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  • Back Channel
  • Written by Stephen L. Carter
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  • Back Channel
  • Written by Stephen L. Carter
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A novel

Written by Stephen L. CarterAuthor Alerts:  Random House will alert you to new works by Stephen L. Carter

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On Sale: July 29, 2014
Pages: 464 | ISBN: 978-0-385-34961-1
Published by : Knopf Knopf
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Synopsis|Excerpt

Synopsis

October 1962. The Soviet Union has smuggled missiles into Cuba. Kennedy and Khrushchev are in the midst of a military face-off that could lead to nuclear conflagration. Warships and submarines are on the move. Planes are in the air. Troops are at the ready. Both leaders are surrounded by advisers clamoring for war. The only way for the two leaders to negotiate safely is to open a “back channel”—a surreptitious path of communication hidden from their own people. They need a clandestine emissary nobody would ever suspect. If the secret gets out, her life will be at risk . . . but they’re careful not to tell her that.

Stephen L. Carter’s gripping new novel, Back Channel, is a brilliant amalgam of fact and fiction—a suspenseful retelling of the Cuban Missile Crisis, in which the fate of the world rests unexpectedly on the shoulders of a young college student.

On the island of Curaçao, a visiting Soviet chess champion whispers state secrets to an American acquaintance.

In the Atlantic Ocean, a freighter struggles through a squall while trying to avoid surveillance.

And in Ithaca, New York, Margo Jensen, one of the few black women at Cornell, is asked to go to Eastern Europe to babysit a madman.

As the clock ticks toward World War III, Margo undertakes her harrowing journey. Pursued by the hawks on both sides, protected by nothing but her own ingenuity and courage, Margo is drawn ever more deeply into the crossfire—and into her own family’s hidden past.

Excerpt

PROLOGUE
The Sacrifice
 
The President was in one of his moods. He stood at the bedroom window, tugging the lace curtain aside with a finger, peering down onto East Capitol Street. Outside, Washington was dark. He picked up his bourbon, took a long pull, and rubbed at his lower back. Margo sensed that he would rather be pacing, except that he was in too much pain just now; he never complained, but she had spent enough time around him these last few days to tell. All the same, she marveled at the man’s aplomb, given that he was quite possibly presiding over the end of the world.
 
“Long day, Miss Jensen,” he said finally.
 
“Yes, Mr. President.”
 
“I’ve got people telling me I have to invade.” His suit jacket was slung over the back of a chair. His tie was loose. The thick brown hair was mussy, and before he departed would be a good deal mussier. Margo wondered who owned this townhouse. The bedroom was plush to the point of decadence. Her grandmother, her beloved Nana, would have been appalled at the thought that Margo was in such a place with a man, even if he was the President of the United States.
 
“Invade Cuba,” Kennedy clarified. He reached for his glass but didn’t drink. “My people keep telling me it’s my only choice. They seem to forget we tried already, just last year. And I don’t mean Keating and all those armchair generals on the Hill. I mean my own people. I’ve moved the troops to Georgia and Florida, just in case we decide to go in.” He let the curtain fall, turned half toward her, in profile tired but still dashingly young: the first President born in the twentieth century, as his supporters endlessly trumpeted.
 
Margo sat on the chaise longue, knees primly together in the evening dress. She had told her roommates that she was going to a party in Silver Spring, careful to sound nervous enough that they would guess she was lying. It was important that they suspect she was off on some other journey than the one she disclosed: important to the fiction that she was required to maintain.
 
As was tonight’s meeting: what historians in later years would suppose, wrongly, to have been an assignation.
 
The fiction. The vital fiction.
 
Margo Jensen was nineteen years old, as bright as morning, quick and curious and perhaps a bit fussy, more handsome than pretty, displaying a fleshiness that belonged to a more mature woman. From an oval face a shade or two shy of mahogany, curious eyes strove to find order in a world rushing toward chaos.
 
Kennedy moved to the gigantic bed, gave a small laugh; sat. “I say to them, ‘If we invade Cuba, take out those missiles, what does Khrushchev do?’ They can’t make up their minds.” Kennedy groaned. It occurred to her that in the midst of a crisis that could lead to nuclear war, the President had advisers galore, but nobody to whom he could simply vent without back talk; and so, given that the plan required him to see Margo daily in any case, he had chosen her as his foil.
 
It wasn’t as though she could tell anybody.
 
“LeMay says the Sovs are so scared of us, they won’t do a thing,” Kennedy continued. He was massaging the small of his back again, grimacing. Maybe he was hoping she would volunteer to help. “McNamara tells me they’ll have to respond, just to save face, but their response will be limited, probably in Berlin. Two or three others think they’ll press the button.”
 
Margo shut her eyes. She still could not quite grasp that any of this was happening. It was October 1962, and a month ago she had been nobody, a sophomore government major at Cornell University, chasing no larger goals than finishing college, going on to graduate school, and getting married. Now she was skulking around Washington, D.C., worried about being caught by someone who knew her—or, worse, by the people who would very much like her dead.
 
