The Guest of Honor

by Irving Wallace

  “Another movie I enjoyed,” he said, puffing, “was Citizen Kane, with Orson Welles.”

  “I never understood it well because I did not know much about the American it was based on. It Happened One Night was easier for me because it was about a man and a woman and pure fun.”

  They went on about men and women, and Underwood grew more entranced by her sense of humor and vivacity.

  Their exchange continued without pause, and when Underwood got up to pour them each a Scotch, he realized that two and a half hours had elapsed since lunch. He had been with Noy four and a half hours, and it seemed as though ten minutes had passed.

  Handing her the drink, he knew that he owed her something. She had flown all the way from Lampang to discuss business with him, and business had not been addressed at all.

  He wanted to talk more about her, but he also wanted to be constructive and make her happy about her job.

  “Well, I’m glad you came here, Noy,” he said. “Meeting you has been delightful.”

  “For me, too, Matt,” she answered.

  “Much as I’d like to continue socializing, I know I’m not supposed to,” he said. “I know that you came here to discuss business.”

  She seemed mildly surprised. “I'd almost forgotten,” she admitted.

  “So had I.” He stared at her. “Do you want to discuss what we were expected to discuss?”

  She nodded, not too happily. “I suppose we must. The afternoon is almost gone. I’m scheduled to fly back to Lampang tomorrow. I have to justify this trip by discussing-a serious matter.”

  He nodded. “Let’s get it over with quickly and get back to more enjoyable conversation. I’m sure Marsop has told you as Morrison has told me, you and I are expected to make a trade that will satisfy each of our countries.”

  “A trade, yes.”

  “I give you something you want,” said Underwood, “and in return you give me something I need.”

  “So I was advised.”

  Underwood’s attention was devoted to her serious face. “What do you want, Noy?”

  “A generous loan for a good cause. I need American money to bolster our economy.”

  “I planned all along to give you a loan. Do you want to name a ballpark figure?”

  “A ballpark figure?” she said, puzzled.

  “An American expression that means we are in the same baseball park, not too far apart, near enough to come to an agreement. How much do you need?”

  “To survive, you understand,” said Noy. “I will give you the sum I must have to fend off two pressures—from the Communist insurgents on the far left and my army on the far right.”

  “What is the sum?” Underwood persisted.

  “I was told you could spare a higher sum, but to settle for two hundred million dollars.”

  Underwood could not contain his chuckle. “You are certainly frank, aren’t you?”

  “I am not a politician,” she said. “I must be honest. Anything else is a waste of time. Does my sum meet with your approval?”

  “It’s a bit overwhelming,” said Underwood. “Let me be honest, too. My advisors told me to offer you one hundred twenty-five million and then bargain and settle for one hundred and fifty million. Can you live with that sum, Noy?”

  “I’m afraid not, Matt.”

  “All right,” he said, setting aside his half-finished drink and putting his hands in his lap. “Why don’t we talk it over? We’ll both be honest.”

  Normally Underwood disliked the technicalities and bargaining involved in foreign affairs meetings. Whenever possible, he avoided them. But now, almost eagerly, he looked forward to an extended discussion with Noy. Speaking to her, listening to her, he was aware that he was dealing with a remarkable woman. He had never felt more comfortable.

  Consideration of the loan went back and forth, and he heard her out on the situation on Lampang and her problems as successor to her husband.

  At last Underwood came to a decision and he made it. Noy was plainly pleased, and even spontaneously reached out to touch his hand in a show of gratitude.

  “But this is a trade,” she said. “Now you must give me your demand.”

  “It’s about the lease of an air base,” he said.

  “I know, Matt. But I must know the details.”

  He outlined the details carefully for her, consulting the cards he had been given to be certain that he had it right. He told her everything that Secretary of State Morrison and Secretary of Defense Cannon had given him.

  Noy was attentive, understanding his demands, and when it was time she countered with her point of view.

  She was so logical that he found it hard to resist her, but he continued to lay out America’s needs.

  After half an hour, they arrived at a compromise.

  “Well, there we have it,” Noy said. “Are you pleased?”

  “If it satisfies you, I am pleased.”

  She gathered up her purse. “I’ve taken too much of your time. I’d better find Marsop and get back to Blair House to help the maid repack.”

  She started to rise, but he restrained her.

  “Noy, must you return to Lampang tomorrow?”

  “It was my plan. It is not urgent, but I am needed there.”

  Underwood hesitated. “In a different sense, I need you here, at least one more day.”

  She met his gaze. “But why, Matt? We have concluded our business.”

  “Only our foreign policy business,” he said. “I have not concluded my personal business.”

  She wrinkled her smooth brow. “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve had such a wonderful time with you that I hate to see it end. For one thing, I’d like to give you a closer look at Washington, take you on a guided tour. I know you’ve been here before. Did you see much?”

  “Except for the tourist visit to the White House, very little.”

  “You must see more,” Underwood said with conviction. “I’ll personally take you on a drive around Washington. Then we can have lunch, one to one, and talk about personal business.”

  “What kind of personal business?”

