“So, just to be clear, you’re taking a more passive approach?”
“More like wait-and-see,” Norris corrected. “I’d be fine with obliterating Kim Yong-ju’s ass and exposing him for the charlatan that he is. But he might do that on his own. And there’s no need to get involved in a protracted conflict if we don’t have to.”
“On that point, we agree,” Emma said. “Like I said before, the more we can maintain a posture of peace, the better off we’ll be when it comes to polling.”
Norris sighed. “Americans care about two things—money and safety. If you can give both of those things, you’ll be a god in their eyes.”
Emma stood and clutched her tablet close to her chest. “Sounds like you know what you want to do. And I won’t advise you otherwise.”
“Put it this way. I’m leaving the option open to striking North Korea if they keep this up. But it’s not going to be my first move.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll make sure to pass that along to the communications team.”
“Thank you,” Norris said before dismissing her.
He checked his watch. With only five minutes to prepare for his meeting with CIA director Robert Besserman, Norris needed to get moving.
“Is that all?” Norris asked.
“All for now. But let’s catch up later this afternoon. I want to hear what Besserman has to say.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Norris said. “I’ll call you later today, and we can discuss how to move forward.”
Norris waited until Emma was gone before heading over to his desk and pulling out a secret stash of bourbon. The stress was starting to get to him.
A few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. It opened and Besserman strode inside.
“Getting an early start, sir,” he said.
Norris shrugged and chuckled as he stared at his glass. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“You’re finally starting to feel the pressure of the office?” Besserman asked.
“Between North Korea’s saber rattling and the upcoming election, I’m certainly feeling something.”
Besserman settled into a chair across from Norris’s desk. “Considering all that this country has been through in our lifetime, I’m not sure this even registers a blip on the radar of challenging situations.”
Norris interlocked his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “You’re probably right. But that doesn’t change the situation we’re in.”
“You know that Kim Yong-ju is just trying to get under your skin, right?”
“He’s doing a damn good job of it.”
Besserman chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Norris asked.
“You remember that time at Timberlake Camp when Dick Larson threatened to tell everyone that you kissed Aubrey Chapman?”
Norris grunted. “How could I not? That’s burned into my memory like an enduring nightmare.”
Besserman grinned. “You haven’t even told Priscilla about that, have you?”
“It was a long time ago, Bobby.”
“But it still bugs you, doesn’t it?”
“How couldn’t it? I wanted to punch Dick Larson in the face.”
“And if you did, you both would’ve gotten sent home. But you exercised restraint, and what happened?”
“Dick ran his mouth and got into a fight.”
“And he was gone by Wednesday,” Besserman said.
Both men laughed while reminiscing about the event.
“I think your dad said I should’ve knocked his front teeth out to teach him a lesson,” Norris said.
“My dad never saw a fight that he didn’t like.”
Norris smiled. “The lone front tooth dangling from the top of his gums was proof of that point.”
“He didn’t take anything from anybody,” Besserman said. “That’s pretty much how he wound up with a purple heart.”
“He received a purple heart from his time during the war?”
Besserman nodded. “Your father never told you that story?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Well, it was a staple for my dad, telling it at every dinner party I think he ever attended. The version I remember is that they were in France after storming the beaches of Normandy, and a man made a rude comment about your dad. My dad approached the man, who looked like a German soldier. When he pulled out a grenade and yanked out the pin, my dad grabbed the explosive device off the floor and hurled it through a window. The grenade detonated in the street, sparing everyone inside. Several soldiers proceeded to beat the German before taking him prisoner. If my dad hadn’t acted so quickly, who knows if either of us would even be alive?”
“Wow,” Norris said, his eyes widening. “I’ve never heard that story.”
“It’s a good one,” Besserman said. “And all true. My father was adamant about not embellishing war stories.”
“So what you’re trying to say is that I need to pounce on the grenade and throw it outside to avoid disaster?” Norris asked with a wry grin.
“If you can do that,” Besserman said. “Otherwise, I’d bomb the shit out of Kim Yong-ju. It’d shut him up for good.”
Norris worked over his toothpick before responding. “I’m not sure that’s the most prudent move.”
“Of course not, but it’s the one that’d make you a hero to the world—if it came to that, of course,” Besserman said. “I’d never recommend you doing that unless the situation called for it.”
“I understand. I’d rather my tenure be one known for peace.”
“But you don’t always get that choice,” Besserman said. “In the meantime, the agency is hunting down the truth. I’ll keep you posted on what’s happening and let you know if such an action is necessary.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Norris said.
Besserman stood and offered his hand to Norris. The two men shook.
“It’s good catching up with you, Bobby,” Norris said. “You know I trust you implicitly.”
Besserman nodded. “It’s a trust I take seriously.”
The CIA director exited the room, leaving Norris alone with his thoughts. His presidency had suddenly become more difficult—and Norris wasn’t about to back down from the challenge, whatever decision needed to be made.
CHAPTER 8
Bridger, Montana
HAWK SPREAD THE HAY out in the trough before calling for Tucker and Dusty. The two Appaloosas galloped toward him and went straight for their morning ration. He rubbed the manes of both animals before letting them eat in peace.
“You two better be good for Alex,” Hawk said. “If not, I’m going to have some stern words for you when I get back.”
Hawk felt a tug on his pants and looked down to see John Daniel clad in his pajamas and slippers and clutching a blanket.
“Do you really have to go, Daddy?” John Daniel asked.
Hawk knelt next to his son before tousling his blond curly locks. “I won’t be gone that long, son. And mommy will be here for you.”
John Daniel’s lip protruded as he looked at the ground. “But I want you to tuck me in at night.”
Hawk lifted John Daniel up and set him on top of the fence so they could see eye to eye. “I know you like having me around. And believe me, I like being around, too. Reading Curious George stories to you every night is sometimes the favorite part of my day. But there’s another little boy like you whose daddy has been missing for quite some time.”
John Daniel furrowed his brow. “And does that boy miss his daddy?”
“Oh, very much so. And if I don’t go help his daddy, he can’t come home. So if I promise to come back, will you let me go?”
John Daniel scowled as he thought in silence for a moment. “Sure,” he finally said with a shrug.