“I am personally going to rip some new assholes on my next trip to Europe. In fact, I think I should schedule that trip as soon as possible.”
“I understand and I’d buy tickets to see that, but in the meantime, we have bigger issues.
“I think it’s a matter of days before we zero in on who was behind this attack, but my gut tells me that when we do, there’s going to be a very small window of opportunity to act, and that brings me to my request.”
“Which is?”
“Pretty much a blank check. Presidential authority to pull together a fast-response team, including SEALs, Special Ops, and our best people from the CIA and the DIA. Whatever it takes.
“We need to act very fast on whatever intelligence we manage to collect. The bastards who hit us are very nimble and well-funded. We need to fight them with a similar team that has access to the necessary resources without having to jump through hoops to get authorization to move.”
“That’s a big ask, Hart. You’re asking me to cut a lot of people out of what would normally take a meeting of the NSC, the Joint Chiefs, half the cabinet, and the Senate Intelligence Committee to decide.”
Prost took another drag and just stared at his president.
“On the other hand,” Macklin continued, “I don’t want to be like Clinton after 9/11, regretting that he didn’t act when he could have to cut the head off the snake months or even years before the attacks took place. I’ve got enough regrets already because we didn’t uncover the plan to attack Truman. We must locate and capture or kill the bastards responsible — and fast. Still, what you’re asking is…”
“Is in addition to, Mac. Not instead of. You’re already at the helm of the big ship, and it’s an awesome ship with lots of guns, but it’s still a big fucking ship. I’m asking that we add a patrol boat, fast, nimble, but very, very deadly.”
“And let you be at its helm?”
“With your guidance, of course.”
“One mistake and Congress will roast me, you know that.”
Prost nodded. “Well, we either be proactive or start hoping there is someone there at the next time to avert disaster.”
“Like Commander Weathers,” Macklin said.
“Yep. The man took a huge chance ignoring the rules to prevent a second disaster. Someone else might have waited for permission to fire and, well…”
“I get your point.”
“Mac, a good offense is the best defense, and by approving this team I’m requesting — a well-organized group to get in front of this thing — you’ll be ensuring that we’re not going to be counting on a Hail Mary play to save us the next time.”
Macklin slowly leaned back, hands behind his head, chewing on the cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth as he stared at the sky. If this went sideways, it would make Desert One, Iran-Contra, Whitewater, and even Benghazi — as well as every other military and political snafu in history — pale in comparison.
Before Macklin could respond, Okimoto emerged from the woods and approached them. “You’re needed in the lodge, sir. Showtime.”
Ten minutes before the president’s prime-time address to the nation, Prost followed Macklin into the Aspen Lodge, where the camera crew was ready to begin.
First Lady Maria Eden-Macklin walked up to them. She was a striking woman, as tall as Macklin, with a swan-like neck, penetrating brown eyes, and honey-colored skin that made her look ten years his junior, even though they were the same age. She wore a pair of black jeans, boots, and a cream-colored cotton turtleneck to ward off the evening chill.
“Thanks for bringing him back, Hart,” she said, crinkling her nose as she hugged the president. “And you need a mint, darling.”
“I need a lot of things, honey,” Macklin replied, before turning to Prost and saying, “All right, Hart. Get your team going. And pray it works.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said before retreating with impressive fluidity, blending with the swarm of TV studio people and aides.
“What team?” the first lady asked.
“Darling, trust me. You don’t want to know,” Macklin said as he took her hand and approached a small podium set on one side of the main room, in front of the large windows overlooking the pool and the woods.
The Aspen Lodge certainly had its appeal and quite the history, dating back to FDR and Truman, who would entertain friends and guests there. President Eisenhower had loved to spend his evenings there playing Scrabble with the first lady, while JFK and LBJ used it often as an informal place to meet with advisers during the turbulent sixties. Nixon had even entertained celebrities such as Bob Hope, and Jimmy Carter had hosted sessions between Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian president Anwar Sadat in 1978.
Reagan spent many hours alone working in the old brown recliner, which still stood in the room next to the producer working the teleprompter. George H. W. Bush had hosted the Gorbachevs in 1990. President Clinton had met on the pool terrace with Yasser Arafat in 2000, and George W. Bush discussed world policy with Putin on the green sofas next to the podium.
Hell, Macklin thought, Obama even had a water gun fight with Sasha by the pool before meeting with G8 leaders.
The first lady took her place just behind and to his left as the lights came up, and he focused on the teleprompter, the glass panels across the front of the podium reflecting his speech. The producer gave him his cue.
“Good evening,” he said, feeling relaxed and confident. “My fellow Americans, yesterday’s callous attack on the crew of the aircraft carrier Harry S. Truman, and their families and friends on the pier, showed us once again the fear many in the world have of America’s freedom and democracy. But it is our freedom and democracy that have made America the strongest nation on the planet, a nation that has welcomed millions to our shores, where they have built better lives. We will not respond to this attack by cowering. We will not respond by weakening our determination to work toward a more free and democratic world. This attack only reinforces our determination to defeat those who would see us live in fear by their heinous acts.”
He paused, allowing the tension to leave his voice. “Rest assured those responsible and their sponsors will be the ones to live in fear, to live with the knowledge that our nation will not rest until we have discovered their identities and eliminated their ability to bring violence to our shores. We will ensure that they and others like them understand that the cost of attacking the United States of America is their own destruction.
“To the crew members of USS Truman, to their families and friends, Maria and I share your sense of loss. Along with our fellow Americans, we send you our prayers and heartfelt condolences.”
Macklin again paused, his face impassive. “As your president and commander in chief, I want to make my intentions perfectly clear to those who carry out and to those who support the carrying out of terrorism against the United States and its allies: Every country harboring or supporting terrorist organizations will be held responsible for their actions. You will pay a stiff penalty for allowing those who seek to attack the United States to operate within your borders; you will pay a stiffer penalty if you support them. There will be no exceptions. I want to be absolutely clear on this point. You will clean your house of these vermin.”
Macklin again stopped for a few moments. “While the United States has responded militarily in the past to attacks, we have long sought to use both the carrot and the stick. We have pursued the promotion of freedom and democratic governments. Our nation has lost many brave men and women in these efforts. But, too often, we have been rewarded only with more extremism and discord.