“Mister President, thank you. Yes, I have talked to the Attorney General several times over the last few days. He was concerned over any possible misinterpretation of the 25th Amendment. We really don’t have a precedent for this, as I am sure he told you,” answered Rehnquist.
He took a seat near me, in effect my old seat as the Vice President. I sighed and nodded. “Yes, sir, he did. I told him that we were making it up as we go. Hopefully you can sit here and tell us what we are doing is legal. I’d really prefer not going to jail.”
There were several chuckles at this, but not many, until the Chief Justice smiled and answered, “You can always write yourself a pardon, sir.” I smiled at that, too, and he continued, “Seriously, though, what you are doing is going above and beyond my reading of the Amendment. On the other hand, the political reality is such that going above and beyond may be what is best for our nation right now. With that being said, I would suggest we turn the meeting over to Attorney General Ashcroft, much as I understand you did Tuesday afternoon.”
“Of course, sir.” I turned towards the Attorney General and said, “You’re on!”
John Ashcroft stood up and said, “Well, it is my intention to repeat the process we had on Tuesday. I am going to go down the list of all the Cabinet members and ask ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’ A Yes vote means that Carl Buckman is the President and a No means he stays as Acting President.” He grabbed his pen and a note pad and asked, “Secretary of State, yes or no?”
Dick Cheney turned beet red again, and he growled as he answered, but he said ‘Yes.’ I could see the looks and sighs of relief around the room. Ashcroft ignored the histrionics and continued down the list. It was unanimous. At that he turned to the Speaker of the House and said, “I’ve been talking to the Chief Justice as well. It’s not in the 25th Amendment, and it is not required, but we both think it would help immensely if I asked you gentlemen the same thing. Mister Speaker, yes or no?”
We had the Speaker of the House, along with the Majority and Minority Leaders and Whips of both the House and Senate in the room, all except John and Harry, who were flying home. He went down the list and it was unanimous. Denny added at the end that both John Boehner and Harry Reid had told him they were voting Yes as well.
“How do you want to do this, Mister President?” asked the Chief Justice.
Denny Hastert interrupted and said, “Excuse me, Mister President, but is it still your desire to do this on television tonight, like we talked about yesterday?”
I nodded. “Like I said, I know it’s not an inauguration but I think the country is going to want to see this. It’s up to you fellows, though. The Capitol is your building.”
“Well, we’ll do it like a State of the Union Address. We’ll have everyone there, let John here run the thing, swear you in, and you make a quick speech. Who is going to be the missing man?”
“That will be me!” growled Cheney forcefully. At all State of the Union speeches there is always a ‘missing man’, a member of the Cabinet who can become the President if somebody manages to nuke the Capitol. “I’ll be damned if I want to watch this crap!”
Denny Hastert wasn’t going to be put off by Cheney. “Fine by me, but if you’re not going to be there, you’ll write out your acceptance right here and now. John, give him a sheet of paper!”
Cheney’s nostrils flared at that, but he was under the stare of everybody. Ashcroft silently pushed a sheet of stationery across to him. Cheney scrawled something on it and then stood up and stormed out of the room. It was rude as hell, but I wasn’t going to make an issue of it and I was glad to see his back. One of my first jobs would be to replace Cheney.
Denny took the paper and folded it up and stuck it in a jacket pocket. “Okay, I will see you all this evening at eight o’clock. Mister President, get Ari Fleischer to get the wheels in motion. Otherwise, we are going to get out of here and let you get to work.”
“I agree.” I stood up. “Everybody, I will see you all this evening. Thank you.”
Getting back to work involved getting Ari Fleisher to crank up the system for this evening, calling Marilyn and informing her of what was going to happen, and calling Camp David and talking to the first President Bush.
That was an instructive call. He told me that Harry Reid and John Boehner had called him last night after talking to the Congressional leadership, so that he wasn’t blindsided when the inevitable reports came out. The President offered to come to Washington for the ceremony, but that for Barbara, Laura, and the girls, it would be too much, too soon. I promised that I wouldn’t move into the Executive Mansion until they were ready and had moved out. Dignity of the office or not, that would be more than a little tacky! He promised to sit down with me and talk, commenting that he had done the same with Bill Clinton and George W. Then he asked an interesting question. “Have you talked to your son yet? Where is he stationed?”
“He’s at Camp Lejeune. Why?” I answered.
“Get him to the Capitol tonight. This is all about theater. Get him there in a uniform, sitting with his mother and sisters.”
“Huh. I had planned on letting him alone. I didn’t want to prejudice things…”
“Carl, that is ridiculously naïve! You aren’t a Congressman anymore. You are the President of the United States! The guys over in the Pentagon are not going to let him just slide by. If you want him to have any sort of normal life, you are going to have to take that bull by the horns and have it out with them. Now, after we hang up, you need to get your Naval Adviser to get the boy on a plane!”
I chuckled. “Yes, sir. Pardon me for saying it, sir, but you still sound like a President.”
“You bet, Carl! You bet!”
“Very good, sir. I will obey that order. Please tell your family that they are in Marilyn’s and my prayers, and that we hope to see them again in the future.”
“Thank you, Carl, and good luck to you and your family, as well.”
After I hung up, I called Josh Bolten and told him what President Bush had told me. “So, how do we get Charlie up here?” I asked.
“We get Mike Miller in here, that’s how.”
I felt like an idiot, but I had been cut out of so much the last few months, and there were so many people working at the place. “Okay, so who’s Mike Miller?”
“He runs the White House Military Office. If he can’t do it, he’ll know who can.”
“Well, stop talking to me and call him. Bring him on in when you find him. Thank you.” I hung up and started making some notes about what I wanted to say tonight. I didn’t want to talk for a long time, and it wasn’t the place for anything legislative, like a State of the Union Address. I needed something uplifting and patriotic, something that would let people know we still had a functioning government and one that would keep them alive. I put out a call for Matt Scully and Mike Gerson to stop by.
Before they could come in, Josh returned with a Navy Captain, an O-6, which was much higher up the food chain than the O-3 Army Captain I had been. “Mister President, this is Captain Miller. He should be able to help you,” said Josh.
I stood and went around my desk to greet Captain Miller. I had probably seen him in passing, but couldn’t swear that we had actually spoken. “Captain, I have a small problem, and maybe you can help, or at least point me in the right direction.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever I can do.”
“This is in the nature of a personal emergency. My son is a Marine Lance Corporal at Camp Lejeune. I haven’t had a chance to even call him about this, and I don’t even know what he is doing, but I need him here in Washington tonight.”