Normally, Underwood disliked the technicalities and bargaining involved in foreign affairs meetings. Whenever possible, he avoided them. But now, almost eagerly, he looked forward to an extended discussion with Noy. Speaking to her, listening to her, he was aware that he was dealing with a remarkable woman. He had never felt more comfortable.
Consideration of the loan went back and forth, and he heard her out on the situation on Lampang and her problems as successor to her husband.
At last, Underwood came to a decision and he made it. Noy was plainly pleased, and even spontaneously reached out to touch his hand in a show of gratitude.
‘But this is a trade,’ she said. ‘Now you must give me your demand.’
‘It’s about lease of an air base,’ he said.
‘I know, Matt. But I must know the details.’
He outlined the details carefully for her, consulting the cards he had been given to be certain that he had it right. He told her everything that Secretary of State Morrison and Secretary of Defense Cannon had given him.
Noy was attentive, understanding his demands, and when it was time she countered with her point of view.
She was so logical that he found it hard to resist her, but he continued to lay out America’s needs.
After a half hour, they arrived at a compromise.
‘Well, there we have it,’ Noy said. ‘Are you pleased?’
‘If it satisfies you, I am pleased.’
She gathered up her purse. ‘I’ve taken too much of your time. I’d better find Marsop and get back to Blair House to help the maid repack.’
She started to rise, but he restrained her.
‘Noy, must you return to Lampang tomorrow?’
‘It was my plan. It is not urgent, but I am needed there.’
Underwood hesitated. ‘In a different sense, I need you here, at least one more day.’
She met his gaze. ‘But why, Matt? We have concluded our business.’
‘Only our foreign policy business,’ he said. ‘I have not concluded my personal business.’
She wrinkled her smooth brow. ‘What does that mean?’
‘I’ve had such a wonderful time with you that I hate to see it end. For one thing, I’d like to give you a closer look at Washington, take you on a guided tour. I know you’ve been here before. Did you see much?’
‘Except for the tourist visit to the White House, very little.’
‘You must see more,’ Underwood said with conviction. ‘I’ll personally take you on a drive around Washington. Then we can have lunch, one to one, and talk about personal business.’
‘What kind of personal business?’
‘You,’ said the president. ‘I want to know more about you. And I want you to know more about me. We should know each other not as heads of state but as human beings.’
She cocked her head and bathed him with a smile. ‘That sounds appealing. I find you almost impossible to resist.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘Haven’t you got a heavy schedule tomorrow?’
He grinned. ‘Yes, the day with you. I’ll pick you up at Blair House at eleven-twenty. Show you about. Then we can dine together at one o’clock. I’ll get you back to your guest house by late afternoon, in time for your return to Lampang by early morning. What do you say? It would not be courteous to veto the president on a matter like this.’
Noy laughed. ‘Who says I’m going to veto you?’ She rose to her feet. ‘I like the bill of goods you offer. It stands passed. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in the morning.’
After Noy Sang had gone, he saw that there was still time to go to his office and see if there was anything on his desk that required his immediate attention.
Starting for the lift and his office, he felt in high spirits, higher than he had been in months. He hadn’t enjoyed the company of a woman as much since he had become president. He tried to reason out her effect on him. It could not be her beauty alone. He had a wife who might be considered more beautiful. He thought of Noy again, her unaffected manner and style, her forthrightness, her knowledge and intelligence, her naturalness.
She was truly one of a kind.
And it made him buoyant that he could have almost the entire day with her tomorrow.
It was certain to be a memorable day.
Then, nearing his office, one cloud descended. He must summon his chief of staff and secretary of state and inform them of what had transpired between Noy and himself. He must brace himself for that confrontation.
Entering the Oval Office, he saw that he would not have to summon his chief of staff and secretary of state. They were both already there, Blake and Morrison, each slouching on chairs on either side of the Rutherford B. Hayes desk awaiting him. He walked around his desk, half saluting Blake and Morrison, and sat down in his leather chair which was flanked behind by the presidential flag and the Stars and Stripes.
