know I’m heading out west. I can’t do it until I get back. Talk to Ben. And send the names to Naylor.”
“Okay. I will. Anything else happening?”
“No.”
There was silence on the phone. Benton knew that Al was waiting to hear more, hear him say he was going to nominate him secretary of state.
“Joe, I’ve been doing some thinking on Colombia, what we can do to get out of there. I think that should be a key goal and if we’re smart about it we can be looking to be out in twelve months. I’d like to be able to put that out there as a target early in the first hundred days. What do you think?”
“I think it would be great if we could do that,” said Benton.
“I’ll put a paper together.”
“Okay.”
There was silence again.
“Okay,” said Al eventually. “Well, I’ll try to see if we can meet when you’re back from the west.”
“Talk to Ben,” said Benton.
“I will.”
Benton reached forward and ended the call. He glanced at Eales.
“I’ll tell Ben to keep him out of your hair.”
Benton nodded. His core agenda was domestic. Abroad, he wanted to get American troops out of Colombia, if possible, and to minimize the presence in Pakistan. Getting out of Pakistan entirely was probably going to be impossible until late in his first term, if then. Beyond those objectives, he wanted to repair the damage that twelve years of Bill Shawcross and Mike Gartner had done to foreign relations and to use that credibility to strengthen multilateral institutions, to legitimize American leadership within those institutions, and use that leadership to promote peace and stability. “A secure and prosperous America in a secure and prosperous world.” That had been his catchphrase when he was asked about foreign policy during the campaign. His real interests—the specific things he said he would do and which the American people had elected him to do— were domestic.
Eales began tapping on his handheld.
Benton looked at him questioningly.
“I’m going to get Naylor to send you a briefing on Larry Olsen.”
~ * ~
Monday, November 29
DeGrave Marriott Hotel, Washington, D.C.
He was waiting in an armchair when Benton walked into the suite on the fourteenth floor. The senator had just hosted a gathering of nationally prominent minority leaders in the hotel’s conference center on the ground floor. Ben Hoffman had had the bright idea to get a suite upstairs, allowing Larry Olsen to slip in while the press was distracted by the photo session at the end of the meeting.
“Thanks for coming, Dr. Olsen,” said Benton.
Olsen stood up. He had an unruly shock of graying hair and a generally rumpled look to him. “They say you don’t turn down an invitation to meet with the president-elect.”
“Sit down, please.” Benton smiled. “I sense from your tone you don’t necessarily think too much of my foreign policy.”
“I think it’s too early to judge, Senator. But to be honest, I’m not sure you have a foreign policy. I think you have foreign policy values.”
“So do you like them?”
“Wait until they’re tested. Reality has a habit of doing unpredictable things to values.”
“Agreed.” Benton looked around. “You want a drink? I’m having a scotch.”
“A scotch would be good.”
“How do you take it?”
“Water.”
Benton went to the bar and poured two scotches. He handed one to Olsen. Then he sat down.
“Cheers.”
Olsen raised his glass.
Benton took a sip and savored it contemplatively. According to the briefing he had been given, Larry Olsen was an old State Department hand, fluent in Mandarin, ex-undersecretary of state for China, and with coverage of other Asian desks in the course of his career. For the last four years he had been teaching at Yale.
“You like teaching?” he said to Olsen.
“Not
“Okay. I will. Anything else happening?”
“No.”
There was silence on the phone. Benton knew that Al was waiting to hear more, hear him say he was going to nominate him secretary of state.
“Joe, I’ve been doing some thinking on Colombia, what we can do to get out of there. I think that should be a key goal and if we’re smart about it we can be looking to be out in twelve months. I’d like to be able to put that out there as a target early in the first hundred days. What do you think?”
“I think it would be great if we could do that,” said Benton.
“I’ll put a paper together.”
“Okay.”
There was silence again.
“Okay,” said Al eventually. “Well, I’ll try to see if we can meet when you’re back from the west.”
“Talk to Ben,” said Benton.
“I will.”
Benton reached forward and ended the call. He glanced at Eales.
“I’ll tell Ben to keep him out of your hair.”
Benton nodded. His core agenda was domestic. Abroad, he wanted to get American troops out of Colombia, if possible, and to minimize the presence in Pakistan. Getting out of Pakistan entirely was probably going to be impossible until late in his first term, if then. Beyond those objectives, he wanted to repair the damage that twelve years of Bill Shawcross and Mike Gartner had done to foreign relations and to use that credibility to strengthen multilateral institutions, to legitimize American leadership within those institutions, and use that leadership to promote peace and stability. “A secure and prosperous America in a secure and prosperous world.” That had been his catchphrase when he was asked about foreign policy during the campaign. His real interests—the specific things he said he would do and which the American people had elected him to do— were domestic.
Eales began tapping on his handheld.
Benton looked at him questioningly.
“I’m going to get Naylor to send you a briefing on Larry Olsen.”
~ * ~
Monday, November 29
DeGrave Marriott Hotel, Washington, D.C.
He was waiting in an armchair when Benton walked into the suite on the fourteenth floor. The senator had just hosted a gathering of nationally prominent minority leaders in the hotel’s conference center on the ground floor. Ben Hoffman had had the bright idea to get a suite upstairs, allowing Larry Olsen to slip in while the press was distracted by the photo session at the end of the meeting.
“Thanks for coming, Dr. Olsen,” said Benton.
Olsen stood up. He had an unruly shock of graying hair and a generally rumpled look to him. “They say you don’t turn down an invitation to meet with the president-elect.”
“Sit down, please.” Benton smiled. “I sense from your tone you don’t necessarily think too much of my foreign policy.”
“I think it’s too early to judge, Senator. But to be honest, I’m not sure you have a foreign policy. I think you have foreign policy values.”
“So do you like them?”
“Wait until they’re tested. Reality has a habit of doing unpredictable things to values.”
“Agreed.” Benton looked around. “You want a drink? I’m having a scotch.”
“A scotch would be good.”
“How do you take it?”
“Water.”
Benton went to the bar and poured two scotches. He handed one to Olsen. Then he sat down.
“Cheers.”
Olsen raised his glass.
Benton took a sip and savored it contemplatively. According to the briefing he had been given, Larry Olsen was an old State Department hand, fluent in Mandarin, ex-undersecretary of state for China, and with coverage of other Asian desks in the course of his career. For the last four years he had been teaching at Yale.
“You like teaching?” he said to Olsen.
“Not
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