Free path to conquest by Unknown Author Page B

apartment getting ready. He scribbled a note to Sari and More, who hadn’t yet stirred, and threw open the kitchen cupboards to reveal the makings of any breakfast they might want later.
    Then Pete and Hannah rushed downstairs to meet the four-wheel-drive wagon Katowski sent to pick them up. With better than a foot of unplowed powder on Manhattan’s streets, a four-by-four was the only vehicle that could get through.
    The Secret Service driver parked the vehicle in the hotel’s garage and escorted his passengers up to the top floor. They were the first to arrive at the beige suite, and the President’s wife greeted them and took them to the dining room. The oval table was set for breakfast, with bagels, pastries, juice, and hot beverages.
    “Just help yourself,” said Mrs. Morrow. “Bill should be in any minute, and the others are on their way up.” She was dressed in a gorgeously patterned silk kimono, and Hannah touched the sleeve.
    “It’s lovely, Mrs. Morrow.”
    “I wish I could wear it all the time. I picked it up when we were on a state visit to Japan.”
    “She would’ve bought up the country’s entire kimono supply if I hadn’t stopped her,” boomed the President as he entered the room.
    “He kept pulling the most wonderful things out of my hands, screaming about the balance-of-trade deficit,” Barbara Morrow lamented. “If I were President, I’d let you buy souvenirs.”
    Morrow grinned at the teasing. “Next election I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to Pete and Hannah. “Good morning, Doctors. Thanks for rollin’ outa bed and into all that snow. Didn’t get much of the white stuff where I grew up in Texas. Though when we did, the whole damn state’d close down,” he chuckled.
    They heard the suite door open and the rest of those called to the conference filed in. Lauren Stewart, representing the United Nations, was obviously the only one who’d come from outside, with her nose sniffling and her scarf still draped around her neck. She and Pete exchanged meaningful smiles. Behind her, Secretary of State Nick Draper, Secretary of Defense Stuart Hart, and Len Katowski trooped in. Everyone sat around the table and reached for food right away. President Morrow prowled the room in plaid bathrobe and Indian moccasins, a bagel clutched in one hand “I don’t know about you all,” he said without preface, “but there’s no doubt in my mind the Visitors arc responsible for this. Diana as much as said so when 1 called her last week.
    Now, I don’: know how she did this, but I do know we’re in a shitioad of trouble if we don’t do something to stop it, and come up with immediate ways to make sure we’ve got ample supplies of fuel. The floor’s open for anybody’s two cents.” Secretary of Defense Hart pursed his lips. “It appears we have very little choice. We’re going to need those Strategic Oil Reserves.”
    Lauren sipped a glass of orange juice. “I’m just afraid we might be too late. If I recall, Gerry Livingston said—” “Where the hell is Livingston?” said Morrow, exasperation in his voice.
    “Probably picking out just the right suit,” Katowski mumbled. “Wouldn’t want to be caught underdressed.”
    Hart and Draper couldn’t help snickering. There was a rustling in the hallway and Livingston strode in, wearing, of course, just the right suit and murmuring apologies for tardiness. Morrow glared at him, then looked back to Lauren.
    She took the cue and continued, “Anyway, Gerry said the Visitors hadn’t been devoting much energy to actively trying to cut our supply pipelines and rail transport. Well, it looks to me like Diana is suddenly inordinately interested in everything that has to do with oil supplies. If we do anything to reveal the existence of those underground reserves down in Texas and Louisiana, we may be playing right into her hands.” Morrow nodded. “So what you’re saying is, we could be drawing attention to supplies the lizards didn’t