He glanced at the presidential flag, as if to remind himself who was really in charge here.
He shuffled the papers on his desk top, and finally he spoke. ‘Well, it’s done,’ he finally said.
Blake tried to keep the reproach out of his voice. ‘You took long enough, Matt. You were pencilled-in for two hours with her. You were with her over five hours. Fortunately, you didn’t have a heavy schedule today, except for the visit to the Contempo Museum. I can tell you the first lady was pretty upset you missed it. But still ’
‘What counts is how you made out,’ said Morrison.
‘Was it five hours?’ Underwood said. ‘It felt like two. I guess there was a lot to talk about.’
‘How did you make out?’ Morrison repeated. ‘Did you make the swap?’
‘Oh, yes. We gave and we got.’
‘What did you give, Matt?’ The secretary of state wanted to know.
‘Lampang has a lot of problems,’ Underwood said evasively.
‘The whole world has,’ said Morrison. ‘How much did you settle for? Did you have to go to $150,000,000?’
‘No,’ said Underwood. ‘That wouldn’t have helped her or us.’ He steeled himself. ‘I agreed we would loan her 5250,000,000, half of it immediately.’
Morrison was incredulous. ‘You what?’
‘They need money there, and we need them.’
‘But $250,000,000. That’s the kind of money we might consider giving some major nation, not a mere island.’
‘It’ll be well spent, you’ll see.’
‘I mean, if you gave it to General Nakorn, I might understand it,’ Morrison protested. ‘At least he’s totally on our side.’
‘He’s not interested in democracy. He doesn’t give a damn about the people. If he were in power, he’d wipe out the communists. There’d be a bloodbath.’
‘But he is on our side,’ Morrison implored. ‘He’s our kind of dictator. Noy Sang is too weak. She’s not dependable.’
Underwood was adamant. ‘In my judgement she’s entirely dependable. When she has the money, she’ll turn Lampang into a real democracy. We’ll have a democracy to work with.’
Blake suddenly intervened. ‘Matt -‘
Underwood faced him. ‘Yes, Paul?’
Blake hesitated. It was as if he had a question to which he didn’t want to hear the answer. ‘All right, we know what you gave, but Matt - what did you get?’
‘An air base, just as we wanted.’
‘Just as we wanted,’ Blake said suspiciously. ‘You mean exactly the space we wanted?’
Absently, Underwood doodled with a pen. ‘Well, not exactly. Almost, but not exactly.’
Morrison bent forward. ‘Exactly was to be 130,000 acres. How much is not exactly?’
‘Noy has obstacles to overcome. She couldn’t give 130,000 acres and pretend Lampang was still an independent nation. I had to be sensible.’
‘What’s sensible?’ Morrison demanded.
‘We agreed on an air base of 90,000 acres.’
For seconds Morrison was speechless. At last he
found his voice. ‘That’s for Piper Cubs,’ he said. ‘That’s not for the jets in our air force.’
‘We can make do,’ said Underwood. He came to his feet. ‘I’d better get upstairs and have a few words with Alice. She must be furious about this afternoon.’
As Underwood reached the door to start under the colonnade past the Rose Garden, Blake’s voice caught him. ‘You missed the big fight in Las Vegas, Matt.’
‘I quite forgot.’
‘Your man won. The challenger won the title by a technical knockout.’
‘Good, good,’ said Underwood disinterestedly as he pushed the door open.
He did not leave. He addressed his chief of staff. ‘Paul, what’s on the agenda tomorrow?’
‘You know,’ said Blake. ‘You and Alice are entertaining the Senate wives for lunch. Then a press conference. In the evening the formal dinner for the governors together with their wives.’
‘Fine,’ said Underwood. ‘The evening is on. Cancel the afternoon, except for the press conference. I mean, you and Alice can handle those women.’
‘Cancel your appearance in the afternoon before the press conference?’ said Blake. ‘What are you going to be doing?’
