21.2

A lone church bell sounded over the Lakes Golf Club, 32 miles south of Washington, as the President stepped up to the first tee with John Conquest, the celebrity lawyer. It was Sunday morning, and he was exactly where he wanted to be – out on the course, looking forward to an off-the-record chat with his good friend .With a gossip like John he could catch up on everyone’s life in a single round of golf. Striking the ball sweetly was a good feeling, but it was fleeting and more often than not, illusive. It was really the surrounding beauty and the chatter that inspired his constant return.

“What happened with that Marlon Sands?” John asked as they stepped ahead of the body-guards.

“He didn’t give much away.”

“No, well, what would you expect? So, what happened?”

“I told him to back off.”

“Will he listen to you?”

“He should!”

“I know he should but… will he?”

They both laughed.

“Who knows?” the President said. “It’s not him. The Committee thinks it has some kind of mandate on foreign affairs. But at the end of the day I make all the big calls.”

“Of course you should make them,” John goaded. “But we all know the weakness of democracy is that that the unelected bureaucrats always end up running the show.”

‘Well, not quite.”

Even in jest the President could never agree to this.

“But you know what I mean.”

“Of course I do.”