“Mobile launchers. During the Gulf War they had some in silos, but they were too easy for us to target. Mobile launchers at night. They have them hidden in a barn, then just drive them out, set them up, and launch. After that they go back into the barn and reload.”
I grunted an acknowledgement. The phone rang at that and I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Carl, it’s John McCain. You’ve heard about the rocket attack?”
“That’s why I’m calling. How bad is it?” I asked him.
“Terrible! One missile slammed directly into a hospital in downtown Adana. What the explosion didn’t destroy is now on fire. There are going to be hundreds dead!” he reported.
“Oh, crap! John, you need to talk to Erdogan. Tell him we are sorry and promise that we will help with rebuilding the hospital. Promise your children if you have to! If he forces us out, it is game over!”
“Carl, I am meeting with the Prime Minister right now. He is furious with the Iraqis! He wants to talk to you,” replied McCain.
My eyebrows rose at that. “Put him on.” As I said this, Condi Rice and Tom Ridge came in. They must have been called as well. I pointed them towards the colonel and mimed that she was to brief them. Then I turned my attention back to my phone.
“I’m handing the phone to the interpreter, Carl.”
I nodded. This was not the usual method, where we had mutual interpreters and so forth. We just didn’t have the time. After a moment of fumbling around, I was greeted, “President Buckman?”
“Prime Minister Erdogan, thank you for talking to me. I have just heard about the attack on your hospital, sir. You have my sympathies and those of my entire country. This is a horrible action. I promise to help you rebuild it, sir, even better than before.”
“Thank you, President Buckman, but that is not why I asked to speak to you. I have been talking to your Vice President McCain, and wish to offer our help. Saddam Hussein, he is…” Suddenly there was a vitriolic attack from the background that I couldn’t understand. It seemed that Turkish was a fine language to cuss in! After a moment, the translator continued, “Saddam Hussein is a mad dog and a monster who must be stopped!”
“Your assistance will be most welcome, sir. I am not qualified to tell you what needs to be done, but I will have our generals talk to your generals and we will figure this out. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, yes, of course. We will kill this animal! What he does is an abomination against Allah! My entire country is repulsed by this attack!”
“I couldn’t agree more, sir. After this is over, I hope to make a visit. I would like to meet with you, and certainly to help with the reconstruction of the hospital. I hope that will be possible.”
“Yes, yes, of course!”
There was some fumbling on the other end, and then I had John McCain back. “Carl, it’s me again. Erdogan is simply furious over this.”
“John, I have Tom and Condi here, and I think they are trying to get Pace on the phone. Stick around over there. I don’t know what is going to play out, but this is a big help. We’ll get back to you, and probably sooner than later.”
“Roger that!”
We hung up and I looked over at my Secretaries of State and Defense. “Okay, now you know as much as I do. I just spoke to John McCain and Prime Minster Erdogan. Erdogan is royally pissed at the Iraqis and has offered to begin assistance. As in combat assistance, not just letting us use the air base at Incirlik!”
Tom gave a low whistle and smiled, and Condi said, “Well done, Mister President!”
“Don’t thank me, thank John. When I called him, he was already meeting with Erdogan. Anyway, you need to fill in the various ambassadors, and talk to Eric in Tel Aviv. Tom, you need to get together with Pace and figure this out. What can the Turks add to this?”
At that point the phone rang, and somebody announced it was Prime Minister Olmert from Israel. That was not a surprise. As the others watched and listened, I picked up the phone. “Prime Minister Olmert, this is Carl Buckman. Thank you for calling me. If you hadn’t called me, I was certainly going to call you.”
“Mister President, I assume you have heard that Saddam Hussein has decided to attack the peaceful state of Israel.”
So much for pleasant chit chat. “Yes, Mister Prime Minister, I am quite aware of this. I was just talking to our mutual friends in Ankara. They have also been targeted, and they have taken serious casualties.”
“We have heard that as well, and you may give them our sympathies, but that is not why I called. I know that your Ambassador and your General Shinseki have been asking that Israel not respond to this provocation, but I assure you, our forbearance will not last forever. You need to do something about this, or we will!”
“I understand your concerns, and I can promise that we will redouble our efforts to stop these attacks,” I said.
“I must tell you, sir, that I have talked this over with my advisers, and we are agreed that if that mad dog uses chemical weapons against the state of Israel, we will have to make a response, and it will be most grave indeed.”
Well, that was blunt enough! “I understand your concern, and I will take it up with my advisers. Please, allow us to see what we can do first, to end this threat.”
“Good day, Mister President.” He hung up on me, and I winced.
“That didn’t sound very good,” commented Tom Ridge.
I grimaced. “No, not at all. He pretty much stated that if they get hit with chemical weapons Iraq is going to turn into a radioactive hole in the ground.” Nobody else looked like they enjoyed that prospect either.
Before I could discuss it further, it was announced that General Pace was on the speakerphone. “General, thank you for calling. Before we get too far along, let me ask you something. Hussein launched some missiles last night at Israel, just like in the Gulf War. Can we stop them? What can we do? The Israelis are not amused!”
“That is really tough, Mister President. Iraq is a big place, about two thirds the size of Texas, and those missiles can be launched from something the size of a tractor trailer.” His voice was clear, but sounded like he was speaking from a car or limousine. “During the Gulf War we spent 40 % of all our sorties on Scud hunts and never found a one of them.”
“Great! Well, we are going to have to do something about them, because they are pissing off the Israelis and the Turks.”
“Yes, sir. I just had my driver turn it around and I will be in the Pentagon in a bit. I will be in touch.”
“Call me when you figure something out.”
I hit the button and cut off the call. “Well, you heard it. We have both a real problem as well as a real help here. I want the Turks involved as much as we can. That gets a third NATO member involved, and we can get some more cooperation out of the others. Kuwait is on board, and the Saudis are making nice, too. Tom, we need to figure out a way to neutralize the Scuds, and I don’t much care how we do it. Send more Patriots to Israel. Start running Scud hunts at night. Whatever it takes! Condi, get together with your embassies and with Eric and John and make sure we are all speaking with the same voice.”
Tom Ridge asked, “Isn’t the Chinese symbol for crisis the symbols for danger and opportunity mixed together?”
I shrugged and gave him a blank look. “No idea, but if that’s true, we got us a genuine crisis going on. Let’s try to maximize the opportunity part of that.” I stood up. “I am going to let everybody else work on this. You know how to do your jobs better than I do.” I looked at the team in the Situation Room. “Colonel, Major, thank you for the information. You and the whole crew have been very helpful.” I headed back upstairs to tell Marilyn that the world was going to survive another day.