At odd moments, she asked God why she had been chosen for this role. She was no soldier and no spy; two years ago, she had been in high school. She was not equal to the tasks demanded of her. They should have picked someone else. She wanted more than anything not to be here. Her boyfriend, Tom, a physics major, liked to say that the universe was unpredictable but never absurd. Just now, however, “absurd” was the only word to describe the bizarre concatenation of circumstances that had led her to tonight’s secret meeting in this grand-luxe bedroom. But there was no escape. She was the only candidate: that was what they kept telling her. It was Margo or nobody.
 
“Those are my choices,” the President was saying. “Either live with nuclear missiles ninety miles off our shore—missiles that are capable of reaching two-thirds of the country—or risk thermonuclear war. Come over here.”
 
She tensed. “No, thank you.”
 
“It’s okay. Sit with me a minute.”
 
“I’m comfortable where I am, Mr. President.”
 
Kennedy seemed to understand. “We would spare you all of this if we could, Miss Jensen, believe me. We’re not the ones who chose you.” He drank. Drank again. “You do realize, don’t you, that there’s a good chance I’m going to be the last President of the United States?”
 
Margo swallowed. “I’m sure that’s not true, sir.”
 
Actually, she was lying. She believed exactly that. The likelihood that this was the end plagued her dreams.
 
Kennedy pinched the bridge of his nose. His exhaustion was palpable, a live creature in the room, and yet he tamed it and kept moving forward. “Some of my advisers have already sent their families out of the city. They want to know what provisions I’m making for Jackie and the kids. I tell them not to worry. There isn’t going to be a war. By keeping my family in Washington, I show them I mean what I say. Maybe that’s terrible of me. I don’t know.” He shook off the contemplative mood, stood up straight. “It’s time, Miss Jensen.”
 
Margo’s eyes snapped open. Now came the part of the evening she hated most. “Yes, sir,” she said, rising.
 
He was on his feet, turning back the comforter on the bed. She went around to the other side and helped. They tossed the extra pil- lows into the corner. Kennedy went to the bucket and poured her a glass of champagne. Margo drank it right off, knowing she would get tipsy, which was the point: otherwise, her courage would fail.
 
Besides, it was important that the Secret Service agent who would drive her home later smell the alcohol on her breath: again, the fiction.
 
The President poured her another glass. The room swam. She sat on the bed, trembling. She kicked off her shoes, let one of the shoulder straps slide down her upper arm. Kennedy undid his tie, dropped it on the floor, and walked toward her, smiling that crooked smile.
 
“Now,” he said, “let’s get some of that beautiful lipstick on my collar.”
 
More fiction. He took her hand, lifted her to her feet. Margo stepped
into his arms and, once more, shut her eyes. You’re helping to save the country, a voice in her head reminded her. And the world. But as she turned her face upward toward his, Margo found herself wondering again what Nana would think, and all at once none of it mattered—not Kennedy, not Khrushchev, not her role in trying to stop the nuclear war that was about to start—none of it mattered, and none of it would have happened, if only she could turn back the clock to the day they came up from Washington to tell Margo that it was her patriotic duty to go to Bulgaria to babysit a madman.
 
She should have said no.
Stephen L. Carter|Author Q&A

About Stephen L. Carter

Stephen L. Carter - Back Channel

Photo © Michael Lionstar

Stephen L. Carter is the William Nelson Cromwell Professor of Law at Yale University, where he has taught since 1982. He is also the author of seven books of nonfiction.

Author Q&A

A conversation with STEPHEN L. CARTER, author of BACK CHANNEL

Q: What drew you to the Cuban Missile Crises as the back drop for a thriller?

A: The Cuban Missile Crisis is the one moment in our history when the nation stood on the brink of
annihilation – yet people seem to know remarkably little about the details!  The fiction that’s been
written on the Crisis has generally focused on nuclear war.  A lot of it is even in the post-apocalyptic mode.  I was interested in a thriller that involved the efforts to avoid the war–efforts that in the real world paid off.

Q: How did you decide to place Margo Jensen, a college student at Cornell, in the midst of this drama?

A: I think it was Robert Ludlum who said that every thriller begins with a human interest story.  Robert Dallek, in his biography of John F. Kennedy, disclosed the thirty-fifth President’s affair with a 19-year-old White House intern.  I twisted the facts into a fictional premise:  Suppose that it wasn’t an affair?  Suppose it was a cover for secret negotiations to resolve the crisis?
 
Working from that premise, I created my heroine, Margo Jensen.  Of course I made changes.  Margo is black, where the real intern was white.  And I supplied a back story (some of it shrouded in mystery) to explain how an ambitious college sophomore in 1962 could find herself suddenly at the center of world-shattering political events.

Q: Was there really a “back channel”?

A:  There was indeed!  The real back channel didn’t involve a college student, of course.  It ran from Robert Kennedy to John Scali of ABC News.  The Soviet end of the back channel was the very KGB
officer I use in my story, and some of the meetings actually took place at the restaurant that features in my tale.

