Episode 116

Washington D.C., Undisclosed Date

The President was exhausted. After three full months in office, he still had no more idea how to navigate D.C. politics than when he started. It was an inevitable problem for an outsider, of course, and he wasn’t the first to face it. However, it definitely took a toll. Campaigning had been no picnic, but this made it seem like a walk in the park. He had been elected to do things, but all he seemed to do was sit in endless meetings and peruse the countless documents foisted on him. Meanwhile, all the action seemed to take place in the building next door.

The more he saw of how things really worked, the more he missed his days as a CEO. In that world, he was the master; here, he was just a dilettante who had no place in the halls of power. Just three years and nine months to go, he groaned as he returned from yet another unproductive trek to the House. Seven years and nine months if he was denied parole. How did prisoners do it, he wondered. They probably were of far more limited vision. If only somebody had told him that the President was the most powerless man in the world, he never would have sought the job. Well, of course he would. What had that guy said about Everest? Because it’s there.

When the President arrived at the Oval Office, he looked forward to a rare moment of privacy. Instead, he was greeted by an anxious secretary. Or was she somebody important? There were so many of these people, it was hard to tell. If she was in the Oval Office, she must have something significant to say. Next time, he would go straight to the bathroom. He wouldn’t be bothered by anybody in the bathroom. Probably.

“What?” he demanded, though it came out as more of a grunt than he had planned.

The woman looked mortified. Well, she had looked like that even before he spoke. The President suspected she was one of those people who came across as perpetually beleaguered. Give her two weeks in his job, and she’d know beleaguered. That’s just what this damned place did to you, though. She probably was a smiling young intern when she started. Now, mortification had set in. How sad. No, how useful. Perhaps he should adopt a perpetually beleaguered look. He suspected that he already had one and made a mental note to avoid mirrors except before public appearances.

The woman hesitated, but his scowl cured her reticence. “It’s another note from that Russian fellow, Mr. President,” she blurted out. “He’d like to meet.”

The President stared at her. “Which Russian fellow? There’s more than one, you know.”

“The same one,” she replied meaningfully, clearly hesitant to speak the man’s name aloud. What was she afraid of? They were in the most secure building on the planet.

“He’s a persistent bastard, I’ll give him that. Tell him to contact State if he needs to talk to us. There’s only one Russian that the President talks to.”

To his surprise, the woman did not scurry off. “He’s not with the embassy, sir.”

“Then tell him to fuck off,” the President barked. Now the woman scurried off, but he recalled her. “Hold on. He’s not a donor is he?”

The woman didn’t seem to understand.

“Check with Staff. If he’s a donor, let me know.”

“And if he’s not, sir?”

“Then tell him to fuck off.”

After the woman left, the President relaxed onto the couch and took off his shoes. “William, how is this asshole even getting through? Don’t we have people for that?” He closed his eyes. “I’ll bet nobody else had a problem with this sort of shit.”

The question and comment had been directed at William Diggs, chief of his permanent Secret Service detachment. As the President had discovered, Secret Service agents were less like action heroes and more like butlers. The main differences was that butlers drew more respect and fewer bullets.

William shrugged and replied vaguely. “Everybody brings their own style to the office, sir.”

“Unbelievable. Like I have time to deal with every dimwit out there. I’m the goddamn President. I’ve got things to do.”

“As you say, sir.”

“Don’t give me that noncommittal shit, William,” he shouted. “It’s just you and me here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take that damned TRF bill. Everybody wants me to drop it. Fucking media. What would you do in my position?”

The President knew that William would skirt the question. The guy always seemed uncomfortable when asked for his opinion and had a formidable array of techniques for evading such requests. That’s what made it so much fun to try to get a rise out of him.

From what he’d heard, William had been with the service for decades. It would be great to be the first President to break that aloof facade of his. But would he be the first? Maybe William broke it with everybody after a short while. The man was impenetrable. The President wondered what he was like with his family. Did he even have one?

“It’s not my place to say, sir,” came the inevitable response.

The President sat up and gave William a steely look.

“Cut that crap. I’m ordering you, as the President of the United fucking States of goddamned America, as your President, to tell me what the goddamned piss-fuck hell you think, you shit-tard.”

“Please mind your blood pressure, sir. I’ve served five presidents including you and have no desire to serve a sixth yet.”

