Kushner was more cautious. “Well, we don’t have to rush this,” he told them, according to someone familiar with the conversation. “Let’s take our time with this.” Lewandowski interrupted to say that, in fact, they did have to rush this. The Obama White House had already asked for the name of the transition-team leader, and it was likely to come up in a matter of days when the two groups were due to sit down together. They needed to decide then and there, Lewandowski said. Trump agreed.

Unlike Charlie Kushner, who is known to have a ferocious temper, Jared, according to a person close to the family, often fumed quietly: the angrier he grew, oftentimes, the quieter he became. So when he opened his mouth that day, he was at little more than a whisper. It was rare for him to talk about his father’s stint in prison, but Kushner delivered an impassioned soliloquy. “It’s unfair,” Jared said at one point, succinctly, according to someone with direct knowledge of the conversation. “[Christie] took advantage of my family members for his own ambition.” (Kushner declined to comment.)

“They’re like mini-super-bots, mini-Voltrons,” Michael Cohen said. “Collectively, they make the whole.”

As he sat there listening, Christie was incredulous, but Trump jumped to his defense. “The guy was just doing his job,” Trump said, chastising his son-in-law, according to this person. “If you were there, you would have done the same thing. You really should be mad at your own family here. They are the ones who turned over all that information to Chris.” According to this person, Trump went on to say that Kushner’s real problem was that he hadn’t known Trump at the time of his father’s trial: if he had, things might have turned out differently, given the friendship between Trump and Christie. Christie interrupted, according to this person, suggesting that was not the case. Trump protested, suggesting that it would have been different. (The White House declined to comment. Christie declined to comment.)

Trump then suggested that he, Christie, and Jared and Charlie Kushner go out to dinner together to clear the air. Jared replied that that might not be the best idea. At this point, Lewandowski looked aghast.

Trump turned to Kushner and told him his final decision: he was picking Christie. Kushner subsequently left the room.

Tensions lingered, of course. According to a person with knowledge of the situation, Trump and Kushner called Charlie Kushner to break the news, asking for his blessing and making sure that the Christie decision would not irreparably damage the in-laws’ relationship. During the call, according to this person, Charlie Kushner listened patiently before explaining, Listen, the most important thing is that you win. The elder Kushner seemed genuinely magnanimous.

Privately, however, the father-son follow-up conversation was different in its tone. A person close to the family recalled that Charlie Kushner told his son that Christie would accept the post, but eventually it would work out. Six months later, Christie was fired. (A spokeswoman for Charlie Kushner did not respond to requests for comment. A spokesman for Jared Kushner declined to comment.)

IV. “Vank, This Isn’t the Speech for That”

In late 2015, the Secret Service began providing a detail for Donald Trump (code name: “Mogul”), but it wasn’t until the fall of 2016 that security was provided for Ivanka. Settling on nicknames is somewhat of a process—one that allows protectees an opportunity to exercise their own vanity. Since the call signs within a First Family begin with the same first letter, the rest of the Trumps fell in line with M names. Melania landed on “Muse.” Ivanka went for “Marvel.” Eric, a spectacular shot, chose “Marksman.” Don Jr., for obvious reasons, picked “Mountaineer.”

From the beginning, Ivanka and Jared were honest with their detail about the possibility that they would move to Washington after the election. Don Jr.—Mountaineer—was less comfortable with the idea of protection. For starters, he was generally more private than his sister. He went to his second home in the Catskills to fish and build bonfires and roam around on A.T.V.’s with his kids most weekends, and took off for days-long hunting trips in the most remote parts of the Canadian bush, looking for moose, and 10-day fishing trips in Alaska. He enjoyed the anonymity provided to him in this world, which was now ending. It didn’t help, either, that he and his wife, Vanessa, had five kids living in New York City, which meant that she had to manage essentially six different details—one for her and her husband, and one for each of her children. Her phone frequently lit up with texts and calls from agents, telling her one kid was a few minutes late to meet them on their designated street corner; asking if they would be on the north or south side of the street, or what time she planned to leave the house for their drive upstate for the weekend, or who was staying late at school that afternoon. “It is literally overwhelming,” a former Secret Service agent explained. “Trying to manage all that with seasoned staff would be mind-numbing. To have someone who’s never done it before try and juggle all of that? Well, it would just be horrific.” (Vanessa filed for divorce in March.)