“Yes, I do know the President, but I wouldn’t say I am his ‘Buddy,’ Jessica. And no, he is most definitely not my ‘Protector.’” He took a moment to gather his thoughts just like James taught him he continued on.
“It’s the other way around. The President expects all of Russia’s business leaders to help and support the country interests by becoming National Champions,” he answered seriously and deliberately to give her an opening to bring up Adwalland and so send a message to State Department that he could be used as an instrument in any back channel if needed while hoping they were smart enough to see it. She didn’t disappoint.
“So your investment in Adwalland is an example of that expectation in action?” she asked as if on cue.
“Yes, I was asked to lead a delegation of Russian companies due to my close relationship with the President of Adwalland, who I think by the way, is doing a magnificent job with his tribal leaders in rebuilding his young country…But you have to remember that we are British company at heart and will always be so,” he answered carefully to lay out his position as the Honest Broker by publically espousing that, despite his many years in Russia as an investor, he was British.
“So the fact that you assisted in the negotiations between the two Presidents, in the agreement, to put a navy base one hundred and twenty-five miles away from the American base in Djibouti is secondary,” she said, delivering the statement as promised to her source at the State Department.
“What’s your point, Jessica? I don’t understand your question?” he asked to give her more fuel for the fire.
“That you’re part of the new Russian Policy deliberately challenging the United States of America in all theatres,” she said, taking the bait with piercing blue eyes.
“Well, I don’t speak for the Russian Government; you will need to ask the Russian Foreign Ministry that question. I will counter that if the Russian Government is prepared to support its and their partner’s organizations with a ten billion dollar investment into the infrastructure needed to assist in the extraction of the world’s much needed natural resources then that State,” he paused for effect, “is entitled to safeguard their interests as they see fit. So yes, if the governments of Russia or Adwalland believe a navy base will help in a traditionally hard and difficult region then I welcome it as a businessman… That said, I think it would be arrogant or naive to believe the TLH Group is part of a deliberate challenge between two great countries especially when all we are trying to do is help in the rebuilding of a young war-torn country,” he answered with a smile, implying it was.
The power-keg was now well and truly lit.
While Jessica Austin was finishing her exclusive interview with Litchfield with a move back to puff pieces, Joe McGiven turned down the television set in his private office within his Georgetown townhouse, picked up the phone and dialed David Young who was at a dinner party his wife was hosting.
Having checked to see who was calling him he excused himself from the table, immediately walked into his office, and closed the door. On the fourth ring, Young answered.
“Mr. McGiven,” he said.
“Director Young,” The Chief of Staff said. The greetings out of way, McGiven started with the reason for his call.
“Director, I don’t suppose you just saw the Litchfield interview on MGN?” he asked.
“No, Sir I did not,” Young answered before continuing. “However, I am aware his communication teams have been busy briefing journalists all over the world on the positives of the Russian commitment in Adwalland.”
“Well, it’s been over a couple of months since the Secretary has had a full update,” McGiven responded using his boss as a stick, having just been put in his place by the Director.
“Yes I’m aware that is the case, Mr. McGiven,” Young countered dismissively.
“I will have my office arrange a briefing for you if you feel the Secretary needs one,” Young continued in measured tones knowing that his calls were monitored despite the encryption software before ending the call, annoyed that he had interrupted his dinner for something he could have requested by secure email.
Interview completed, Thomas thanked Jessica and with Mikhail left the studios of MGN in his Armored Mercedes Benz S500.
Pulling out his phone, he rang Nara first in London to see how she was.
“You did very well, my Thomas!” she said before he said anything referring to the interview he had just given.
“You saw it then, darling,” he chuckled.
“You put that little Jelep in her place!” she responded with passion before launching into an update on Victoria, who was still calling home once a day while she got used to boarding school.
The update exhausted, Nara finished off the call with a confirmation as to their table guests for the annual TLH senior team dinner at the weekend at Farrow Hall, their country retreat in Sussex.
Domestic obligations out of the way Thomas then emailed Louise whose BlackBerry was never off and asked her to ask Angus to invite Mrs. Elizabeth Field and a guest that he knew, if she accepted, would be a fellow officer.
He also instructed to put her on his table, as well as making sure that the new Russian Ambassador to Adwalland and his wife were on it as well.
He had decided to invite Rebecca because she had asked to see him so to provide with her an update on matters in Adwalland.
It was something he hadn’t expected, so he wondered if that meant the British was about to pull the plug with respect to his formal request that the Prime Minister and Trade and Industry secretary make some kind of formal statement of support for the British companies investing in the country due to the Americans increasing counter briefings.
With what he just said on television and not to mention having put the ball into play with Steve over the last month Thomas knew at some point that would almost certainly happen and now it appeared it was.
He just needed to make sure that whatever happened in the game between Russia and the U.S. with respect the Naval Base, his interests were protected.
Reaching Aureole Charlie Palmer’s restaurant on 135th and 42nd Street, Mikhail got out of the car first checked the environment, then allowed Thomas to get out and enter the restaurant. As he did so, he spotted the Black Cadillac SUV sitting across the street.
“I see we have a friend Mikhail?” Thomas noted.
“FBI,” Mikhail answered earning a nod in return from Thomas over the fact that they were keeping tabs on him as they walked into the restaurant together.
Greeting the receptionist on the front desk he asked if Ambassador Fielding had arrived at the restaurant.
“Yes sir, he’s there already, sitting at the table,” the pretty lady answered with a smile before gesturing for him and Mikhail to follow her.
Twice married, hard-nosed, no-nonsense Jack Fielding was a career diplomat who previously had been a Special Advisor to the President George Bush Junior on African Affairs, and before that when the French ran the forward operating base a former Ambassador to Djibouti and now ran his own strategic consulting firm on business development.
James Weston had set up this meeting, on the premise that “If you’re going to be taking fucking heat on the Adwalland investment from our cousins then I suggest you get your own voice within the floors of the houses,” he had said, making reference to the lack of friends that TLH had in the congress and senate.
Reaching the table he found James, tie undone as usual, in his Saville Row uniform of a pinstripe grey suit, while the ambassador wore a uniform that most New York businessmen preferred of a regular Brooks Brothers dark blue suit though, in his case, his tie was made up and because he was a former public servant he had a little American flag pin on his lapel.