Though it sounded thoughtful, something about the sentiment reeked of condescension. Was he the worst President the man had served? Not after only three months. Or maybe that was something to be proud of. Most Presidents probably weren’t fully hated until at least a year or two in. Still, he knew the type. The fellow was like a good salesman, with lots of experience handling strong personalities. Was that what he was? A “strong personality”? If so, whose fault was that? How else could you get to be President?

William smiled. “You should meet with Karkov.” That was the Russian the secretary must have been going on about. Obviously, the guy had some pretty good connections. Probably some oligarch flinging money around. Well, perhaps some of that money could find it’s way to …

No, fuck that. He wasn’t going to be managed. Nobody told the President what he could or couldn’t do — especially, not some glorified salesman. Wait, not a salesman. A nagging nursemaid. That’s what William was like. Maybe it was time for the fellow to retire. A President should have somebody who would stand in awe of him, not some old crone.

“Since you like this Karkov so much, why don’t you go fuck him. I’ll give you time off.” With that, the President lay back down and closed his eyes for a quick nap.

The first sign that something was amiss came three days later on a golf outing. The President had only managed six over par and was in a foul humor. While waiting for his helicopter to arrive, he fumed about how much he hated this damned course. There was a reason it was way out in the boonies. No real golfer would want to waste their time on it. But a donor was a donor, even if he belonged to a crappy club.

The President was so distracted that he didn’t realize anything was amiss until a Secret Service agent grabbed his arm.

It was somebody new, and the President had already launched into a diatribe when he noticed the incoming helicopter. There was something erratic about its movement, almost like the thing was in slow motion. Nobody seemed to have any idea what was going on, and his bodyguards rushed him behind the clubhouse. He wondered whether the pilot would recover or crash. A loud smashing sound announced that the issue had been decided. Fortunately, there were no bystanders. The clubhouse itself had been vacated for the visit and, per protocol, his golfing partners had departed before him. Why was that, he wondered? Shouldn’t the boss be the first to leave? It was just another piece of idiocy that made no sense to him.

Despite William’s protestations that he needed to evacuate, the President insisted on staying. It wouldn’t look good if he fled at the first sign of trouble, especially if there really wasn’t any. Shouldn’t they check on the helicopter pilot? The thing was an unfortunate accident, and there clearly was no threat. These Secret Service types would try to keep him sealed in a protective bubble if he let them. Was that any way to run the world? People aren’t afraid of a man in a bubble. With a sigh, William and two agents remained with the President while two others materialized near the clubhouse and proceeded to investigate the crash.

The billowing flames didn’t bode well for survivors, and the Secret Service agents approached slowly. They still seemed on guard, eyes searching their surroundings. Well, it could be some sort of attack, the President supposed. Maybe this was a diversion. He suddenly felt less secure. Were there hidden assailants? William didn’t seem worried and, despite himself, the President found this reassuring. Now that he thought about it, why would someone blow up the helicopter before he boarded it?

Besides, the entire area had been carefully vetted before he began playing. They even put two snipers on top of the clubhouse. He thought this was ridiculous overkill, but they told him that it was standard practice. Wait, if there was something suspicious, wouldn’t those snipers have spotted it? He was pretty sure they were the two agents that had appeared out of nowhere before.

The President tried to peer out from behind the wall of the clubhouse. William blocked him.

“I’ll pull back if anything happens,” he protested, but William shook his head.

“It’s not like in the movies, sir. If there’s an explosion you won’t have time to pull back.”

The President could sense the silent snickering. Only a civilian would think something so absurd. Well, yeah, he was a civilian. Try reading the constitution, pal. That’s what the commander in chief is.

His thoughts suddenly took a very different direction. If that accident had taken place a few minutes later, he would be burning in the wreck. The reward for all that hard work and struggling to get to the top would be five minutes of “Mr. President” before burning to death. He wouldn’t be the guy who changed the world. He’d be the hapless schmuck who died comically in a helicopter accident. He thought of the inferno he had just witnessed. No, not comically. It would hurt like hell. He began trembling.

There was no explosion, but the side door suddenly burst off the helicopter. A naked man emerged from the inferno, apparently unconcerned about the wreckage and flames. William cursed under his breath, then grabbed the President by the collar and dragged him into the open.

“I want you to see this,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “That pilot is dead because of you. Any of us who are killed here will have died because of you. Because you were too stupid to listen.”

For some reason, the President felt no surprise or outrage at being berated in this fashion. What did stun him was that William was the one berating him. The man actually had a spine. Well, he knew that already since the guy had signed up to be a meat shield. But this was different. He wondered whether he was starting to like the man. Maybe he should fire him for insolence.

