The recording confirmed Susan’s fear about Tremonov’s intentions. Based on the audio recordings, Susan learned that Tremonov planned to use the trade agreement with Belarus, Latvia, and the Ukraine as a springboard for the Soviet Union’s takeover of those countries. He saw it as reclaiming territory that the Soviet Union already owned. President Tremonov wanted to use the proposed trade agreements as a cover for moving Soviet troops closer to the borders with Europe.
Susan flipped her phone to the other end of the couch in frustration. All the progress she made to stop a war with the Soviet Union was lost. President Tremonov’s violation of the trade agreements would certainly be the next spark to start a world war. Susan laid down on the couch in defeat. She leaned her head against the armrest and hugged the pillow.
Susan heard her husband’s voice shouting in her head, Don’t even think about quitting! You survived a hell of a lot worse than this. You’ve been training your whole life for this. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Get off that couch, right now. He was right. This was her time to rise above; she had to, there was too much at stake. Susan wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath to regain her composure.
Susan walked into General LeMae’s suite. Senator Reynolds and General LeMae sat at the coffee table, flipping through satellite images.
“It looks like the convoys turned around. I had the Pentagon send me live drone images,” explained General LeMae.
Susan replied, “Good, I just got an email from General Gillingham saying the same thing. Can you send those images to me? I need to get them to Ambassador Dashkov. Pretty sure Tremonov isn’t going to take my word for it this time.”
“Yeah, no problem. We need to give Tremonov an excuse to come down from DEFCON 1. At that level, even he doesn’t have full control over the military. All it will take is one Soviet general with an itchy trigger finger and we’ll all be dead.”
Susan pulled up a chair next to the coffee table. She took off her suit jacket and laid it over the back of her chair.
“Getting the Soviets out of DEFCON 1 is the immediate problem. I have… ahh… kind of a confession to make,” said Susan.
General LeMae and Senator Reynolds both stopped moving and turned their heads toward Susan. Neither said a word; they just stared at her.
“Before you get upset, let me remind both of you that it all worked out fine.”
“Go on,” said Senator Reynolds.
Susan gave them both an executive summary of the recording from the bug she planted on President Tremonov.
Senator Reynolds leaned back in his chair. “Sooo that seems bad.”
Without verbally responding, General LeMae stood up and put both hands in his pants pockets. He stared at Susan for a moment before walking over to the desk. He reached into the drawer and came out with a cigarette and lighter. He lit the cigarette with a gold Zippo and cracked open the window.
General LeMae muttered as he took a drag from his cigarette, “Goddamn smoke detectors.”
Susan and Senator Reynolds were mesmerized by the show; it was like watching Clint Eastwood in real life. General LeMae took another drag, blew the smoke out the window, and turned back toward Susan.
Susan spoke up before General LeMae could start a lecture. “Listen, I know it was risky, but I had to know what he was thinking. I didn’t see another option.”
“Where’d you get the listening device?” asked General LeMae.
Susan slightly shrugged her shoulders. “A friend.”
General LeMae saw Senator Reynolds was getting ready to admonish Susan for being so brazen. He cut in before Senator Reynolds could say something he would regret. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter how you got it. It was worth the risk. If you didn’t find out what he was thinking, we would have walked right into World War III.” General LeMae paused, then asked, “So what’s your plan?”
Senator Reynolds keenly read the situation and held his tongue.
Susan raised her eyebrows. “I don’t have one.”
Senator Reynolds and General LeMae began trading ideas and pontificating on the pros and cons of collaborating with the Soviets.
Susan lost interest in the conversation and focused her attention on a painting of the world map on the wall. It was an older painting; the countries and borders represented the world as it looked before the First World War. She moved closer to get a better look and studied the Soviet Union’s borders, waterways, and natural trade routes. The map reminded her of playing Risk with her family at their cabin in Idaho.
Susan interrupted the conversation between Senator Reynolds and General LeMae. “We need to get the Chinese involved in the trade talks.”
They both gave her a skeptical look.
Susan explained further, “The Soviets aren’t going to take a trade deal seriously unless they feel their security is at risk, and the United States can’t do it alone. Yes, we’re a threat, but Tremonov doesn’t think the US or the United Nations will follow through on any threats we make.”
Senator Reynolds jumped in. “And for the Soviets, breaking a trade deal with the US and the Chinese could mean fighting a two-front war. And doing it with their trade routes cut off in the east and the west. Not such a pleasant thought.”
General LeMae nodded and crossed his arms. “Makes sense, except we’re not exactly friends with the Chinese.”
Susan held up her hand. “One problem at a time.”
“Well, I did go to boarding school with the Chinese finance minister,” said Senator Reynolds.
Susan and General LeMae exchanged looks of surprise.
General LeMae spoke up. “I still talk to a Chinese general who went to the War College with me.”
Susan nodded. “Good. Now we need a plan, a plan that benefits the Chinese.”
Senator Reynolds sighed. “And the Soviets… and the US… and Eastern Europe.”
Susan stopped the negativity. “Save the sarcasm. The real reason the Soviets want the Ukraine, Belarus, and Latvia is because they want to ship natural resources.”
