“You bet it does. At the very end of the list-”
“ Phoenix?”
“No. He would have had to disclose that and resign from it, but he never belonged as far as we know. The big name on there: Martindale.”
“Kevin Martindale?”
“The one and only,” Kordus said. “The guy is a Washington institution-two-term vice president, two-term president, connected up the ying-yang. You can’t have a more powerful ally. It’s practically a ready-made cabinet.”
McLanahan and Martindale’s names were popping up more and more in the White House these days, Gardner thought-way too much for comfort. “You said Ann Page is on there?” Kordus nodded. “Did she report that on her prenomination questionnaire?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Check. If she didn’t, it’s cause to terminate her, if we need to.” Kordus nodded and made a note to himself on his ever-present PDA. “So Patrick McLanahan is turning to politics, huh?”
“If he is, he’s showing how amateurish he is,” Kordus said. “There’s only six months to their party’s nominating convention. He hasn’t campaigned at all except for a few speeches and pressers here and there. I’m not even positive what political party he belongs to, or if he intends on running as an independent, like Thomas Thorn.”
“He doesn’t need to build up national name recognition like senators and governors do-he’s already got plenty,” Gardner said. “All he has to do is show up with a slick well-oiled organization behind him, and he’ll wow the delegates. If he’s been talking with the other candidates, he might be able to avoid a floor fight and snatch the nomination.”
“What do you want to do, Joe?”
“Start building a file on candidate Patrick S. McLanahan,” Gardner said. “Start digging for dirt. That shouldn’t be too hard-the guy’s been tossed out of the Air Force twice.”
“I wish we could tell all the stories we know about the guy,” Kordus said.
Gardner shook his head. “The information would sink me and a lot of other folks as well, and McLanahan might not even take any heat himself-he’s definitely a loose cannon, but he gets the job done, and the folks really like that. No, use open-source and verified info only. And start a file on this not-for-profit group, too.”
“Maybe let Treasury take a look at them?”
“Of course-all aboveboard and routine, but let’s see what they forgot to report or filed incorrectly,” the president said. “That’s the problem with not forming an out-and-out exploratory committee-the IRS can look at you and it’s not considered a political attack. And let them take a look to make sure McLanahan paid all his taxes, paid his housekeeper’s payroll taxes, reported income on limo rides, all that stuff.”
“I’m on it.”
“I don’t want to body-slam the guy, unless he’s really doing something criminal,” the president said casually. “He’s still Patrick McLanahan, aerial assassin and genuine all-American hero. I just want to give him a taste of what it’s like playing in the D.C. big leagues. He thinks working in the basement of the White House gave him enough exposure-hell, he doesn’t know the half of it.”
EIGHT
Justifying a fault doubles it.
– FRENCH PROVERB
OFFICE OF THE VICE PRESIDENT, EISENHOWER EXECUTIVE OFFICE BUILDING, WASHINGTON, D.C.
LATER THAT MORNING
Although many past American vice presidents had an office in the West Wing of the White House, Joseph Gardner had completely banished Kenneth Phoenix to the Eisenhower Executive Office Building across the street from the White House, along with the National Security Council and other top advisers, preferring to have his chief of staff orchestrate the schedule and bring the staff to him rather than have them always hovering around. Phoenix took advantage of the gentle snub and greatly expanded his suite of offices, making it a true working office while retaining its traditional ceremonial uses.
Representatives from the president’s national security adviser, secretary of defense, State Department, attorney general, Central Intelligence Agency, and other federal departments got to their feet when Vice President Phoenix entered his conference room. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thanks for being here,” he said. He took a few minutes to shake hands and exchange pleasantries with the panel members. They were all young assistant deputy directors or lower rank-this panel didn’t rate any higher-ranked representatives. Phoenix took his seat at the head of the table, and the others took their seats as well. “Our goal today is to finish the draft of the revised National Space Policy and prepare it for review, and my goal is to get a draft in the president’s hand by the time he returns from his West Coast campaign swing. But before we begin: Any thoughts about the Chinese attacks in Yemen?”
“I think it’s still too early to tell for sure, sir,” the representative from the State Department, Annette Douglass, the highest-ranking member of the panel, said. “I understand the Security Council met about it early this morning, but I haven’t heard the outcome.”
“They authorized Russia to set up security at the port in Aden until the Chinese could remove their casualties,” Phoenix said. “Then China is going to lead a multinational investigation, including FBI and NCIS.”
“They must believe it was Islamist terrorists, maybe some sort of retaliation for Chinese attacks in Somalia,” Douglass said. “It fits. Yemen has been battling al-Qaeda-related insurgents for years. With Russians on the ground, things should quiet down quickly.”
“Let’s hope so,” the vice president said. He cast his eyes around the conference table. “Anybody else?” No one answered. “It might be a little early to say for sure, but I think it’s a little suspicious myself.” His eyes rested on the youngest member of the panel, the representative from the CIA, who seemed to perk up a bit at the vice president’s remark. “Mr. Dobson? Something?”
Tim Dobson looked a little disheveled and rumpled; his tie was a lot off center, and his dark hair was tousled a bit too much to be considered stylish, but Phoenix always found the young CIA assistant deputy director’s views insightful and his breadth of knowledge amazing. “Uh…yes, sir, there’s a few things I found fishy, too, sir.”
“Like what?”
“The…uh, the Chinese casualty count.”
“What was it…twelve?”
“Reportedly went up to twenty-one, sir,” Dobson said.
“Seem low to you?”
“Yes, sir,” Dobson said. “The ship was hit in the right rear quarter in the engineering spaces, close to crew quarters and a chow hall. Late afternoon, day shift on their way for the evening meal, brand-new port of call, and helicopter resupply ongoing-I would have expected more men on deck, more casualties.”
“Interesting,” Phoenix mused. “What else?”
“The ship itself,” Dobson said. “The Wuxi was one of the oldest Jianghu-2-class frigates in China ’s fleet-almost forty years old. It was in poor repair and had never been away from Chinese home waters before-in fact, it had spent most of the last five years in port, not even making any routine patrols. On more than one occasion it had been observed being towed by an oceangoing tug that had accompanied the Zhenyuan battle group-it had to go into Aden Harbor for refueling because its steering mechanism was too sloppy to attempt underway refueling that the rest of the task force was practicing. The rest of the Zhenyuan group is made up of much more modern designs.” Dobson was talking faster as he started to get excited about voicing his observations-apparently few others at Langley were willing to listen to him. “But all of a sudden there it is, thousands of miles from home.”
“So what?” the national security adviser’s representative asked. “The Chinese wanted to put together this task force. Maybe that ship was the best available.”
“What are you saying, Tim?” the vice president asked. “That it was old and expendable?”