The naked man looked around and spotted the two Secret Service agents. He smiled.

“It seems I’ve come to the right place, then.”

Both had their guns drawn, and one of them ordered him to the ground. When there was no sign of compliance, they opened fire. William brusquely pushed the President to the ground.

“Keep down, sir.”

“He doesn’t even have a gun,” he protested but remained down.

William positioned himself in front of the President, who had a vacant look. The man really was acting as a meat shield.

“He soon will,” the agent explained. “And there is a danger of a ricochet.”

None of the bullets seemed to affect the man. Were they using dummy rounds? It felt like a Hollywood set. Instinctively, the President scanned his surroundings for cameras. Perhaps the whole thing was an elaborate put-on. He snapped back to reality.

The man didn’t seem intent on killing the two agents. They tried to tackle him and failed. All their attempts at striking, wrestling, or dragging him failed as well. Their hands simply slipped off. One agent grabbed the intruder around the waist, clasping his hands together tightly behind the man’s back.

A cracking sound was followed by screams. The agent was on the ground, vainly trying to support one limp, broken hand with the other. His colleague stood over him, evidently deciding whether to help him or attack the man. He raised his gun and prepared to fire, but William shouted that he could hit the President. The agent circled around in front of the man, and paced him, walking backward and continually firing. When he was out of ammunition, he sprinted toward William and helped usher the President away from the approaching man.

The clubhouse was in the middle of a field. They had told the President that this made it good for spotting threats. Unfortunately, that also made it bad for hiding from them. The man could obtain a gun easily enough from the fallen agent, and there was no telling how fast he could run. William and the three uninjured agents formed a circle around the President and slowly backed around the clubhouse toward the front door.

The man showed no sign of hurrying. Instead, he sauntered back toward the fallen agent as the small group made its way into the building. Once inside, William barricaded the main door and located a suitable basement room.

Outside, the intruder apologized to the fallen agent in advance for his rudeness. He started to remove the man’s pants but realized they weren’t his size. Paying the agent no further mind, he once again proceeded toward the clubhouse. The two snipers reassumed their positions on the roof, and a steady stream of .50 caliber rounds greeted him.

The front door burst off its hinges and fell to the ground, and the naked man proceeded to the stairs. The President was huddled in the basement, with no idea what was going on above. How long did it take for reinforcements to arrive? He hoped the military’s level of readiness was better than this. He asked William whether this would be on the news, but the man said nothing. There was a cracking sound, and the door to the basement swung open. A volley of gunfire was directed at the intruder.

“Really? In here? Aren’t you worried about hitting him?” The man gestured contemptuously at the President, who was cowering behind a table, then looked at the two agents and motioned them to put their guns down. His face suddenly lit up.

“William?”

William nodded. “Karkov.” His gun was still drawn.

“You fucking traitor,” the President spat out.

Karkov smirked. “I wouldn’t show your back to this one, William.”

William didn’t move a muscle. “It’s been a while.”

The President had been spewing a nonstop stream of invective, and Karkov glanced at him with an amused expression. “This is him, right? Quite the mouth.”

In response to a terse nod from William, Karkov burst into laughter. “My god, you’ve got the worst job in the world.”

William glared at him.

“Now, that’s resentment. What have I ever done to earn your resentment, William?”

William sighed and, faster than the President could have imagined, put a bullet in the other agent’s head. He quickly pointed the gun back at Karkov, moments before the two snipers appeared in the doorway.

“Keep him in your sights,” he ordered, quickly executing them both once their attention was on the intruder.

William quietly holstered his gun and looked at Karkov. “If you’d waited, he would have come around. They always do.”

Karkov slapped him on the back and smiled. “I got bored.”

William slowly shook his head and looked at him. “You’re cleaning this up.”

“I need a chat with your President, boys,” Karkov announced to the room, then put his hand over his mouth as if first noticing that all the other agents were dead. He looked at William.

“Do you think any of them are my size?” Before the man could reply, Karkov decided that they were not. “I don’t suppose you have a spare pair of pants? Oh, never mind. I guess he’ll just have to make peace with having my schlong out.”

He walked over and put his arm around the President. “I’d have dressed for the occasion, but… well, I’m sure you understand.”

Locating a small lunchroom, Karkov dragged the President in and closed the door. Before he did so, he called out to William. “You can watch through the glass if that’s your thing. It is a very impressive schlong.”