General LeMae replied, “Sure, among other things, but that seems to be their main goal.”
Susan replied, “So let’s start there. The Soviets have two huge oil fields in the southeast, near the Chinese border. And right now, they ship that oil over twenty-two hundred miles west via rail to the Caspian Sea. What if they had a route to ship their oil south, directly to Beijing?”
Senator Reynolds interjected, “It would cut their transportation costs by at least fifty percent.”
“And they would have a chance to gain a powerful ally in the East,” said General LeMae.
“Exactly,” replied Susan.
“But I don’t see what’s in it for the Chinese?” said General LeMae.
“Two things. They’re going to get a cheaper and more reliable source of oil to fuel their economic growth, and we’re going to decrease their import tariffs to America,” replied Susan.
“What leverage are we holding over them?” asked General LeMae.
Susan replied, “That’s where it’s going to get dicey. We don’t have any.”
General LeMae took the last drag from his cigarette and added, “Tremonov is no fool. He won’t risk a war on two fronts. But there’s a chance he’ll back away completely.”
Senator Reynolds interjected, “I don’t think so. The Soviets are desperate—they’re on the brink of economic collapse. They’ve been playing it off for the last few years, but they’re desperate. That’s why they’re making such a strong play for the pipeline through Eastern Europe. If he backs away from this deal, he’s taking a big risk that the country could fall into chaos. If that happens, he’ll end up like Gaddafi, lynched in the streets.”
Susan replied, “I can’t force them to work out a deal. But if we can get the Chinese president to attend the Eastern European trade meeting tomorrow morning, I think they’ll both see the benefits of a trade agreement. I don’t know how, but I think it’ll work.”
General LeMae stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray and turned toward Senator Reynolds. “Let’s get to work. We’ve got some old friendships to rekindle.”
Mr. Anderson picked up the phone in his office. “Tom, how are you doing?”
General Gillingham spoke rapidly. “What the hell did you get me into? Why is the president accusing me of attempting to start World War III?”
“Slow down. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We had a deal. I get you government contracts for Pacific International and when I retire, Pacific International hires me as a consultant. I don’t know what you’re doing but I will not be the scapegoat.”
Mr. Anderson attempted to neutralize the situation. “Tom, you’re clearly upset. Why don’t we talk this over in person. I’ll be back in Washington later this week.”
General Gillingham snapped back, “Whatever you’ve got me involved in, I want out. This is not what I agreed to.” He hung up the phone.
Mr. Anderson slammed down the office phone. He grabbed his personal cell phone and dialed.
“Yes, sir.”
He quickly gave his orders. “You need to find General Gillingham. He’s somewhere in Washington, DC—try the Exchange Saloon on G Street. Keep an eye on him. I’ll be in touch with further instructions.”
“Got it, boss. I’m on it.”
47
Susan walked through the lobby of the hotel on her way to dinner. A Secret Service agent rushed toward her security detail with a briefcase. He reached into the briefcase and handed Susan a sealed plain manila folder marked Top Secret—For the President’s Eyes Only. She immediately ordered her security detail to take her back to her room. Susan needed to know what was in the top secret folder before any negotiations. The stakes were too high to make a careless mistake due to lack of information. She hoped the folder contained confirmation of the Soviets returning to the normal alert status of DEFCON 5.
As soon as the room to her door closed, she opened the envelope and stared at the cover document. The subject line was all she needed to see: “President Susan Turner Impeachment Proceedings—Summons to Testify.” She tossed the folder down on the coffee table and ran both hands through her hair. She had trouble believing her eyes. She picked up the document and read it again.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw a white flash card with the definition of “failure” playing in an infinite loop in her mind.
Failure
1. Lack of success
2. The omission of expected or required action.
Each time, the flash card was followed by a string of memories played as a highlight reel of failures throughout her life. They flowed in chronological order, and every time she closed her eyes it would pick up where it left off.
How could she let it get this far out of control? No president had ever been impeached; all the others had resigned before their impeachment trial. If the human race survived, her impeachment was going to be remembered in the history books as the trigger for World War III.
Susan physically shook herself out of her downward spiral. She wiped her sweaty hands on the couch and scanned the remaining documents in the folder. She was summoned to testify in Washington, DC, in fourteen hours. The documents also contained an itinerary. Air Force One was scheduled to depart in less than two hours back to Washington, DC.
Susan picked up the phone and called Vice President Wilkes’s office.
“Vice President Wilkes speaking.”
“This is President Turner, what’s going on? I just opened a court summons for my impeachment trial.”
“I don’t know any more than you, I got one as well,” replied Vice President Wilkes.
“Can you stall them? I’m in the middle of some important trade negotiations, I can’t just leave.”
“I’ll do what I can. How are the negotiations going?” asked Vice President Wilkes.
“Too early to say, but it looks promising, I think we’re finally going to make progress on a friendship with the Chinese.…” Susan heard an echo in the background. “Am I on speaker phone?”
