Mr. President, this will never be done.

You need not be concerned.

The President hides his fury masterfully, and gazing over his

glasses, asks:

THE PRESIDENT

So I do not misunderstand you: there are

no offensive weapons in Cuba.

A beat. And Gromyko's response is flat, sure, steady:

GROMYKO

No, Mr. President. We have sent

defensive weapons only to Cuba.

Kenny's blazing eyes could drill holes in the back of

Gromyko's head. His gaze swings to the PRESIDENT'S DESK.

BENEATH THE DESK sit the BRIEFING BOARDS with the evidence.

INT. WEST WING HALLWAY - NIGHT

Kenny emerges from his office. The Soviet delegation

disappears down the hallway with Rusk. Kenny turns as Bobby,

haggard, comes up from the other direction.

Bobby gestures to the vanishing delegation, now being

HARANGUED OC by the press.

BOBBY

What happened?

The President comes out of the next door down the hall, the

Oval Office. He turns and sees Kenny and Bobby. He's livid.

THE PRESIDENT

Lying bastard. Lied to my face.

BOBBY

We're split down the middle. If I held

a vote I think airstrike would beat

blockade by a vote or two.

THE PRESIDENT

I want a consensus, Bobby. Consensus.

Either air strike or blockade.

Something everyone'll stand by even if

they don't like it. I need it by

Saturday. Make it happen.

BOBBY

What if I can't?

KENNY

We go into this split, the Russians will

know it. And they'll use it against us.

The prospect disturbs the three men.

THE PRESIDENT

Have you cancelled Chicago and the rest

of the weekend yet?

KENNY

You don't show for Chicago, everyone'll

know there's something going on.

THE PRESIDENT

I don't care. Cancel it.