  “You,” said the president. “I want to know more about you. And I want you to know more about me. We should know each other, not as heads of state but as human beings.”

  She cocked her head and bathed him with a smile. “That sounds appealing. I find you almost impossible to resist.”

  “Then, don’t.”

  “Haven’t you got a heavy schedule tomorrow?”

  He grinned. “Yes, the day with you. I’ll pick, you up at Blair House at eleven twenty. Show you about. Then we can dine together at one o’clock. I’ll get you back to your guesthouse by late afternoon, in time for your return to Lampang by early morning. What do you say? It would not be courteous to veto the president on a matter like this.”

  Noy laughed. “Who says I’m going to veto you?” She rose to her feet. “I like the bill of goods you offer. It stands passed. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in the morning.”

  After Noy Sang had gone, he saw that there was still time to go to his office and see if there was anything on his desk that required his immediate attention.

  Starting for the elevator and his office, he felt in high spirits, higher than he had been in months. He hadn’t enjoyed the company of a woman as much since he had become president. He tried to reason out her effect on him. It could not be her beauty alone. He had a wife who might be considered more beautiful. He thought of Noy again, her unaffected manner and style, her forthrightness, her knowledge and intelligence, her naturalness.

  She was truly one of a kind.

  And it made him buoyant that he could have almost the entire day with her tomorrow.

  It was certain to be a memorable day.

  Then, nearing his office, one cloud remained. He must summon his chief of staff and secretary of state and inform them of what had transpired between Noy and him. He must brace himself for that confrontation.


  Entering the Oval Office, he saw that he would not have to summon his chief of staff and secretary of state. They were both already there, Blake and Morrison, each slouching on chairs on either side of the Rutherford B. Hayes desk, awaiting him. He walked around his desk, half saluting Blake and Morrison, and sat down in his leather chair, which was flanked behind the presidential flag and the Stars and Stripes.

  He glanced at the presidential flag, as if to remind himself who was really in charge here.

  He shuffled the papers on his desktop, and finally he spoke. “Well, it’s done,” he said.

  Blake tried to keep the reproach out of his voice. “You took long enough, Matt. You were penciled in for two hours with her. You were with her over five hours. Fortunately you didn’t have a heavy schedule today, except for the visit to the Contempo Museum. I can tell you the first lady was pretty upset you missed it. But still—”

  “What counts is how you made out,” said Morrison.

  “Was it five hours?” Underwood said. “It felt like two. I guess there was a lot to talk about.”

  “How did you make out?” Morrison repeated. “Did you make the swap?”

  “Oh, yes. We gave and we got.”

  “What did you give, Matt?” The secretary of state wanted to know.

  “Lampang has a lot of problems,” Underwood said evasively.

  “The whole world has,” said Morrison. “How much did you settle for? Did you have to go to one hundred fifty million?”

  “No,” said Underwood. “That wouldn’t have helped her or us.” He settled himself. “I agreed we would loan her two hundred fifty million, half of it immediately.”

  Morrison was incredulous. “You what?”

  “They need money there, and we need them.”

  “But two hundred fifty million. That’s the kind of money we might consider giving some major nation, not a mere island.”

  “It’ll be well spent, you’ll see.”

  “I mean, if you gave it to General Nakorn, I might understand it,” Morrison protested. “At least he’s totally on our side.”

  “He’s not interested in democracy. He doesn’t give a damn about the people. If he were in power, he’d wipe out the Communists. There’d be a bloodbath.”

  “But he is on our side,” Morrison implored. “He’s our kind of dictator. Noy Sang is too weak. She’s not dependable.”

  Underwood was adamant. “In my judgment she’s entirely dependable. When she has the money, she’ll turn Lampang into a real democracy. We’ll have a democracy to work with.”

  Blake suddenly intervened. “Matt—”

  Underwood faced him. “Yes, Paul?”

  Blake hesitated. It was as if he had a question to which he didn’t want to hear the answer. “All right, we know what you gave, but, Matt—what did you get?”

  “An air base, just as we wanted.”

  “Just as we wanted,” Blake said suspiciously. “You mean exactly the space we wanted?”

  Absently, Underwood doodled with a pen. “Well, not exactly. Almost, but not exactly.”

  Morrison bent forward. “Exactly was to be one hundred thirty thousand acres. How much is not exactly?”

  “Noy has obstacles to overcome. She couldn’t give one hundred thirty thousand acres and pretend Lampang was still an independent nation. I had to be sensible.”

  “What’s sensible?” Morrison demanded. “We agreed on an air base of ninety thousand acres.”

  For seconds Morrison was speechless. At last he found his voice. “That’s for Piper Cubs,” he said. “That’s not for the jets in our Air Force.”

  “We can make do,” said Underwood. He came to his feet. “I’d better get upstairs and have a few words with Alice. She must be furious about this afternoon.”

  As Underwood reached the door to start under the colonnade past the Rose Garden, Blake’s voice caught him. “You missed the big fight in Las Vegas, Matt.”

  “I quite forgot.”

  “Your man won. The challenger won the title by a technical knockout.”

  “Good, good,” said Underwood uninterestedly as he pushed the door open.

