CHAPTER 13UPSTAIRS, as they gathered in the office to play back the tapes, a red light glowed on the President’s desk console. He flicked on a switch and Mr. Powers’ voice came clearly into the room, “. . . directing you to call the President of the United States and tell him to check the basement.”
“One moment, Mr. Powers, the premieress would like a word with you.”
“Dear me, Mr. Powers.” The voice was lilting and friendly, without an accent. “Did they forget and lock you in the War Room?”
“That’s classified information. Who are you?”
“Ailya Ailyanovna, premieress of all the Russias. You knew me as Ailya Halapoff when you detailed John Pope to woo me.”
“Oh, yes. I recall. Pope always spoke highly of you.”
Hansen caught the significance of her remarks. The premieress was speaking to