William rolled his eyes and disappeared up the stairs.

Before they were even seated, the President started barking threats and commands.

Karkov listened patiently for a moment, then calmly interrupted him.

“You are to sit quietly and listen. If you cannot to that, I’ll have a more pleasant chat tomorrow with your successor.”

“You fucki…”

Karkov raised an eyebrow and put his finger in the air. “What did I just say? Repeat it back to me.”

“You’ll kill me if I don’t shut up.”

“It lacks my poetry, but close enough.”

Karkov sighed. “I’ll be frank. I’m not a big fan of democracies. With a king, I just need to work things out with one guy every few decades. They tell their son, he tells his, and everybody knows what’s what. With a democracy, you have some new bonehead every few years, and each thinks he’s some sort of pontiff of democracy, freedom, apple pie, and all that rah-rah. Well, you’re not. You’re just some schmuck who sits in a fancy chair because a lot of other schmucks let you.”

“Ordinarily, I avoid democracies. Everyone knows that it’s the worst form of government. Even the Athenians despised it. Back then, it was an insult to call a city a democracy. I try to avoid people too stupid to prefer a sensible form of government. Unfortunately, that isn’t possible when the dominant country in the world is a democracy, infecting everyone with the diseased minds of a peasantry run amok. Not that I care. The world will do as the world pleases, and I will do as I please.”

“For almost a century, I’ve had to deal with you people. And every four or eight years, like clockwork, there’s somebody new to instruct. Most of them are capable of a civil conversation. Some believe me, some don’t. If not, proofs are offered. It’s all very simple. But every now and then, I get some imbecile too vain and stupid to see beyond his microscopic dick. There was a fellow named Nixon, I recall. And no, before you ask, I didn’t have anything to do with all that. I don’t engage in political intrigue, assassination, or other such nonsense. If I’m going to kill you, I’ll do it myself, and you’ll see me coming.”

Karkov leaned in with an earnest expression. “Would you like me to kill you?” When no response was forthcoming, he shrugged. “Well, it’s a standing offer.”

“I’ve learned that, with people like you, a more dramatic display can help set the mood. You’ve seen that I can’t be killed by bullets or fire.”

There was no response, and Karkov smiled. “You can reply. I’m not going to bite.”

“That’s impossible,” the President stammered.

“Not at all. See, my teeth are nowhere near you. Oh, you mean that. Yes, it is quite impossible. But it happened anyway. That’s why I’m here. To tell you that I exist. In the old days, the introduction would have been made with a card on a silver tray. Or the head of a king. Whatever it took. Unfortunately, these days I am required to exercise a little more tact. You know — the media, and all that.”

The President suddenly perked up. “You and me both, pal. Fucking media jackals. Look, I hear you.”

Karkov eyed the man with amusement.

“Just let me out of here, and I promise you’ll never be bothered by them again,” he continued.

“That’s very nice, but not the point,” Karkov replied. He put his hand to his mouth. “Oh my goodness, do you think this is a hostage situation?”

“What else would you call it?”

Karkov leaned in amiably and put his hands on the President’s. “Oh dear, I fear I’ve committed a grave faux pas. I grew up in a different culture, you see, and I’m not familiar with all your customs.”

“You blew up a helicopter and killed several of my men.”

“Not to quibble, but I crashed a helicopter, and William killed those men. I’m not sure whether they are technically ‘your men’, but I don’t profess to know the details of their employment.”

The President was about to snap at the man but thought better of it. “You dragged me here against my will. That makes it a hostage situation.”

Karkov laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. We’re just having a business chat. You’re a difficult man to get an appointment with, so I went ahead and made one anyway.”

“Look, I’ll be happy to meet with you. I’ll invite you to the White House, and we can have a proper chat.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Karkov replied. “But why wait? We’re both here, and we’re both busy men. Who knows when our schedules will align again.”

Without warning, the President burst into tears. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Kill you? Why would I want to do that? Once I take the trouble to educate you, killing you is pointless. Why would I waste my time? Of course, if you fail to be educated — well, that’s a different story.” He looked at the President. “I heard you weren’t quick on the uptake, but now I just feel sorry for you. You’re definitely in way over your head. Are you sure you don’t want me to kill you? It’s not a favor I offer everyone, but I’ve decided I like you.”

“Please …,” the President whimpered.

