The president paced the conference room of the NORAD ops center as Bobby Caulfield prepared to take notes, and Judge Sharon Summers, who had sworn him in just hours before, worked on a laptop, tapping out a memorandum to the president about how to rebuild and possibly restructure the Supreme Court. The president, in his anxiety, barely noticed Caulfield’s bloodshot eyes or the jitters in Caulfield’s left leg.
“Lee, I’m sensing you’re quite uncomfortable about where I may be going with China.”
There was a brief pause, and then the secretary replied, “Honestly, Mr. President, I’m not sure your analysis is wrong. But I’m not sure it’s right, either, and I shudder to think of the consequences of a full-scale nuclear war with Beijing.”
“As do I,” Oaks said. “And I appreciated the questions you raised. They’re important and they have to be asked.”
“I’ve got more where that came from,” James said.
“I’m sure you do, and that’s why I’m calling,” Oaks said. “The country needs a vice president, Lee, and so do I. I need someone I know. Someone I trust. Someone I can count on to give me wise counsel, even when it’s uncomfortable. And God forbid something should happen to me… Let me read you something.”
The president turned to Judge Summers, who slid over a copy of the U.S. Constitution. Oaks began to read a passage Summers had highlighted.
“‘In case of the removal of the president from office, or of his death, resignation, or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the vice president,’” Oaks noted, reading from Article II, Section 1, Clause 6, “‘and the Congress may by law provide for the case of removal, death, resignation, or inability, both of the president and vice president, declaring what officer shall then act as president, and such officer shall act accordingly, until the disability be removed, or a president shall be elected.’”
Oaks paused.
“One way or the other,” he continued, “the United States is going to war in the next few days. We’re at war already, of course. We just don’t know with whom. But regardless, we need a vice president. We need a clear chain of command, a clear line of succession, and I’m trying to figure out exactly how we do that on such short notice.”
The president asked James to pull up a copy of the Twenty-fifth Amendment on his laptop, which Judge Summers had e-mailed over to him. A moment later, James had the full texT — ratified on February 10, 1967—in front of him. The two men then reviewed it carefully, line by line, as Summers and Caulfield looked on.
SECTION 1. In case of the removal of the President from office or of his death or resignation, the Vice President shall become President.
“Right now,” Oaks said, “Judge Summers says we’re operating in a kind of constitutional limbo.”
“That’s a dangerous place to be, Mr. President,” James said. “At any time, but especially now.”
“My thoughts exactly, Lee,” the president concurred.
He proceeded with another section of the amendment.
SECTION 2. Whenever there is a vacancy in the office of the Vice President, the President shall nominate a Vice President who shall take office upon confirmation by a majority vote of both Houses of Congress.
“That’s pretty straightforward language, sir,” James said.
“It is indeed, Lee,” Oaks agreed. “And it’s the real reason I’m calling. I want to nominate you to be my vice president. But my problem is, we don’t have a Congress, so who’s going to confirm your nomination?”
“My goodness,” James replied. “I’m deeply honored, Mr. President. But…”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause.
“But what?” the president finally asked, in no mood for a debate.
“Well, sir, with all due respect,” James explained, “aside from the constitutional issues you raise — which are formidable, I agree — I don’t know if the nation needs a failed Homeland Security secretary getting a major job promotion right now.”
“And who would you suggest I ask instead? the failed Defense secretary?” the president replied. “Or perhaps should I reach back into the grave and nominate the failed director of Central Intelligence? or the failed director of the FBI? or the failed secretary of state? or maybe the failed director of the Secret Service?”
“Sir,” James replied, “I’m just saying—”
But the president cut him off. “I know what you’re saying, Lee. But I need a vice presidenT — today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not next month. Too much is at stake. The way it looks now, it could literally take weeks before we find out who in Congress is still alive and healthy enough to reconvene the House and the Senate. That’s crazy. We simply don’t have that kind of time. And what if I’m incapacitated somehow? What if I have a heart attack or a stroke or whatever in the next few days or weeks? Given my history, anything’s possible, right? But look at sections 3 and 4 and tell me how that’s going to work.”
They continued to pore over the text.
“Mr. President,” James finally noted, “if I’m reading this correctly, and I think I am, all of these ‘line of succession’ provisions hinge on the presence of a constitutionally valid vice president, which we don’t have, and we can’t get because we don’t have a Congress.”
“Exactly, Lee,” Oaks said, “but I’m moving forward anyway.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Judge Summers and I have been discussing this in detail,” Oaks explained. “She agrees we have to move quickly and decisively to protect the chain of command and the line of succession. Thus, I hereby nominate you as vice president of the United States. I’m transmitting a letter to that effect to Congress in absentia, and I’m going to have you sworn in as acting vice president by a federal judge from Philly. He’s on his way to Mount Weather even as we speak. He should be there within the hour. Then I’m going to give you the portfolios of State, Treasury, and Homeland Security. We’ve got a lot to do, and I can’t do it alone. Can I count on your help?”
“Absolutely, Mr. President; but again I have to ask you: under the circumstances, are you really sure that all this is legal?” James asked.
“To be perfectly honest, Lee,” Oaks replied, “at this point, I’m not really sure of anything.”
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And Indira Rajiv was angrier than she had ever been. She had taken an enormous risk. She had reached out to the only two people in the world she thought she could confide in — Jon and Erin BennetT — and they had turned her down.
They didn’t know it was her, of course. That would have been too much, at least for now, and thus she had electronically altered her voice in both of her calls to Bennett. But she literally had no one else to talk to. She wasn’t about to call the president herself. She barely knew him and she was, after all, on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. Why would they believe her? What deal could she possibly cut? She was guilty of treason. She was facing the death penalty.
The Bennetts, she knew, were her only option. If she could get to them, they could get to the president. They could make him listen. They could make this right. But she had to see them in person. She had to tell them what she’d done, and why, and how sorry she was, face-to-face. They had to look in her eyes, and she needed to look in theirs. They had to know the remorse she felt, or they would never believe her.
Maybe she shouldn’t have asked for the money, she thought as she paced her tiny, anonymous, windowless office, chain-smoking cigarettes and mumbling to herself. Maybe that was too much. Maybe she’d gone too far. But no, Bennett hadn’t balked at the money, had he? He had promised to get it for her. The only point he had actually refused was the trip to Bangkok.