And sometimes we need it. Sergeant, you're working for me now. I'll take care of things with your lieutenant. The first thing I want you to do is call the White House and ask for a woman named Alice Quarmby. Got that? That's Johnson's assistant. I need to talk to her.'

He turned to the window, stared out, and took swig another from the bottle. Abruzzi called to him, he turned and the phone.

Alice? Harry Parker. Is Blake there?'

'He's with the President, Harry.'

'Damn.'

There was a pause. 'Is it important?' So he told her.

In the Oval Office, President Jake Cazalet sat at his desk, Blake Johnson on the other side, as they reviewed the latest intelligence reports on the Irish peace process. The President's favourite Secret Service man, Clancy Smith, a tall, black Gulf veteran, stood by the door. The phone rang and Cazalet picked it up.

'Alice Quarmby, Mr President.'

'Hello, Alice, you want Blake?'

'No, Mr President, I need you.'

He straightened, aware from the tone of her voice that something was very badly wrong.

'Tell me, Alice.'

She did, and a minute later he replaced the phone and turned to Blake, genuine pain on his face, for this was a man he liked more than most, a man who had helped save his beloved daughter's life, who had saved the President himself from assassination.

Blake, sitting there in shirtsleeves, papers in front of him, said, 'What's the problem, Mr President? What did Alice say?'

Cazalet stood up and walked to the window, watching the rain drifting across Capitol Hill. He summoned up all his strength and turned.

'Blake, you're a true friend and one of the finest men I've known, and I'm going to hurt you now in the most terrible,way. At least, thank God, it's me.'

Blake looked puzzled. 'Mr President?'