, you were the only person in that room who perceived the extent of the danger. Everyone else was still seeing it as a little local fracas.’
Pauline nodded. He was right. That was why she was the boss. She said: ‘Thank you for sending me that eyewitness report of the battle at the refugee camp. It made vivid reading.’
‘I thought you’d enjoy it.’
‘I know the woman who wrote it, Tamara Levit. She’s from Chicago. She volunteered in my congressional campaign.’ Pauline conjured a memory. ‘Dark-haired girl, well dressed, very attractive, all the boys fell for her. She was good, too – we made her an organizer.’
‘And now she’s an agent with the CIA station in N’Djamena.’
‘And not easily scared. Reading between the lines, Sudanese shells were exploding all around her while she was carrying her unconscious boss over her shoulder.’
‘I could have used her in Afghanistan.’
‘I’ll call her later.’
They arrived at the Residence. She left Gus and ran up the stairs to the family floor. Gerry was in the Dining Room, eating scrambled eggs and reading the Washington Post. Pauline sat down next to him and unfolded her napkin. She asked the cook for a plain omelette.
Pippa came in. She looked sleepy, but Pauline made no comment: she had read recently that teenagers needed a lot of sleep because they were growing so fast, and they were not just lazy. Pippa was wearing an oversize flannel shirt and distressed jeans. There was no uniform at Foggy Bottom Day School, but students were expected to wear clothes that were clean and reasonably neat. Pippa was clearly on the borderline, but Pauline remembered that she, at that age, had always tried to dress in a way that would offend the teachers without quite breaking the rules.