‘I’ve convinced Noy Sang to stay over an extra day. I’m going to take her sightseeing and then off to a private lunch in some restaurant.’ He paused. ‘We’ll discuss the air base further.’
With that, he left the Oval Office.
Once he was gone, and they were alone, Blake and Morrison sat in silence.
After a brief interval, their eyes met. ‘What’s going on?’ Morrison said, not quite to himself. ‘Five hours instead of two with the president of something called Lampang. A reckless loan far beyond what we agreed upon. A shrunken air base in return. Now, tomorrow, yet another day with that woman. What’s happened to President Matt Underwood?’
‘Easy,’ said Blake. ‘It even has a name.’
‘A name?’
‘For ordinary men it’s called middle age syndrome. Why shouldn’t that happen to a president, too?’
The following morning, Matt Underwood was determined to have this day for himself, or rather for Noy Sang and himself.
The White House was a goldfish bowl, and escaping it had not been easy. He had begun the day with a series of lies. He called in Paul Blake and instructed him to inform the first lady that the president would be tied up for the afternoon - serious consultations with the National Space Agency - and unhappily would have to miss the Senate ladies’ tea. He expected Alice and Blake to carry on in his stead. Yes, he would be available for a press conference at four-thirty. He ordered Blake not to say a word to anyone about his absence from the White House. After that he lied to Jack Bartlett, his press secretary, about his afternoon’s schedule, telling Bartlett that he had major policy decisions to make in seclusion. He expected Bartlett to invent a palatable lie for the press.
His earliest intention had been to lie to Frank Lucas, Director of the Secret Service, also, but then he had second thoughts about that. He did not mind endangering his own life without the Secret Service, but he felt he could not take the risk with Noy.
He called Lucas in and told him the truth. He explained he had to have a confidential meeting with President Noy Sang about Lampang. Yet, he wanted protection for Madame Noy more than himself and therefore felt that it was his duty to inform Lucas.
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ said Lucas, a burly ex-police captain with a wide nose that looked like it had been punched flat long ago.
‘But I want only minimum protection,’ added Underwood. ‘Two or three Secret Service agents at most, so that I don’t draw outside attention.’
‘Impossible,’ said Lucas. ‘I’ll need a full shift of twelve, including several to sweep the restaurant you choose for surveillance devices and to supervise the preparation of the food in the kitchen. Understand this, Mr. President, we have a computer that lists all persons who’ve threatened you. There are at least 40,000 of those, and 350 we regard as serious threats. Disgruntled assailants have wounded or killed ten presidents and two nominees despite our protection, and we’ve lost eight agents in the line of duty.’
‘Still, I don’t want a motorcade. Can’t you cut my protection detail down to six?’
‘It depends. Six isn’t much.’ Lucas considered it, determined to do his duty, but eager to please the president. ‘What’s your timetable and itinerary?’
‘I’ll have a car and driver at the South Portico just before eleven-fifteen. I intend to go to Blair House to pick up Madame Noy. Then maybe an hour or two of sightseeing, the obvious sights around the city. Then I want you to find me an obscure restaurant in Georgetown - not a celebrity waterhole - someplace I’m least likely to be recognised - and reserve a booth for Madame Noy and myself.’
Lucas shook his head. ‘There are no obscure restaurants in Georgetown. You’ll be recognised anywhere you go. Unless -‘ He ruminated over a possibility.
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless I can find one that can be closed down for the afternoon, ostensibly for repairs, and posted a notice to that effect. Then you and Madame Noy would have the place to yourselves.’
‘Is that possible?’
‘Anything is possible with the right contacts,’ said Lucas. ‘In fact, I may have the ticket. There’s a small restaurant, The 1776 Club, in Georgetown, that has a light luncheon crowd. It’s usually almost empty at lunch time, and is quite easy to
make secure. I know the owner and could talk to him. Of course, we’d have to bear the costs of the business he’d lose. I think I could talk him into that.’
‘Then do it. Book it for one o’clock. I’ll need three hours. Maybe a little longer.’
