“That was one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, sir. Could I have a few minutes of your time before I answer that remark?” I asked.
He nodded. “Of course, Mr. President. How can I help?”
“It is related to my current status. As I am sure you understand, I am currently only the Acting President. When the authors of the 25th Amendment wrote the bill, they were contemplating the President being ill or otherwise indisposed. They certainly never thought that he might not be available. Now, while the Cabinet has confirmed me as the Acting President, I am facing considerable opposition from one particular individual, and I was hoping that while you were here you might be willing to speak to him.”
He eyed me curiously. “Who?”
“Secretary of State Cheney,” I admitted. “I hate to admit that I can’t control the situation as well as I would like to, but that is the truth. He refuses to accept the situation, is telling people I am not the ‘real’ President, and is fighting me at every turn. Worst of all, he is telling the people he works with not to cooperate with me. I am afraid that George led him to believe that I was going to be removed as Vice President, and that he would be named as the new Vice President. I am on the verge of firing him, but I simply do not need the headache it will cause me. You worked with him in your Administration, and I was hoping you could speak to him. Our nation needs to be unified now, not split apart like this.”
President Bush grimaced at this and looked away slightly, but then turned back to face me and nodded. “I’ve talked to George and he indicated to me he was trying to get Dick into your office, but I counseled him that if he really wanted to do that, he would need to wait until the re-election. George does have his own mind on things, though.” I could tell the admission left a sour taste in his mouth. It was my understanding that the Bush family couldn’t quite figure out how George W. had ended up in the Presidency. His younger brother Jeb was considered the smart one in the family!
“I think that if you were to talk to Dick, perhaps you would be able to reason with him. He doesn’t have to like me, but he cannot continue to publicly fight and belittle me in front of the Cabinet and other agency heads. The next time he does it I will have no choice but to remove him from office, regardless of the price I have to pay. Earlier today I asked the Director of the FBI and the Administrator of the FAA to resign, and they complied. When I asked the head of the CIA to resign, he refused, with Cheney’s backing, and I fired him and had the Secret Service remove him from the building. I will not tolerate Dick Cheney’s attitude, and I would dearly love for you to explain that to him in no uncertain terms.”
“You fired Wolfowitz! Oh my God!”
I nodded. Paul Wolfowitz had held the position that President Bush had once held, Director of the CIA. “Yes, sir. He and Scooter Libby have been slanting the intelligence under the direction of Dick Cheney. They want to go to war with Iraq, so they are saying the Iraqis were involved in this.” I wasn’t sure how much of this he was aware of. By tradition, ex-Presidents can receive the President’s Daily Brief also.
“And they weren’t?” he asked.
“No, sir. It was done by a group called Al Qaeda, a bunch of renegade Saudis hiding out in Afghanistan. I do have to ask that you not divulge that.”
He simply shook his head and sighed. “I’ll speak to Dick. He and I go way back. Was there anything else?”
I slowly nodded. “Yes, sir. It relates to what we were discussing before. As you are probably aware, Senator Reid and Congressman Boehner traveled to New York last night, to get a personal take on the rescue efforts and to make a report to the rest of the Congressional leadership. When I met with them last night, I told them that if it was necessary for me to be sworn in, I wanted there to be no question on it. It was too soon to even contemplate it. We discussed another meeting Friday morning, with the leadership and the full Cabinet, and taking a vote at that time.”
A look of pain came over the President’s face as I discussed, even in an oblique manner, the probable death of his eldest son. “How does this relate to what you would like to ask, Carl?”
I took a deep breath. “Sir, I have the utmost respect for you, and would never wish to cause you any harm or pain. However, if the Cabinet decides to vote to have me sworn in as the President, there will always be a lingering doubt as to the legitimacy of my Presidency. If you were to be standing at my side and holding the Bible I would be sworn in on, those doubts would be eliminated. This is something I ask, not for myself, but for the nation. Still, if you refuse, I’ll understand.”
The President didn’t say anything, but pain flashed across his features and tears welled up in his eyes. I kept my mouth shut. There was nothing I could add. After a minute he said, “Carl, I need to think about this. I should be getting up to see Laura and the girls.”
“Of course, sir. Please give them my regards. If there is anything that I can do or get done let me know.” I stood and waited while President Bush climbed to his feet. As we walked towards the door I said, “I am flying to New York tomorrow to see the damage. You are welcome to come with me.”
“No, I think that would be too soon.”
“Yes, sir.” At the door I turned the President over to Frank and found myself facing Scooter Libby. “Mr. Libby, what brings you here?”
Scooter was a bit more deferential this afternoon. “Mr. President, you said you wanted to begin calling back some of the various heads of state this afternoon.”
“Yes, I did. Thank you for the reminder. Come in. Do you have a list? What’s the procedure?” This was a first for me! How the hell do you dial up the Queen of England?! What, do you dial the Operator, and then when you get the switchboard, ask for her extension?! I took the list from Scooter and glanced down it, and then looked back at him. “You’d better have an interpreter on hand. Marilyn says I can’t even speak English, only Southern. I sure can’t speak some of these languages!”
I had told him the other day I would speak to the top ten countries, and the State Department could handle the rest. On the list — Russia, Israel, England, France, Germany, Canada, Mexico, Japan, China, and Saudi Arabia. I went over to my desk and sat down, and gestured for him to sit as well. I grabbed a pen and crossed off Saudi Arabia. “Screw the Saudis. They’re half the problem.” I thought for a second and jotted down, “India. I assume they called? What the hell time is it in some of these places?” India and Russia were somewhere on the other side of the world!
Scooter glanced at his watch and then said, “It’s 2:30 now. India is ten hours ahead of us, so that makes it after midnight…”
“That would be crazy!”
He continued with a nod, “… Moscow is plus nine, Israel is plus seven, and then we work down from there.”
“Okay, let’s start with Israel and work our way west. We’ll budget ten minutes each and hope for the best. Now, what do we want me to say?”
He blinked at that, and then we figured out a standard response. So far, everybody had been saying how sorry they were, they were offering assistance, they hoped for the President’s quick rescue, and looked forward to meeting me at my earliest convenience. The response: thank you, we appreciate the offers and the State Department will coordinate any international assistance, we are also hoping for President Bush’s rescue, and I look forward to meeting you. He had already told the White House bull pen to start warming up the interpreters.
In general, the calls went about as expected. The only thing out of the ordinary was in the first call, with Ariel Sharon. He offered some very valuable intelligence assistance and I promised to make sure the CIA cooperated and worked with them. Then I informed him that Wolfowitz was gone.