“Stargazer wasn’t designed for reentry, but we may have to think about alternatives to starving in orbit,” Bill Cranston said. “Because of the total communication blackout, we’ve got to make our own plans.”
“Reentry isn’t just risky, it’s suicidal. Stargazer simply isn’t designed for reentry. Here’s what I think happened, Bill. Tell me if you agree. We have no idea how we lost communication, but it’s a reality we’ve got to deal with, as well as the possibility that Rosetta can’t fix the problem. If they could have, they would have. We can assume that something happened to the launch of the supply vehicle. They’ve launched dozens of those rockets, but logic tells us that something went wrong with the latest attempt. So, if I were Rosetta, I would launch another supply pod. There’s no other choice. Either feed us or starve us. But it takes at least two weeks to outfit a supply pod and ready the launch vehicle. Since I’ve calculated that we’ll run out of necessary food in about two weeks, I think it’s fair to say we have a problem. Even if we go on a forced diet and consume fewer calories than required, we still could face starvation in a month. I hate to sound so negative, honey, but that’s the way I see it.”
“Besides being beautiful, Nance, you’re brilliant. I agree with everything you’ve said. We need to keep our exercise to a minimum to help conserve calories.”
“Does that mean we can’t play Scrabble?”
“I’m afraid so, Nance. Just imagine our first game after we replenish our food.”
“Stop thinking about it, handsome. You’re consuming unnecessary calories. Let me hold your hand while we meditate. We have nothing else to do.”
Although Cranston and Mullin didn’t know it, the government had narrowed down the list of suspects. The question remained—was there enough time?
Chapter 47
“It’s the First Lady on line one for you, Mr. President.”
“Hey, Dee, Are you on the way home?”
“I’m just boarding Marine One, Matt. I should be at the White House in a half hour. I miss you.”
“And I miss you too, even though it’s been only a week. Got something big to talk to me about?”
“Yeah, real big. Entirely too big.”
At 4 p.m. the presidential helicopter, Marine One, landed on the South Lawn of the White House. Dee Blake walked across the lawn to the entrance to the White House escorted by three Marine guards and her two aides. She had just come from a secret meeting in Valhalla, New York. Although the title First Lady doesn’t come with a list of specific duties, it’s well known that Dee Blake is her husband’s top aide and counsellor. When something top secret and sensitive needs to be done, it usually involves Dee.
Dee and Matt Blake met under unusual circumstances. Dee was a client of Chicago’s top trial lawyer, Matt Blake. The case involved the wrongful death of her husband, investigative journalist Jim Spellman. What looked like an open-and-shut negligence case turned out to be a famous criminal matter, known around the world as the Sideswipe Conspiracy. The sideswipe collision that killed Dee’s husband was proven to be murder, not a negligent act. Dee and Matt knew about Spellman’s writings, and they became murder targets of the terrorist cell that was responsible for Jim Spellman’s death. Because the threats against them turned out to be real, Dee and Matt became part of the FBI Witness Protection Program. While in a secret location in the program, Dee and Matt fell in love and married. As Dee would put it, you can’t make up this shit.
The Blakes turned out to be America’s favorite couple. It was no secret that both had gone through life-threatening bouts of alcoholism and drug addiction. It was no secret because Dee and Matt chose to be open about their struggles and spent a lot of their time helping others to slay their demons. In addition to her love for Matt, Dee also looked up to him as a leader. Dee would often tell people that. “I fell in love with a great guy and soon discovered that he was also a great man.” Dee convinced Matt to run for President of the United States. He agreed, and toward the end of his campaign it looked like he would win easily. But his opponent, a sinister billionaire named Bartholomew Martin, organized a campaign of lies about Matt Blake. Martin won the election, based on fears he created about Matt Blake being soft on terrorism.
The Bartholomew Martin presidency turned out to be a threat to the foundations of American democracy. Every day a few liberties would disappear. Every day a new report would emerge of government spying on citizens. Accounts were frozen, assets seized, arrests were made, all without the familiar American institution of due process of law. “A knock on the door” became a fearful part of American reality. Martin’s power grab was aided by his party’s veto-proof majority in both houses of congress. After a few months, thoughtful people began to realize that America had elected its first dictator, Bartholomew Martin.
Never one to turn her back on a fight, Dee convinced Matt to try again for the White House. Along with a few close friends and confidants, Dee convinced Matt that he was the country’s last hope for restoring democracy. She loved to quote her hero, Ronald Reagan: “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction.”
Matt agreed to run again, and this time, with the country trembling in fear of its first dictator, he defeated Bartholomew Martin in a popular and electoral landslide.
“How about a kiss?” Matt said, as he wrapped his arms around Dee.
“Of course, big guy, but then I want to amaze you with what I’ve found out.”
“Go ahead, amaze me?”
“You’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”
They sat across from each other on the wing-back chairs with a coffee table in between. When talking to Dee, Matt never sat behind the executive desk.
“Two words, Matt—Bartholomew Martin. Rick Bellamy and I agreed that I would bring the news to you. It’s so sensitive that Rick didn’t want to talk over the phone.”
Matt put his coffee cup on the table.
“From the look on your face, you don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not. Go ahead, hon.”
“You couldn’t have picked a better Homeland Security Secretary. Rick Bellamy uncovers things that others would step over. His people, with appropriate subpoenas of course, tapped the phones and placed listening devices on Bartholomew Martin and his band of thugs who call themselves The Reformers, a name that you and I know well. They’re currently located on a huge compound in Erbil, Kurdistan.”
“Kurdistan, as you know, Dee, is really part of Iraq. The Kurds hate Bartholomew Martin and his people. They feed the CIA great information about the Reformers. You’re right, Dee. Bellamy is the best. I didn’t even have to tip him off to focus on Martin. He remembers the election where I beat Martin in a landslide. Bellamy remembered that Martin refused to concede and didn’t even call to congratulate me after the results were clear. He also recalled the details about my kidnapping and the hijacking of our submarine. Remember the newspaper headline? ‘The President is Missing.’ I’ll never forget the note I got from Bartholomew Martin when I returned to the White House. You remember it, Dee.