With an air of distaste, Karkov used the man’s own tie to dab away his tears. “There, there. Killing you is a huge inconvenience, so let’s save that for later.” In response to the look on the President’s face, he quickly amended this. “Or never. Never works too. As I said, it’s a standing offer. Unless you make it obligatory, which would disappoint me.”

“And William? Is he in on this too?” the President asked.

Karkov gave a light laugh. “No, he’s as loyal as they come. He’s just been through this before.”

“He killed those men.”

“It’s his first time doing that. I think. Quite impressive, really. I suppose a man in his position is expected to make quick decisions. My guess is that he judged it to be the lesser evil. The alternative would have been a lot more deaths, I expect.” Karkov looked at the ceiling. “I think he’ll hold this against me for a long time.”

He returned his attention to the President. “Fortunately, human lives are short, so a ‘long time’ isn’t so long. You may not believe this, but he’s tried to kill me several times over the years. He’s also seen me introduce myself to various Presidents. Some are simple, others require more … effort. I’ll admit, it is nice to see a familiar face. It feels like we’ve been through a lot together.” He smiled. “I’m guessing he’ll try to kill me again if he has the opportunity. I just caught him off guard this time. Of course, it’s futile. I can’t be killed.”

“If he knows he can’t kill you, why would he keep trying?”

Karkov’s face lit up. “You’re not so stupid, after all. He’s doing his job, even if it’s an impossible one. He really is willing to die, you know. But, that works well for me too. I need to show you what I am, and he needs to do his job. I do my best to make it easy, of course. As a courtesy, I chose this time and place to avoid unwanted attention. That doesn’t just benefit me; it allows you to disavow the whole thing later on. Unfortunately, I didn’t think he’d end up having to kill his men. Ah well, spilled milk and all that.”

Karkov adopted a serious tone. “You’ll do nothing about William, understand? I’ve grown fond of the man. Loyalty is a scarce commodity in this age, and I hate to see it squandered.” He looked the President over with distaste.

“Anyway, I digress. I’m not here to talk about William. I’m here to tell you a bit about myself. Think of this as getting to know your neighbor. The neighbor you never knew you had, and may wish you didn’t have, but isn’t going anywhere … well, ever. You don’t need to tell me about yourself. I already know all I need to know. Whatever I didn’t know before, I learned in the last ten minutes. Besides, millions of idiots picked you. That alone tells me all I need to know about you. You’re just a bunch of idiots glued into one big idiot. That’s why I hate presidents. Now, kings — well, those are a different matter. It takes a lot to really know a king.” He glanced at the door in thought, before returning his attention to the President.

“Incidentally, I’m a King.”

“Of what?” the President asked, feeling somewhat hopeful. The man was crazy, but didn’t seem to want to kill him. He hadn’t even killed the Secret Service agents. That was William. He suppressed a rising anger. Once he was free, he would deal with William. William was the real traitor.

“A country long dead, even to history,” Karkov replied. “But that doesn’t matter. A King is a King until he dies or abdicates, and I’ve done neither.” He thought for a second. “Well, I suppose, by that token, I’m still married too.”

He looked at the President in disappointment. “Aren’t you going to ask about her? It’s rude not to ask after the wife. Well, let me tell you — she’s quite a gal.” He leaned in with a cruel expression. “You should pray you never meet her. I’m her better half, and that’s saying a lot.”

Karkov smiled, and adopted a plastic and practiced air. “Anyway, we’re here to chat about business. You’re a businessman. I’m not a businessman, but I’ve owned quite a few businessmen and executed quite a few more. So, there’s that. First, I’ll tell you about me.”

The President was about to say something, but Karkov held up his finger. “It’s impolite to interrupt.”

“I cannot grow old. I cannot be cut. I cannot be dissolved. I cannot be deprived. I cannot be defiled. I cannot be entombed. I cannot be tormented. I cannot be maddened. Those are eight of my protections, loosely translated. I have many more. It is considered unwise to reveal one’s protections. Do you know why I did so to you?”

The President shook his head but inwardly cringed. If a kidnapper wasn’t wearing a mask, didn’t that mean he planned to kill you from the start?

“No, not because I’m going to kill you,” Karkov explained. Was he clairvoyant? The President worried that he was getting sucked into the man’s madness.