Without missing a beat, Vice President Wilkes eased Susan’s concern with a chuckle. “I’m afraid you caught me slacking off, I was in the middle of practicing my putting game in the office. Now that I have some free time, there’s no excuse to let my golf game slip.”
Susan felt something wasn’t right but kept going. “Anyway, yeah, I’ve got a lot of things to get wrapped up here before I can make it back. See what you can do about getting my testimony pushed back.”
“I’ll do my best. Good luck—anything else I can help out with?” asked Vice President Wilkes.
“No, that’s it.” Susan hung up the phone.
Vice President Wilkes picked up the handset and put it back down to end the call.
Mr. Anderson stood up and put on his jacket and quietly walked out of Vice President Wilkes’s office. His work for the day was done.
Susan’s next call was to General LeMae. “I just got served a summons to testify in my own impeachment trial.”
“Me, too. I just got a summons to testify.”
Susan’s tone hardened. “I’m not abandoning these trade talks. We’re close to a peaceful resolution, I can feel it.”
“I know, but things stateside are getting worse and this impeachment trial isn’t going to help.”
“I just called Wilkes to see if he could help push back the hearing date. I got a weird vibe from the tone in his voice. Something isn’t right,” said Susan.
General LeMae snapped, “I don’t trust him.”
Susan sighed out of frustration. “If I go back and testify without having a peaceful relationship with the Soviets, they’re going to kick me out and we’re going to end up in World War III on a whim.”
“And if you don’t go back for the trial, they’re going to suspend your authority and put Vice President Wilkes in charge. God only knows what he’ll do… well, God probably doesn’t know, either,” replied General LeMae.
“I’m not going back until we get this deal made.”
General LeMae unconsciously breathed heavily into the phone while he ran through potential scenarios. “Just hold out as long as you can before leaving for Air Force One. I’ll talk to Senator Reynolds. We’ll keep working on getting the meeting set up for tomorrow morning. Got it?”
“Roger that. Curtis, please don’t do anything that’s going to get you in trouble.”
General LeMae hung up the phone without responding. He answered a knock on his door; his security detail briefed him on a change to their itinerary. They were heading back to Washington, wheels up on Air Force One in two hours. He quickly packed his bags.
General LeMae had already talked with his Chinese military friend from War College—the word was going up the Chinese military chain of command. His friend promised an update later in the evening.
An hour later, Senator Reynolds stepped onboard Air Force One. He was early and General LeMae was the only other person in the main cabin. Senator Reynolds talked through an exhaustive list of the problems their early departure would cause. He wasn’t yet aware of Susan’s impeachment trial. General LeMae calmly nodded his head in agreement and tuned out the frantic rambling from Senator Reynolds.
After a few minutes of ignoring Senator Reynolds’s complaints and theories about why their itinerary was changed, he looked down at his watch. Thirty-five minutes until wheels up. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out his portable humidor. Senator Reynolds kept talking. General LeMae opened the humidor and offered a cigar to Senator Reynolds.
“What are you doing? You can’t smoke on a plane.”
General LeMae ignored his comment and pulled out a silver Zippo lighter with the 1st Air Cavalry Division insignia and “OIF 2003–2007” engraved on the side. Senator Reynolds stared at him with a confused look on his face. Two puffs after getting his Montecristo properly lit, two dings rang from the Air Force One sound system.
Sen
ator Reynolds looked at General LeMae and rolled his eyes. “I told you.”
Over the loudspeaker, the pilot informed the passengers that there were mechanical complications in the safety check procedures. The part required for repairs wasn’t available on-site; they would have to wait for it to be flown in from Landstuhl Air Base in Germany. He apologized for the inconvenience and instructed the passengers to deplane.
General LeMae puffed on his cigar as he walked down the steps from Air Force One onto the tarmac. He saw Susan walking toward Air Force One surrounded by her security detail. She was hiding her concern behind a smile, they shook hands and she leaned closer.
She whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry. I held out as long as I could.”
General LeMae responded loudly, “I’m not sure what’s wrong but they just told us to deplane. I guess some kind of mechanical failure; they’re waiting on a part from Landstuhl. We aren’t taking off until tomorrow afternoon.”
An Air Force One crew member standing near General LeMae confirmed the information.
“Okay if we ride back to the hotel with you?” asked General LeMae.
Susan nodded. “Good idea.”
Susan, General LeMae, and Senator Reynolds climbed into the armored Mercedes limousine. As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Susan and Senator Reynolds stared at General LeMae, waiting for an explanation.
General LeMae shrugged his shoulders, cracked the window, and continued to puff on his cigar. “What can you do? Murphy’s Law.”
Frustrated with the lack of an answer, Senator Reynolds turned toward Susan, hoping for an explanation. His hope was met by indifferent silence. Susan’s phone rang, but she didn’t recognize the number. “This is President Turner.” Susan looked up toward the roof of the limousine and nodded her head. Then she smiled. “Good. I look forward to meeting you this evening.” Susan ended the call and continued her smile. “The Chinese president will be joining the Eastern European trade meeting. He wants to discuss strategy this evening.”
Selected: A Thriller Page 22
