The secretary of defense paused, casting about for the right words. “In principle, I agree with Senator Stevens and General Reese, but I just don’t know how we can pull it off and still defend our own soil at the same time. I know I should be the guy waving the flag and charging up the hill, but I’m inclined to agree with Secretary of State Vance. We’ve got to find more ways to exert influence on the Arab countries, and Israel as well.”
Abruptly, President Pierce stood up. “Thank you, gentlemen, and Ms. Black,” he added, nodding toward the national security advisor. “Thank you all for coming. I’ll be in touch with each of you privately for further input. We’ll meet again on Thursday, same time. I’d like each of you to work out your best and worst case scenarios for our next meeting.”
As the members of the Special Task Force gathered their papers and headed out, President Pierce asked Carrie Black to stay behind for a few moments.
“So what’s eating you?” he asked, as soon as the door was closed.
“Do you really trust these guys, Mr. President?” Black said. “It’s as if everyone has multiple hidden agendas.” She sighed, plunking herself down on the sofa. “Frankly, I get tired of trying to figure out who is doing what to whom and why.”
“Let me tell you something, Carrie,” Pierce said, sipping his now cold coffee. “I learned a valuable lesson when I was eighteen. My father sent me for the summer to work on a cattle ranch in New Mexico. My job was to break the wild mustangs. Some days I swear they almost broke me instead. One of my daddy’s favorite sayings was, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. During my time there I worked with an old Mexican vaquero about four feet tall with no teeth. He was the foreman of the operation. He didn’t speak English and my Spanish was pretty basic, but somehow we communicated. It was he and the horses who taught me about trust.
He smiled at her. “I trust everyone and no one, Carrie. Oh, I’m prepared to listen to anyone, but I never believe what they say, at least not fully. The truth, like fine wine, country music and a good-looking woman, is a matter of opinion. I’ve found listening to be the best policy for gathering input. But I prefer to decide for myself what is the truth and just whom to trust.” He took another sip of coffee. “Mason was right. It needs warming up, but we do have the best coffee in Washington.”
“I prefer decaf,” she said.
“I’ll make a note of that for our next meeting. Anyway, as a general rule in politics, and you may want to remember this, I’ve found it doesn’t pay to trust the newcomers or the old timers. The newcomers are too easily swayed and haven’t yet formed their own opinions. They are much too eager to kiss ass and get reelected or reappointed. As for the old timers, the fact that they’ve survived in Washington for any length of time means they’ve sold their soul to the highest bidder, or bidders. It’s the mid-career politicians I find most trustworthy. They’ve weathered the freshman temptations of corruption and bribery but haven’t been around long enough to be totally owned by special interests.” The President stood up and turned to stare out the window. With spring still to come the Rose Garden looked bleak and desolate, the thorny bushes severely trimmed.
“And what about Senator Stevens?”
“If you follow my rule the senior senator from the great State of Virginia is definitely not to be trusted. To flourish on the Hill as long as he has means he must be pretty deep in someone’s pocketbook and he probably has a blackmail dossier on nearly every politician of any importance. Including you and me.”
The President turned back to face her. “But what I can’t figure out about Senator Stevens is how he’s able to get hold of such current intelligence on the terrorists. Everyone knows the American intelligence community is still organized for a cold war. It’s going to take them another ten years to fully adjust to the realities of terrorism and the new world order.” President Pierce shook his head, wondering how the United States of America had made it this far without being decimated from the inside out. “It’s the mountain of information he has at his fingertips that I don’t trust. If I were a betting man I’d say he’s been bought by a very powerful interest. The question is which one?”
Caroline Black gathered her briefing papers and with an approving nod from the President headed for the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she asked, “And what about me, Mr. President?”
“Well, you fall into the newcomer category, Carrie. If you ever graduate I’ll let you know.” President Pierce sat down behind his desk and watched the door close behind her.
A small door on the left side of the Oval Office opened. “Come in Karl. Did you hear the proceedings this morning?”
“Yes Mr. President. Very interesting.”
“I only have a few moments. What have you got?”
“Just a few thoughts on your dilemma. May I continue?”
President Pierce switched on his intercom. “Hold my next appointment for a few moments, will you, Miriam?”
The Hart Senate Office Building
“He’s beginning to waver.” Senator Stevens spoke into his private cell phone. “Now he’s trying to decide which path to choose. And he’s actually listening to input from all sides for Christ sakes.”
“Is that all you have to report?” The voice at the other end was synthesized and scrambled. “I wish you had more information for me because we have a major problem.”
“Now what?” Stevens sat down in his armchair. “You people always create problems and then blame the world for not helping you out.”
“He escaped from the hospital sometime in the early morning.”
“Escaped? Shit. Well, it’s your problem. My job was to bring you the doctor for a change of identity so you could use him to track down his old Beirut friends and the terrorist cell. I did my job and quite frankly I couldn’t care less if you’ve gone and messed up your job.”
“But he could draw attention to us, and ultimately to you.”
“Then put out an alert to the police. After all, he has the face of a known assassin.”
“And when they find him and he divulges his true identity?” the voice said. “Someone is certain to start an investigation. And the terrorist cell may accelerate their timetable before we find out who they are. No, we’ll find him quickly, and if we can’t capture him then we’ll eliminate him. In the meantime my people will track down all the American students at AUB that year and put pressure on them. One of them must know something about these terrorists.”
“If you’re going to hunt him down, use some of the money we keep lavishing on you people and hire real professionals. I don’t want you implicated. If anyone finds out about your activities on American soil it might tip the opinion polls the wrong way.” Senator Stevens paused, hearing only silence in his receiver. “Are you still there? Have you fainted or just shit in your pants?”
“I’m still here, Senator. I was just thinking about what this little incident might do to your illustrious career…”
“Don’t threaten me, you bastard. Go find your lost doctor.” He clicked his cell phone shut and tossed in onto the sofa. Muttering, he returned to his desk. “They’re all the same. Too much religion and definitely too much inbreeding.”
Chapter Eight
Sweet Briar College
The brick buildings and grounds looked the same. So did the coeds walking to class in the cold air, or sharing cigarettes in the parking lot next to the library. Everything seemed the same, except him. Not only did he have the face of someone else, he was no longer a part of this place. Professor Matthew Richards was dead.