The acting U.S. ambassador learned forward. He wore a sly grin that let William know he had something up his sleeve.
“You see, Wil, professionally, I’m a diplomat—I’m scheduled to be transferred to America’s diplomatic mission in Madrid, Spain, when the San Francisco banker arrives,” Acting Ambassador Wilson explained to his rather confused American guest. “Evan here, another professional diplomat, will officially become the Embassy Charge d’Affaires. Now, Ambassador George Marye, he IS NOT a professional diplomat. Like a majority of America’s ambassadors, he only got the job because he wrote one big-ass check to the Democratic Party when Woodrow Wilson was running for president. Truth of the matter is George Marye was really hoping to become the America’s Ambassador to the Court of Saint James; but he didn’t have any luck there…
William noticed how the acting U.S. ambassador seemed to be looking far off into the distance for a moment before speaking the remainder:
“…Guess he didn’t write the Democratic Party a big enough check, eh, Wil?” he jokingly theorized.
Pity! William thought.
“However, from my experience, I can recognize talent when I see it,” the acting U.S. Ambassador declared as he quickly flipped open a manila file with an enthusiasm that bordered on glee. William recognized the file as the exact same one Evan Wheeler had in his possession earlier that morning at Kresty Prison. The acting American ambassador buried his head in the file’s contents while he spoke:
“For one so young, you’re a most impressive man,” the acting U.S. Ambassador deliberately praised his young guest in an attempt to butter him up. “Cornell graduate…B plus grade point average…Can speak English, German, and French…”
The acting American ambassador raised his head. His gaze was direct and it seemed to bore a hole right into William’s very soul.
“…You know, Wil, I think the last time I met a young man of your caliber; it was back in Boston,” Acting Ambassador Wilson recalled merrily. “The guy had just graduated from Harvard, another Ivy League school…”
[Duh!]
“…An Irishman named Kennedy. A real go-getter that kid was…probably why he became a bank president at age twenty-five, making him the youngest bank president in American History—”
“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” William broke in, his tone one of disinterest. Alt