“Sorry I put us down in these waters, Rossy,” the president whispered when Komari and his men were working on the others.
“You saved a lot of lives, sir.”
“Did I?” They were surrounded by a dozen men with guns.
The soldier closest to them couldn’t stop gaping at Taylor. He’d seen the look before. Pride over a valued prize. Word had spread that the prisoners included the American president. But Taylor assumed that very fact created a serious problem. They have to figure out what to do with me.
“Surely the infidels will pay handsomely for their leader,” Atef boasted. “We will trade the keys to the capitol for his life. Right?”
Komari wasn’t so sure. Bargaining would surely give us away. The Americans can trace radio signals. Far better to kill them now and forget that we ever found the infidels. But another thought called out to the commander.
“The Prophet may be testing us, Atef.”
“Testing? Why?”
“To see if we have the strength to demonstrate our commitment.”
The commander’s junior didn’t understand. “How? We have done what no army has ever done in history. We have captured the American president.”
“We have done little more than put ourselves in the enemy’s sight. Unless, this is the Prophet’s way of determining whether we deserve to continue.” Komari actually believed what he was saying. “Perhaps we can take the heads of our prisoners?”
Atef was aghast. “Sir!”
“Atef, the Great Satan is certain to try to hunt us down. We shot a boatload of unbelievers. We destroyed their jet fighter. But they don’t know who or where we are. If we try to bargain for the president’s life, we will reveal ourselves. They are smart. They have their technology. But if we kill them and wait for their searches to end, we will be free to strike again. After all, as it was with the revelation of God to the Prophet Muhammad, out jihad demands we command the right and forbid the wrong. Our right is to kill the Americans. We forbid them from interrupting our holy cause. We must, as in the hadith — the word of the Prophet — avert injustice by action.”
It seemed to make sense to Atef. “So it is a test. Allah be praised.”
“Issue the Warning Order,” J3 declared. The commander of USASOCOM didn’t want to lose another moment.
“Yes, sir,” replied Admiral Zach Standish of NAVSPECWARCOM. The Navy Special Warfare Command oversaw the SEALs and their two other components, the Special Boat Squadron (SBS) and the SEAL Swimmer Deliver Vehicles (SDVs).
“Where are the nearest SDVs?” the general asked.
Standish replied, “The 7th Fleet has two on the Essex.”
“No subs?”
“Too far away. But here’s the problem, we don’t have a full team onboard right now.”
“Why not?”
“They went into the Solomons after the attack,” Standish explained. “So, we’ll have to bring in another platoon to hook up with the Essex.”
J3 asked the obvious. “Where’s the nearest? Coronado?”
“No, luckily Pearl.” Pearl Harbor.
J3 calculated the number of men the two submersibles could transport. Eight. It would have to be enough. Actually, SEALs were known to work best in tight eight-man groups.
“Deploy them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And confirm when the Warning Order has been received and what time the Team will be airborne.”
“And their mission, sir?”
“We’re a go for a D.A.” A Direct Action: military-speak for a combat operation.
The Warning Order set a number of critical things in order. It put the U.S. Navy SEALs on notice, it established the operational chain of command, it readied combat and tech support, and it got SEALs where they needed to go. Heaven and Earth opened with the issuance of a Warning Order. Generally the act provided SEALs with up to twelve hours to prepare. They’d have a lot less today.
“What are we looking at?” Katie was confused by the banks of monitors. The chief justice was by her side.
“Satellite views fibered in from the Pentagon’s National Military Command Center, the NMCC,” explained Roarke. “They’re fed from various agencies including the National Geospatial Agency in Herndon, Virginia, west of D.C. There’s also intel from surveillance planes over the target area and we’re seeing tactical maps of the Indonesian islands. But I can’t help you there.”
“There are so many,” she observed.
“Thousands. But,” he pointed to a large hi-def monitor, “fewer in the immediate vicinity. That’s what they’re focusing on.”
“Then he’s alive? The president is alive?”
“We don’t know. All we’re doing is tracking a boat we presume he’s on. We’re waiting for infrared, closer satellite pictures, and more telemetry.”
Eve Goldman walked in with Bernie Bernstein. He was just finishing briefing her when Chief Justice Leopold joined them.
“Madame Attorney General,” the austere Supreme Court judge said.
“Chief justice,” she replied. Both sounded grim. “We have some work to do.” It was an understatement.
Katie stepped forward and said hello to Eve Goldman. “Attorney General, good to see you again. I mean…” She tried to apologize for her flub. Good was out of place.
“We’re all frazzled, Ms. Kessler. And under the circumstances, it is good to see you.”
Katie immediately felt better.
The AG continued. “I understand you’ve been doing some comprehensive research. Anything that bears discussion now?”
Brad Rutberg and Bernie Bernstein moved closer to the conversation.
“I’m afraid I have a great deal of long-range thinking. Succession is inherently flawed as legislated. But as far as today?” Katie looked to Chief Justice Browning for support. “There is only the law.”
He agreed without opinion.
“But,” she said surprising everyone, “I actually do have one thought.”
“Ms. Kessler, not another of your polemics,” the nation’s senior justice contended.
“If you’ll allow me, sir. I’ve read a great deal about bumping.”
“We’re not facing that situation,” he pointed out.
“No, but for argument sake, if the Speaker of the House is not able to assume office at the moment that a successor must be named, then the senate pro tem serves as acting president. Right?”
“That’s right,” Rutberg chimed in.
“It could be because the Speaker was killed in a catastrophic event,” Katie continued.
“Arguably so,” the chief justice remarked.
“But the House majority could quickly elect a new speaker and according to law, he or she would bump the acting president.”
Browning failed to see where her argument was going. “You’re outlining a completely different scenario, Ms. Kessler.”
“I am, your honor.”
“Then what is your point?”
The attorney general also wanted to know. “Please, counselor. Congressman Patrick is on his way. With the president down and presumed incapacitated, perhaps even dead, we must proceed accordingly.” Even if it means making that moron Patrick president, she said to herself.
“Really?” Katie said. “I think there may be another possibility.” She showed a devilish, almost political smile. “A bit of bumping, but quite within reason.”
“What? What kind of possibility?” Chief Justice Browning demanded.