At nearly nine o’clock at night, the vice president receives a call from the administration’s chief of staff.
“Pat, we have a problem,” Maria Sterling says tersely. “Are you free to talk?”
“Yes, my wife and the kids are upstairs. What kind of problem, Maria?”
“The kind of problem that we could lose our jobs over, maybe even go to jail.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Hell, no,” she responds angrily. “Why do you think I’m calling you right now.”
“What happened?”
“Scott Brubaker just called me at home. He says he had dinner with a congressional investigator – who wanted to verify that we are going to war.”
“Jesus H. Christ!”
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