Q: You were a child as these events unfolded.  What do you remember about this time?

A: The Cuban Missile Crisis reached its climax on my eighth birthday.  (Yes, I really am that old!)  All I really remember is a sort of palpable sense of fear, even panic, in my house and in the neighborhood.  None of the details stick in my mind.

What I do remember is, later on, talking with friends at school about fallout shelters and what it would be like if a nuclear weapon (we all said ‘atomic bomb’) fell on Washington.  We used to discuss what it might be like if we were forced to live under the ground.  I am embarrassed to report that it all seemed terribly exciting to us.

Q: In your novel Palace Council, Richard Nixon was a prominent character.  In The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln, you wrote of course about Lincoln.  In Back Channel, you bring Kennedy to life.  Who posed the biggest challenge?  Will we see more Presidents in your fiction?

A: Lincoln was undoubtedly the most difficult, because he has been so heavily written about.  But
Kennedy was a considerable challenge, too, especially because of the need to portray what we might think of as his intimate life.  Also, unlike Nixon, Lincoln and Kennedy are both men I admire.  My late father worked in the Kennedy Administration, and his heartfelt and lifelong esteem for the man has rubbed off on me. I have tried to portray Kennedy in a mostly positive light, although, of course, not without the blemishes.

As to future presidential fiction: I’m currently working on a thriller involving the assassination in the 1970s of a popular Senator who is expected to be elected President.  My imaginary candidate is a bit of a composite, but readers who know the era may well guess some of the sources.  And, by the way, two actual Presidents will appear in the story.

Q: There are a lot of real historical events and people in this novel.  Can you talk about your source material and any research that inform the novel? And as novelist, how do you go about blending the factual and fictional?

A: There aren’t any secrets to writing good historical fiction.  You just do loads and loads of research and do your best to get the facts right, other than the facts you change for the sake of the story. In Back Channel, part of the challenge was reconstructing both Ithaca, New York, and Washington, D.C., to portray them as they would have been in 1962.  In addition, I had to bring to life members of the White House staff – especially McGeorge Bundy, the national security adviser, who in my telling features prominently.  The meetings of the ExComm, the special advisory committee Kennedy appointed
during the Cuban Missile Crisis, were mostly recorded, and audio tapes and transcripts are easily
available.  I switched around some of the meetings and smoothed out the content in order to fit the needs of the story.

Q: When we first meet Margo she is attending a lecture on Conflict Theory. What is Conflict Theory and how does it set the tone for the events about to unfold in the novel?

A: Conflict theory is a branch of game theory, and bears particularly on how conflict is resolved.  Some of the most important early work in conflict theory was actually done by Daniel Ellsberg, later of
Pentagon Papers fame.  In chapter 1 of my story, Professor Lorenz Niemeyer is giving his students a
hypothetical about a bank robber and a hand grenade.  The example is actually borrowed from a
famous paper by Ellsberg.

Q: Chess has featured in your novels before, most prominently in The Emperor of Ocean Park, and is back here in a big way.  In fact, Bobby Fischer is actually a character in the novel.  Why chess and why Bobby?

A: I weave chess into a lot of my novels in large part because, although only of amateur strength as a player, I love the game and its lore.  My decision to include Bobby Fischer has an interesting
genesis.  One of his most famous games was played in 1962 against the then-world champion, the
Soviet star Mikhail Botvinnik.  They met at the chess Olympiad (as the name implies, a team
tournament) in Varna, Bulgaria.  The Olympiad that year took place just before the Cuban Missile
Crisis began to heat up.  Add to that the fact that the real Bobby, like my fictitious Margo, turned 19 that year.  So it was an irresistible temptation to move events around just a bit to make the Olympiad, and Bobby himself, crucial to uncovering what was happening in Cuba.

Q: Most of your novels interweave characters from your other novels.  Which characters from past fiction can the readers expect to meet on the pages of Back Channel?

A: In The Emperor of Ocean Park, Misha’s ambitious wife is a lawyer named Kimberly Madison.  We meet her here as a toddler.  We also encounter younger versions of her parents and her sister.  Emperor also involved an arms dealer named Jack Ziegler.  His younger self plays a nefarious role in Back Channel.  My novel Jericho’s Fall involves a disgraced ex-CIA director named Jericho Ainsley.  Here we meet him as a young CIA employee.  A couple of minor characters from Palace Council are also minor characters here.

Q: You write about this moment in history as a time when intelligence was really shifting away from human sources to technology.  How did the events of this time come to shape the future of
intelligence and are we still seeing its legacy today?

A:  We discuss this in my courses at Yale on the ethics of war!  The declining reliance on HUMINT
(intelligence from human sources) and increasing reliance on SIGINT (intelligence from electronic sources) is a trend of many decades.  Some authorities now like to refer to CYBINT (intelligence from cyber sources) as a separate field.  The technological wizardry of the current era is quite remarkable, and no doubt has led to many intelligence coups.  But of course those same technological tools make it easier for governments to spy on their own people.  And the decline of HUMINT probably hurts us in predicting the moves of terror groups.


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