Jed turns to C.J. and asks what she's got. She says that Reuters claims the Ayatollah's youngest son just left Afghanistan on a C-130: "Is he coming here for a transplant?" Jed: "Heart and lung." C.J. says she's assuming they knew about it. Jed: "Knew about it? We did it." C.J says the Ayatollah's issued a statement bitterly denouncing it. He exhales heavily as she reads, "'Our nation can take care of its own. Interference from the West is an affront to Islam.'" Jed raises a heavy book and smashes it down on the desk. It bounces a bit, and he walks out onto the portico for a few moments to collect himself. "Interference from the West"? What, is he claiming his son was kidnapped? Religious extremists may be crazy, but they're probably not that stupid.
Jed comes back and asks what the room is saying. C.J. says they think the administration is hiding Leo's meeting with the Swiss. Jed says he can't do the press coffee thing now. Leo comes in from his office and asks C.J. to step out for a moment. As she leaves, Jed says, "We're not gonna not do it, I'm saying right now." C.J. leaves. Jed sighs. He says to Leo: "Hi. Before you say anything, here's my idea: the kid needs lungs and a heart. Let's use the Ayatollah's." He asks Leo what he's smiling at. Leo says, "I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry...it's the little note Margaret passed on." He hands it to Jed, who reads, "'The Iranians, they've taken to the streets.' Perfect. That goes to the Margaret Museum." Leo takes the note back, puts in his pocket, and says, "Please don't forget: all politics are local." Jed: "Ah, bite me." Leo: "He's gotta say something." Jed: "Please!" Leo says the Ayatollah has to say something to his hardliners. Jed: "He didn't want to try, 'My son is dying and these guys maybe can fix him? And maybe if our citizens didn't spend quite so much energy denouncing the infidels, they'd have time to build a damn medical school!'" Like the Japanese? The Germans? The French, the Canadians, the British, and the citizens of all the other wealthy industrialized countries, none of which has successfully performed or attempted to perform this operation, all of whom have good medical schools? It's great to see the leaps and bounds cultural understanding has made in the last year, I tell you. Leo just bears this with his usual patience and says that the Swiss talked to the NGO, who talked to the brother-in-law who speaks for the Ayatollah. Jed: "Okay, but just tell me they weren't using cellular technology, 'cause I don't care what anybody says, it doesn't work yet." That's for damn sure. Leo suggests linking it to the missile tests: "Send a communiqué through the Swiss: The Ayatollah's gotta honour Bahrain. Stop all tests of the Shehab-3." Jed says he'll say no. Leo says that's when they threaten to turn the plane around. Yeah, that's nice. Use the dying kid as a pawn. Jed: "No." Leo says, "I said you threaten..." Jed's firm: "No. No! Come on! That's a fifteen-year-old non-combatant on his way to a hospital. I want you to pretend that plane's got a big red cross on it." ["If it's a Swissair plane, maybe it does." -- Wing Chun] Leo: "They perfect medium-range missiles. What's that do for hearts and lungs?" Jed knows that: "Send the communiqué, absolutely, there's a Bahrain Agreement that says...send it, tell them to stop, don't even come close...I don't even want a scent of linkage to it. A big damn red cross right on that plane." He outlines the Red Cross symbol with his index fingers. Leo leaves without a word. Jed leans heavily on his hands on his desk and sighs.