Bridge had wanted to get that out for years. He never had a good enough foundation. Commander William S. Donaldson III was a United States Navy pilot and Vietnam War veteran with more than twenty-four years of experience in nearly all phases of naval aviation. He challenged the US government’s conclusions on what caused Flight 800 to crash into the Atlantic Ocean on July 17, 1996. The Boeing 747–100 literally exploded in midair shortly after takeoff from JFK International Airport, killing everyone on board. Hundreds of witnesses reported evidence of offensive targeting that originated from either the ground or the water. There was also an indisputable presence of the explosive compound PETN around a gaping hole in the plane’s fuselage.
“It’s got to be attached to a passenger who is somehow getting on board. What if we simply disallowed all carry-on luggage or hand searched each and every pers—”
“Mr. President,” Bridge interrupted. “You once told me that I could speak my mind with you as long as it was respectful and from my heart. I hold you to your word. You’re micromanaging. There are no alternatives. You have the authority and more than enough evidence. Shut it down.”
The president bristled at the public rebuke, but he knew that Bridge was right. He’d been in office over three years. His party had held Congressional majorities for six years. His record on fighting terror was solid; his foreign policy was both prudent and effective, and his domestic agenda was on the rise. The cyclical economy had shed all signs of recession and was showing steady growth. The decision he faced was akin to disciplining a child with a dangerous weapon. Not to mention that this child could vote.
“How long was air traffic stopped after 9/11?”
“Three days,” Slavin spoke up.
The president digested that.
“Three days, and the economy went into recession for two years. What’s first?”
“A threat announcement,” Bridge replied. “There are two choices. Since we’ve abandoned the color-coded severity levels and created the National Terrorism Advisory System, we must issue either an elevated or imminent alert. Unfortunately, we’re trapped either way, sir. Elevated suggests we may or may not be attacked. Imminent implies that real and credible evidence exists that an attack is forthcoming. With neither being true, we must assume the worst case. The question is for how long.”
“Thank you, Thomas. Andrew, have Mr. Dorn join us,” the president requested. He turned to his Secretary of Transportation. “What can we expect and when? I want to know the immediate ramifications for the airlines and our citizens.”
A short Native American with no formal education, Norman Minka’s tribal mediation skills had helped avoid a nationwide Teamster’s strike last year. His face carried a permanent grimace forged by the fierce winds in Chignik Bay in Alaska. When he spoke, passion often trumped grammar. He and the president regularly hunted together, and he had already alerted his state’s network of bush pilots. An airline shutdown would strand their customers on remote fly-ins.
Minka opened an inch-thick folder. “Well, right now there are 147 domestic air operator certificates in use and 170 foreign carriers allowed to fly in the United States. This includes commercial passenger and cargo. There are 7,000 carriers for hire and 223,000 general aviation planes operating at 19,500 airports. A nationwide ground stop would halt 24,000 departures and 1.7 million enplaned passengers per day. The airlines employ 486,000 full-time and 98,000 parttime people. At this time, there’s no way to know or predict how many would be laid off. That would be based on the length of the stoppage and each airline’s cash position. About 49,000 maintenance personnel might still be able to perform their jobs, but 71,000 pilots and copilots won’t. Stopping the airline business sector is a momentous undertaking in itself, but the short- and long-term ramifications to down range sectors dependent on flying go on and on. At ground level, major cities will face massive gridlock. Rental car stations, subways, bus lines, railways, and even taxis will become lifelines. We must deal with the ten largest first: New York, LA, Atlanta, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, Dallas/Fort Worth, Miami, Washington, and Baltimore. People need to get back to their homes. We have two things on our side: it’s early in the day, and there are no active threats. Carriers should be able to bring down flights in an orderly manner. Some will be near enough to destinations, but many won’t. So we’re back to severe inconvenience.”
“International flights en route over the Pacific and Atlantic will be turned back unless they’ve passed midpoints or are low on fuel,” Slavin added. “Our neighbors will cooperate with whatever we decide.”
Minka continued. “That covers the first few hours. After one day, business sectors must brace for the worst. Cargo and intermediary suppliers who don’t or can’t keep inventory and depend on timely imports will be hurt. The trucking and rail industries will be overwhelmed with the increased volume. I won’t get into minutia here, but please know that the financial consequences of stopping operations for the airlines alone are simply devastating. I have preliminary figures on the economic imp—”
“Thank you, Norman. Not now.”
“Mr. President,” Bard spoke up. “Sir, there is no such thing as an orderly shutdown. You heard the airline CEOs admit that their companies would be thrown into immediate and utter chaos.”
“Yes, and they also admitted that they understood the reasoning and would support the decision. They also have no choice.”
“Still, I’d like to suggest that we all take a step back for a moment and consider the catastrophic burden that we are intending to place on this country and its economy should you take this course of action. Might we at least consider announcing a delayed or phased approach, say forty-eight hours? Certainly that would give people time to prepare for and even avoid those inconveniences that Norman outlined. Perhaps twenty-four hours, or even twelve or eight? I don’t believe that any of us in this room fully appreciate the gravity here. This isn’t some restaurant or shopping mall down the block that we’re intending to shutter, this is an entire economic sector — one that reaches so deeply into a myriad of others that the full weight of the consequences cannot possibly be known.”
The room fell silent. The president’s eyes observed every face. He wanted reaction. Eye contact, a twitch, a nod, or even a head shake — something that would indicate a position, pro or con. There was none.
“Thomas, do we need input from Commerce, Health and Human Services, or Defense?”
“No, sir,” Bridge answered quickly. “I honestly don’t know what value they could add to the up-front decision. They’d be more concerned after. This is my recommendation and mine alone.”
“Mr. Riley, do you agree with my Chief of Staff?”
“Mr. Bard has some valid points.”
“But do you think he’s right? Do you think we should wait?”