“I already said I won’t,” he continued. “Dead men cannot feel fear. You are worthless to me unless you know the truth and fear me. This will avoid inconvenient misunderstandings and awkward mistakes. You must know enough to fear me, but not enough to delude yourself into thinking you can use it against me. Besides, it does a man no harm to reveal his anatomy to a worm. The worm can do nothing with this knowledge, unless the man sits still and allows it to burrow into his eye.”

Karkov reached over and put his hand on the President’s. “And you, my friend, are not even that worm. We’re much farther apart than that, and not just because I’m handsome and clever and wickedly modest. Even were I to allow it, to encourage it, to tell you all there was to know about me and sit still while you try, you still would not be able to harm me. So, you see, the worm is a bigger threat to you than you are to me. It can bite and you can be bitten.”

Fear didn’t prevent the President from giving Karkov a nasty look.

“If you can think of it, it won’t work,” he continued. “So, don’t do it. If you do, it will then be my turn, and I tend to hit pretty hard.” He looked off into the distance for a moment before returning his attention to the President. “You may think I’m trying to dissuade you because I’m afraid you will succeed. Disabuse yourself of that notion. I’m merely trying to avoid inconvenience and an excess of violence. I take no pleasure in hurting others, or depriving mortals of their fleeting lives.”

Suddenly, Karkov grew chipper. “But enough threats. I’ve made my point. You can call me Karkov, just like we’re old friends. And before you ask: no, I’m not Russian. I don’t know why everyone thinks I am. What I am is simply a man who wishes to do business with you, Mr. President.”

Despite the circumstances, the President felt a sense of relief at these words. This was an arena he was comfortable in. Home turf. If there was one thing he was confident in, it was his ability to negotiate business deals. Maybe he could even negotiate his way out of this. Or at least stave the madman off until help arrived. What was taking so long?

“All right, what do you have in mind?” he asked.

Karkov grinned. “I’m glad you asked. It’s nothing specific. I just want to let you know that I exist, and that from time to time we may be of use to one another. Also, that you shouldn’t bother trying to capture me or kill me or manipulate me, because that will only serve to annoy me. You don’t want to annoy me.”

The President was genuinely confused. “I’m really not sure what to make of that. Is this some sort of shakedown?”

Karkov smiled. “What you call it is of no consequence to me. But be glad that I’m on your side. You’ve seen others of my kind.”

The President shook his head.

“It wasn’t a question. I mean that you have. Not you personally, but your government is aware of them. I’m sure that some of them are willingly or unwillingly in your employ, reserved for this or that unsavory task. You should look into it.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Oh no, I don’t care about that. If they’re weak enough to be captured or stupid enough to sign up, do as you please with them.”

Karkov rose to leave. “As a test of your new administration, I’ll let you clean this up. Don’t worry, I’m sure William will be of invaluable assistance. After all, he’s responsible for much of the mess.”

“As a practical matter, it’s best if you don’t tell anyone about me or this conversation. If I see anything about me in the media, I’ll have no reason to be discreet. I’ll just cut loose and have some fun.”

“Is that a threat?” demanded the President, regaining some of his former confidence now that his life seemed safe.

Karkov thought for a moment. “Sure. Oh, and I doubt that reinforcements will arrive soon, but I’d prefer not to make a noisy exit. Either way is fine, though. I won’t hold it against you, since I did drop in unannounced and do bear some small responsibility for this turn of events. However, it will mean a lot more cleaning up for you and William. It can serve as further proof of my protections if you like, and —” He looked at his own naked body. ” — at least my clothes won’t suffer. I’ll have you know that I was wearing a rather nice bespoke suit when the helicopter crashed. But I won’t charge you for that.”

“How generous,” the President grumbled.

Karkov shrugged, but then gave the President a stern look. “Grumble all you like, but do as you’re told. And remember what I said about William.” He smiled. “I’d hate to be disappointed.”

Before he reached the door, he turned. “Just in case you’re thinking something silly, I should warn you. Those of my kind that your people have seen are all weakly protected. Two’s, maybe some Four’s. You don’t know what that means, but it’s like it sounds. They’re easy to defeat and control. I’m not. I’m the highest you’ve seen, and you’d best pray that I’m the highest you ever do see.”

“So, there’s somebody above you?” the President asked. “Aren’t you worried I’ll go over your head?”

Karkov smiled. “There’s only one. If you see her, it won’t be for a chat. I’m not a businessman, but I’m a man with whom you can do business. She has only one business, and you won’t like it.”

As he pulled the door open, he added over his shoulder, “For the record, I stand beside her, not below her, whatever our numbers may be.”