The secretary didn't seem to follow all of that and replied, "Well, your name has been placed on the list for promotion to general officer. The president will review that list shortly."
Keith, still trying to get something on record, said, "I'm no longer on active duty, sir, having retired from the Army at the same time I retired from government service. So I assume this promotion will be as a reserve officer on the inactive rolls."
The secretary had his own agenda and continued, "The position you are to fill is that of military aide and advisor to the president's national security advisor. Colonel Chandler will brief you on your duties later." The secretary added, "Your office will be here in the West Wing."
He said "West Wing," Keith thought, as if he were saying "at the right hand of God." And here they were, in the seat of power, where proximity to power was itself power, a short walk to the Oval Office where you could literally bump into the president in the corridor the very epicenter of national and international moving and shaking. It was not the sort of workplace, Keith thought, where your friends or family could drop in and have a cup of coffee or ask you to lunch. Keith asked, "Would my office be on the second floor or in the basement?"
Colonel Chandler answered, "In the basement."
"Can you see the sky? I mean, is there a little window?"
Chandler seemed a bit bemused. He replied, "It's interior. You get a secretary."
"Do you have plants?"
Charlie Adair forced a smile and explained to everyone, "Colonel Landry has spent the last two months on his family's farm and has become nature-sensitive."
"How delightful," said the secretary of defense. He asked Keith, "Do you have any questions for me, Colonel?"
The man was half out of his chair and staring at his wristwatch, so Keith replied, "No, sir."
The secretary stood, and so did everyone else. "Good. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have another appointment." He looked at Keith and said, "General Watkins's loss is the White House's gain. Good luck." He left.
General Watkins seized on the defense secretary's departure as his opportunity to say to Keith, "I'm surprised you decided to return to Washington. I had the feeling you'd had enough."
"I had."
The general looked at him quizzically and added, "Maybe a new job will invigorate you."
Keith replied, "Perhaps when I'm wearing the same star that you have, sir, we can engage in some sort of athletic contest to see who has the most vigor."
General Watkins did not seem happy with that remark, but sensing a subtle shift in the power structure, he let it pass. He said, "Well, gentlemen, you don't need me any longer, and I, too, have an appointment. Good day." He looked at Keith and said, "Politics is not your strong suit, Colonel."
"Thank you."
Watkins departed, leaving Keith, Charlie Adair, and Colonel Chandler standing in the Cabinet Room. Since they were all peers, more or less, they sat without anyone inviting them to, and Keith took a seat several places away.
Chandler was speaking about the job, and Keith tuned out again. This entire so-called meeting was a staged performance, with a cameo appearance by the secretary of defense. It was also part protocol the secretary was Colonel Landry's big boss, if Keith still considered himself a soldier and the other players had their bit parts as well. Charlie Adair was Judas, General Watkins was the scapegoat, Colonel Chandler was Pilate washing his hands of the whole mess, and Ted Stansfield was the emcee. Keith knew his part but was not delivering his lines very well.
Keith's thoughts turned again to Annie, and he wondered what she'd make of all this if she were here. As he'd said to Charlie, she was a simple country girl, but she wasn't stupid, and in fact she'd done far better academically in high school and college than he had. She had also come from the same midwestern populist tradition that he had, and if she were here in this room, he had little doubt that she'd find all of this pomp, protocol, and pecking order slightly distasteful, and undoubtedly she'd see through this nonsense in a lot less time than it had taken him.
In the early days of his service, the world was more dangerous, but the government seemed to him a lot simpler and more benign. There had been men around in those days who'd helped defeat the Axis powers, men who were dedicated public servants and not pigs at the government trough, men with a sense of purpose and mission. Now even the Vietnam generation of men, such as himself, were retiring or were being asked to leave, and he didn't particularly care for the new crop.
During the next five minutes, Colonel Chandler described the duties and responsibilities of the job, putting it in the most favorable light, forgetting to mention twelve-hour days, homework, or crises in countries whose time zones, holidays, and Sabbaths didn't mesh well with those of Washington, D.C.
Keith interrupted Chandler and asked, "Did you enjoy it?"
"Enjoy?" He thought a moment, then said, "It's very stressful here in the White House, but very rewarding."
"How can anything stressful be rewarding?"
"Well... it can be. Maybe I should say I felt I was doing something for my country, not for myself."
"But were you doing the right thing for your country?"
"I thought I was. I was. It's not over, you know. There are still a lot of bad guys out there."
"Right. Maybe the new good guys can handle the new bad guys."
"We have the experience."
"We're experienced with the old bad guys. We may possibly understand the new realities, but we think in the old way." He looked at Colonel Chandler and asked him, "Do you suggest I take this job?"
Chandler cleared his throat and glanced at Adair, who made a motion with his hand as if to say, "Answer the man."
Colonel Chandler thought a moment, then replied, "I'm glad I have it in my resume, but I wouldn't wish these last two years on my worst enemy."
"Thank you."
The door opened, and in strode Edward Yadzinski, the president's national security advisor. Everyone stood, and Yadzinski shook hands all around. He said to Keith, "I'm delighted you could come on such short notice."
"Thank you, sir. So am I."
"I have another appointment, but I wanted to chat a moment. I've read your file, and I'm quite impressed with the range of your experiences from rifle platoon leader to your last assignment. I'm looking for someone like you who will be forthright and honest with me. Colonel Chandler will vouch for that. I like military men because they have the attributes I want."
"Yes, sir." And Keith thought, because they usually had no political ambitions, they followed orders, and they could be transferred easily instead of having to be fired. Like priests or ministers, military officers had a calling that theoretically transcended their careers or personal lives. People in the executive branch found it useful to have a certain number of military people on staff: indentured servants in mufti.
Yadzinski continued, "Your former colleagues speak well of you, Colonel. Right, Charlie?"
Charlie Adair agreed. "Colonel Landry was an asset to my department and respected throughout the intelligence community."
Keith said to his potential boss, "I never got along with General Watkins, and I caused Mr. Adair a lot of anxiety."
Charlie winced, but Yadzinski smiled. "You're not much of a diplomat, are you? In fact, I was present that time in the Situation Room when you asked the secretary of state if we had a foreign policy." He chuckled. "I like that. And I'll back you up, Colonel. I work directly for the president, and you work directly for me."
Keith thought he might actually like Yadzinski and would have liked working for him five or six years ago. But it was too late. Keith said, "Despite my differences with Mr. Adair, I found him to be extremely knowledgeable, competent, and dedicated." Keith was glad he'd gotten that in, but clearly Yadzinski wasn't paying attention.