Chapter Nine
“And by what method do you justify this to your American taxpayers?” Genny waved a hand to indicate herself seated aboard Air Force One, in the corner of the President’s in-flight office. There had been only a few high-level meetings where she had retired to one of the equally comfortable seats in the corridor to afford him privacy. For the most part they both had sat quietly and worked. Now they were ten hours into the seventeen-hour flight and sharing a meal.
She was surprised to learn that dining on the President’s airplane was nothing special. They served airplane fare, high quality and tasty, but she’d eaten far fancier menus when flying first class on Air France or SAS. Corned Beef on Rye along with potato salad, a fruit bowl, and a bag of chips. She drank a very nice