  He did not leave. He addressed his chief of staff. “Paul, what’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

  “You know,” said Blake. “You and Alice are entertaining the Senate wives for lunch. Then a press conference. In the evening the formal dinner for the governors together with their wives.”

  “Fine,” said Underwood. “The evening is on. Cancel the afternoon, except for the press conference. I mean, you and Alice can handle those women.”

  “Cancel your appearance in the afternoon before the press conference?” said Blake. “What are you going to be doing?”

  “I’ve convinced Noy Sang to stay over an extra day. I’m going to take her sightseeing and then off to a private lunch in some restaurant.” He paused. “We’ll discuss the air base further.”

  With that, he left the Oval Office.

  Once he was gone and they were alone, Blake and Morrison sat in silence.

  After a brief interval their eyes met. “What’s going on?” Morrison said, not quite to himself. “Five hours instead of two with the president of something called Lampang. A reckless loan far beyond what we agreed upon. A shrunken air base in return. Now, tomorrow, yet another day with that woman. What’s happened to President Matt Underwood?”

  “Easy,” said Blake. “It even has a name.”

  “A name?”

  “For ordinary men it’s called middle-age syndrome. Why shouldn’t that happen to a president, too?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The following morning, Matt Underwood was determined to have this day for himself, or rather for Noy and himself.

  The White House was a goldfish bowl, and escaping it had not been easy. He had begun the day with a series of lies. He called in Paul Blake and instructed him to inform the first lady that the president would be tied up for the afternoon —serious consultations with the National Space Agency—and unhappily would have to miss the Senate ladies’ tea. He expected Alice and Blake to carry on in his stead. Yes, he would be available for a press conference at four thirty. He ordered Blake not to say a word to anyone about his absence from the White House. After that he lied to Jack Bartlett, his press secretary, about his afternoon’s schedule, telling Bartlett that he had major policy decisions to make in seclusion. He expected Bartlett to invent a palatable lie for the press.

  His earliest intention had been to lie to Frank Lucas, director of the Secret Service, also, but then he had second thoughts about that. He did not mind endangering his own life without the Secret Service, but he felt he could not take the risk with Noy.

  He called Lucas in and told him the truth. He explained he had to have a confidential meeting with President Noy Sang about Lampang. Yet he wanted protection for Madame Noy more than for himself and therefore felt that it was his duty to inform Lucas.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” said Lucas, a burly ex-police captain with a wide nose that looked as if it had been punched flat long ago.

  “But I want only minimum protection,” added Underwood. “Two or three Secret Service agents at most, so that I don’t draw outside attention.”

  “Impossible,” said Lucas. “I’ll need a full shift of twelve, including several to sweep the restaurant you choose for surveillance devices and to supervise the preparation of the food in the kitchen. Understand this, Mr. President, we have a computer that lists all persons who’ve threatened you. There are at least forty thousand of those, and three hundred fifty we regard as serious threats. Disgruntled assailants have wounded or killed ten presidents and two nominees despite our protection, and we’ve lost eight agents in the line of duty.”

  “Still, I don’t want a motorcade. Can’t you cut my protection detail down to six?”

  “It depends. Six isn’t much.” Lucas considered it, determined to do his duty, but eager to please the president. “What’s your timetable and itinerar
y?”

  “I’ll have a car and driver at the South Portico just before eleven fifteen. I intend to go to Blair House to pick up Madame Noy. Then maybe an hour or two of sightseeing, the obvious sights around the city. Then I want you to find me an obscure restaurant in Georgetown—not a celebrity waterhole—someplace I’m least likely to be recognized—and reserve a booth for Madame Noy and myself.”

  Lucas shook his head. “There are no obscure restaurants in Georgetown. You’ll be recognized anywhere you go. Unless—” He ruminated over a possibility.

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless I can find one that can be closed down for the afternoon, ostensibly for repairs, and have a notice posted to that effect. Then you and Madame Noy would have the place to yourselves.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Anything is possible with the right contacts,” said Lucas. “In fact, I may have the ticket. There’s a small restaurant, the 1776 Club, in Georgetown, that has a light luncheon crowd. It’s usually almost empty at lunchtime and is quite easy to make secure. I know the owner and could talk to him. Of course, we’d have to bear the costs of the business he’d lose. I think I could talk him into that.”

  “Then do it. Book it for one o’clock. I’ll need three hours. Maybe a little longer.”

  “Done,” said Lucas. “You understand I’ll have to place an agent in the limousine with you.”

  “Acceptable,” agreed Underwood. “Our private conversation will take place during lunch.”

  “I’ll have to have at least two cars with agents to precede you and follow you. There’s no guarantee you won’t be spotted by someone.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Those blacked-out windows in the limousine will conceal us.”

  “There are no blacked-out windows in the brownstones surrounding the restaurant.”

  “I’ll take my chances, Frank. Just see that the CLOSED FOR REPAIRS sign is posted.”

  “Never mind, it will be.”

  “Know this, Frank. No one is aware of my meeting except you, my chief of staff, and the secretary of state. They won’t talk. The press doesn’t know. Even my wife doesn’t know. The only leak could come from you or your men.”