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you to confiscate all of their property in Russia—houses, yachts, you name it. I want those two guys to be left with nothing but their undershorts.”
    “This is easy to say, but not so easy to do. There are laws of confidentiality, even in Russian banking. Also, I would be seen as acting at the behest of a foreign power, which would not exactly enhance my presidential authority, would it?”
    “Maybe not—” the president began.
    “Little more to the left, sir,” Doug Latterby told him in an urgent murmur.
    “Maybe not,” the president continued, adjusting his position in his chair. “But the damage that these two men are inflicting on the social and financial fabric of America issuch that if you are disinclined to cooperate voluntarily, I’ll have to consider persuasion.”
    “Persuasion? You mean you are going to lean on me?”
    “You can put it any which way you like. But if you continue to allow Khlebnikov and Zamyatin to launder their money through Russian banks, I intend to begin a systematic reduction of financial assistance to the Russian Federation. For every one billion dollars that Khlebnikov and Zamyatin spirit out of the United States, based on FBI estimates, I will order the withholding of ten billion dollars of aid, loans, and investments.”
    There was a very long silence, interrupted by coughing and embarrassed shuffling. The president could only imagine what kind of expression Gyorgy Petrovsky had on his face.
    “Gollum angry,” said Doug Latterby under his breath. “Gollum very, very angry.”
    When at last he replied, Gyorgy Petrovsky sounded preternaturally calm, but even before his words were translated, the president could tell how furious he was. “I think we should adjourn this meeting. I require time to consider what you have suggested, and to talk to my deputies. After all, this has radically altered our relationship; don’t you think? I came into this room thinking we were political allies, equals.”
    “We still are,” the president insisted. “Nothing has changed that.”
    “You don’t think so? Allies don’t threaten one another.”
    “Allies don’t allow the scum of the earth to rob the people who matter to them, and refuse to do anything to help.”
    Gyorgy Petrovsky stood up. Doug Latterby cupped the president’s elbow in his hand to indicate that he should stand up, too.
    “I will consider very seriously what you have said, David," said Gyorgy Petrovsky. “I will give you my response as soon as I can.”
    “Listen,” said the president, “I want you to know that whatever we’re discussing here, it doesn’t affect our personal friendship.”
    “Of course not. I understand what pressure you are under. But you also have to see the situation from my point of view. Oh—before I forget, let me show you the latest picture of our two villains.”
    He took a color photograph out of his inside pocket and passed it over. Doug Latterby intercepted it and placed it in President Perry’s hand.
    “It’s okay,” said President Perry, handing it back. “I already know what these two bastards look like.”
    Gyorgy Petrovsky stiffened, and stared at President Perry in bewilderment. Then, without another word, he turned and stalked out of the Oval Office, followed hurriedly by his aides and deputies.
    “What’s wrong, Doug?” asked President Perry, turning around.
    “The photograph, Mr. President. I think you kind of missed the emphasis on our. That wasn’t Khlebnikov and Zamyatin. That was President Petrovsky’s children.”

C HAPTER E IGHT
    AMA Flight 2849, Atlanta to Los Angeles
    “Cabin crew—fifteen minutes to landing,” Tyler said over the intercom. He was sitting in the copilot’s seat now, with headphones on. “Holy shit,” he added. “I never thought in a million years that I’d ever get to say that.”
    Captain Sherman cleared his throat. “Maybe you should have switched off your intercom before you shared that little nugget with two hundred