‘Done,’ said Lucas. ‘You understand I’ll have to place an agent in the limousine with you.’
‘Acceptable,’ agreed Underwood. ‘Our private conversation will take place during lunch.’
‘I’ll have to have at least two cars with agents to precede you and follow you. There’s no guarantee you won’t be spotted by someone.’
‘I’m not worried about that. Those blacked out windows in the limousine will conceal us.’
‘There are no blacked out windows in the brownstones surrounding the restaurant.’
‘I’ll take my chances, Frank. Just see that the Closed for Repairs sign is posted.’
‘Never mind, it will be.’
‘Know this, Frank. No one is aware of my meeting except you, my chief of staff, and the secretary of state. They won’t talk. The press doesn’t know. Even my wife doesn’t know. The only leak could come from you or your men.’
‘You have my word, it won’t,’ pledged Lucas. He rose and headed for the door. ‘See you at fifteen after eleven.’
The limousine and driver and the Secret Service arrived on time.
The president left the White House by the back entrance, virtually unseen.
He had dressed at his dapper best, a summer-weight grey suit, darker grey shirt, red tie with white polka dots.
At Blair House he stepped out of the limousine to escort Noy from the guest house. To his eyes, she was a dream of youth. She wore a blue Chanel sweater, and a pleated white chiffon skirt, and she took his hand with warmth.
Once seated in the rear, Underwood explained to Noy where they would be going, as he had earlier to the chauffeur.
At each sight they stopped briefly. Underwood’s flashes of commentary were in his old television style and he was at his best.
‘An odd American city,’ he said as they cruised along. ‘It was planned by a Frenchman. The majority of its inhabitants are black. Two-thirds of its working population live in Virginia and Maryland … That’s the Capitol dome, which is a cast-iron copy of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. The interior of the dome is partially decorated with sculptured tobacco leaves, and no warnings about smoking endangering your health … There’s the Washington Monument, an obelisk over 555 feet high and 81,120 tons in weight.
At first it tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa but was straightened out in 1880. No one is allowed to walk up the 898 steps - an elevator takes you to the top in seventy seconds - but you can walk down and see 190 tribute slabs from various states, countries, the Cherokee nation, and Brigham Young’s Deseret, where polygamy was allowed. The Monument celebrates our first president, who led us to freedom yet made millions of dollars on slave labour … The Japanese cherry trees in blossom are a gorgeous sight, aren’t they? The first shipment from Tokyo was infected with fungus and had to be burned down. The trees you see were planted in 1912 … They face a memorial to the revolutionary you referred to yesterday, Thomas Jefferson. There was a great fuss when 171 healthy trees had to be destroyed or removed to make way for his memorial … Over there is the memorial to Abraham Lincoln. Imagine, an Illinois rustic raised in a log cabin, now seated in a Greek marble temple that resembles the Parthenon … That’s the J. Edgar Hoover Building that houses the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It hoards 250 million fingerprints to identify murderers or people suffering from amnesia.’
Near the end of the tour, Noy turned to him. ‘You are really irreverent, Mr. President.’
‘Mr. President is never irreverent. Only Matt Underwood is.’ He covered her hand. ‘You are spending the day with Matt Underwood.’
The limousine had slowed down.
‘The 1776 Club,’ the driver announced.
Underwood came forward, waving away the Secret Service. ‘Now to a long, leisurely lunch. Not irreverent, but certainly private.’
‘Why are you doing this, Matt?’
‘Because I wanted to know you better without talking of loans and air bases.’
‘Know me better? But why?’
Helping her out of the car, he said, ‘Because I hope to be seeing more of you, much more. Any objections, Noy?’
She stepped down and smiled up at him. ‘I’m flattered and I’m pleased.’
And they went down the steps that led them into this obscure and closed restaurant.
Frank Lucas, who had himself headed the Secret Service detail, was awaiting them at the entrance, standing next to the Closed for Repairs sign. He led them past the empty tables of the restaurant to a booth at the very rear.
(1989) The Guest of Honour Page 7
