"It's tit for tat, sir."
"If it's tit for tat, shouldn't we strike a French theme park on American soil?"
The Joint Chiefs of Staff sat stunned for several ticks of the clock. They exchanged uncertain glances.
"Er, Mr. President," the defense secretary said, "the Pentagon has no intelligence on any French theme parks on US. soil."
"I don't think there are any," added the nationalsecurity adviser, reaching for his briefcase. Everyone reached for their briefcases and began digging through briefing papers and intelligence abstracts.
The President turned to the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, who had thus far sat through the meeting with his mouth shut and his hands folded.
"What do our ground assets in Paris tell us?" he asked.
"Nothing," the CIA director said morosely. "I regret to inform the President that they were rounded up the first day by the DGSE."
"Their covers were blown the first day of the crisis!"
"We have reason to believe their covers were blown the day they hit Paris."
The President looked his disbelief.
"I know how this looks, sir," the CIA director said helplessly. "But you have to understand, it's an exceedingly difficult language to learn. We drill and drill our people, but when they get into the field, they stumble over the words something fierce. Even the simple words. Like yes. It's pronounced 'we,' but there's no w. It's all goddamn vowels, not one of them an e. "
The President said bitterly, "Obviously we've got another no-win Somalia-style situation on our hands."
"The Somalis speak French, too," the CIA, director volunteered hopefully.
"Do you have any helpful suggestions?" asked the President.
"I have a scenario for introducing Valium into the French drinking-water supply."
"What good will that do?"
"Our people think if we can get the French calmed down, they might get off their high horses-or at least enunciate more slowly, thus putting our agents on a level playing field with their agents, linguistically speaking-"
Everyone stared at the CIA director until the defense secretary said, "Got any Valium on you?"
"In my briefcase."
"Now would be an opportune time to indulge yourself."
While the CIA chief began rooting around, all eyes fell upon the President of the United Stated expectantly.
"I have the Vice President trying to reach the Beasley people on the net. Maybe they can shed some light on this."
"Shouldn't we explore all options?" the JCS chair pleaded.
"We are exploring all options. I have to be able to justify any military action I take to both the American people and the citizens of France. I can't justify tit for tat."
"Did I hear the word 'tit'?" a stern female voice called from the open door.
"Oh, hi dear," said the President sheepishly.
"Mrs. President," said the JCS chair.
"Don't call her that," the President whispered urgently.
"What have I told you uniforms about using sexist language in my house?" the First Lady snapped.
"Sorry, ma'am," mumbled the defense secretary.
"It was just an expression," added the national security adviser.
"Yes, tit for tat."
The First Lady gave them all the benefit of her laser blue eyes. "How would you like it if the expression was 'dick for dock'?"
The JCS chairman looked away and played with his fingers. The President turned red. The CIA director popped his Valium.
"From now on, say 'an eye for an eye' or 'a tooth for a tooth.' Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," the Joint Chiefs chairman and the President of the United States said in little-boy voices.
"At ease, boys," said the First Lady, coming over to her husband's end of the conference table and laying before him a single sheet of fanfold computer paper.
"This just came off the net," she whispered, glaring at the director of the CIA, who was trying to sneak a peak at the paper.
TAKE NO ACTION ON BEASLEY MATTER. AGENT'S EN ROUTE. WILL REPORT AS DEVELOPMENTS WARRANT.
smith@cure.com
"We're adjourned," said the President of the United States, crumpling up the paper.
"What about our retaliatory response?" asked the secretary of defense.
"Our retaliatory response," said the President, "is about to hit the French the way that comet struck Jupiter."
The Joint Chiefs of Staff looked at one another with blank, vaguely fearful expression.
"But, Mr. President, we are your retaliatory response."
"Not for real situations," said the President, exiting the Situation Room with his wife.
Before the door slammed, the First Lady turned and showed the Joint Chiefs of Staff how pink her tongue was.
Chapter 20