"Don't you trust me?"
I took a second to answer that. "Marilyn, I would trust you with my life. However, I am now responsible for the lives of 300 million other people, and I can't put that trust on anybody else. Let me ask you something. Could you order somebody killed?"
She recoiled at that. "Oh my God, NO! How can you ask that!?"
"Because I have to be able to do that. In a matter of days or weeks I am going to send our country into war. Hundreds, no, thousands of people will die as a result of that.", I told her.
"Oh my God! Charlie?"
I shook my head. "No, he should be okay, him and Jack. Still the time might come when I have to order him into battle. You could never do that."
Marilyn shook her head. "No, of course not. I hate that you have to do this. Why do you have to kill all those people? Why can't they just leave us alone?"
I smiled sadly. Marilyn was a good person, but she saw the world as she wanted it to be, and I saw the world as it was. "Two sides of the same question, hun. I have to start this war and kill them so I can try and convince them to leave us alone. If I could figure a way to do it differently, I would be happy to." I snorted and laughed derisively. "Hell, I used to kill retail, and now I get to do it wholesale! Hell of a world, ain't it?!"
"And tonight?"
"Tonight I have to talk to people in faraway places. That's all you can know."
We just sat there on the couch looking out at the world while the sun sank and night came. Eventually Marilyn went to bed, and I made my way down to the Oval Office. I worked on some budget numbers that the Office of Management and Budget had put together for me until it was time to make a phone call. I made the request for the night operator to put the call through. Sitting across the desk from me was one of the two CIA representatives from the afternoon. After a few minutes the phone rang and the voice said, "We have the Prime Minister of Israel, sir."
"Hello?", came an accented voice.
"Prime Minister Sharon, thank you for taking my call. I hope this isn't too early for you."", I said.
"No, Mister President, of course not. This is quite late in Washington. If you had called earlier I would have been happy to take the call.", he replied. The signal quality was crystal clear.
"No need for both of us to lose sleep. I was hoping that you might be able to do me a favor."
"If it's within my power, of course."
"Mister Prime Minister, it occurred to me that you might have some intelligence on certain terrorist groups that we might not have. I assume you have heard of Al Qaeda.", I asked.
'Yes, we know of this group. What kind of intelligence would you be looking for?"
"Nothing much, really. Just names and addresses, I suppose. I plan to mail them some packages."
Ariel Sharon gave me a barking laugh at that. "If we had those addresses, there would be no need for you to send them any packages, Mister President."
"Perhaps not, Prime Minister. I will concede that point. Regardless, it still occurs to me that you might have more information than we have. The reason I ask is that you probably have people capable of passing along intelligence in the other direction, so to speak. Without getting into details, we think it might be helpful if any individuals in Al Qaeda who happened to be outside of Afghanistan currently were to head back home. Maybe if they thought that we knew where they were currently, but not where they might go in Afghanistan. Do you follow my drift?"
Sharon responded slowly. "You would like these individuals to head back to Afghanistan I gather. When do you foresee a need to get them home?"
No way was I going to tell, but I had to make a reply. "Well, not today, but soon, very soon. A matter of days, maybe a week or two. Certainly no longer than that."
"And then?"
"Well, I don't want to seem to be making unwanted suggestions, Mister Prime Minister, but if I had friends or employees in Afghanistan, I might want them to be out of the country by then."
"Really?"
"Yes. I don't really think there will be a place called Afghanistan in a few weeks. It sounds kind of unhealthy to me.", I told him.
"That's very interesting, Mister President. Perhaps I can call on some people I know after breakfast and see what we can do to help."
"Thank you, Prime Minister."
"The name is Ariel, sir.", he commented.
"My friends call me Carl. My close friends call me much worse.", I answered with a laugh.
"Perhaps I can become one of those close friends. I know I invited you to Israel when I saw you last week. Let me again invite you to visit. I think we would have much to discuss.", he said.
"I think you are right. Let me get a few things taken care of here, and I will be sure to visit. Perhaps sometime in November?"
"That would be very nice. Would it be imprudent to ask if your delay will be due to the need to rebuild your Cabinet?", he commented.
"You know how difficult it can be to get good help. Let me let you get back to work. I appreciate you taking the call. Thank you."
"Goodbye, Carl. Shalom."
"Shalom, Ariel." I hung up the phone. I looked over at the fellow from the CIA. "Well, let's see how that goes. Dial up whatever assets you have anywhere over there. If we get lucky, some of the bad guys are going to get word that they are going to be attacked somewhere other than Afghanistan. Maybe they decide to go home for a little vacation. Get addresses to the Pentagon. A stern word goes a long way in diplomacy, but a stern word and a thousand pound bomb goes even farther."
"Yes, sir, I'll get on that." He stood and left, and I headed up to bed.
Chapter 143: War
Monday, October 1, 2001
My most important Cabinet post left was Defense, what with Powell moving over to State. I thought about this some over the weekend, but didn't really do anything. Most of the time I simply played with the dog, and let the twins drag me and Marilyn all over the place showing me what they were finding. A lot of stuff is actually down in the basement. Also, there are several elevators and hidden stairwells and hallways. As amusing as it might be, you really don't need the First Lady wandering through the Main Reception Hall on the ground floor looking for the swimming pool while a tour group comes through. Marilyn was pretty cute, but some of the First Ladies in swimsuits could be downright scary!
Saturday afternoon Marilyn and I spent some time getting to know each other again. After breakfast I had done some paperwork down in the Oval Office and had then returned to the Residence. In our bedroom I found Marilyn lounging on the bed wearing a short silk robe. "Is this some sort of secret White House ritual I missed during Orientation?", I asked.
My wife smiled at me. "If you don't like the idea..."
I waved my arms at her. "Now, don't be hasty. I didn't say anything like that. I'm just a little surprised, is all." I began to unbutton my shirt.
Marilyn smiled. "I have to tell you, I had a visit from a very discreet Secret Service Agent, a woman, and we had a little discussion. Were you aware that we get every station broadcast anywhere in the world here. Or something like that. Stations like the Playboy channel? And a few others?" Marilyn blushed at that. "She showed me how to dial them up."
I had the same conversation with somebody equally discreet but male. Not only did we have all sorts of stations, but if I wanted any sort of 'marital aids' or lingerie, I could place various orders using some fake addresses and account names. By the time he was done I was damn near rolling on the floor laughing. We had both had the same conversations when we had moved into the Naval Observatory, but somehow, in the White House, it seemed even sillier.