by Don Bendell
The vice president said, “Thank you so much for coming, Senator Weatherford. The president needs your immediate consultation and assistance. He is waiting for you with others at Camp David, if you would be so kind.”
James asked, “What’s going on?”
The vice president said, “I can only tell you this will be an historical meeting regarding our national security. The president appreciates your assistance.”
Weatherford threw his shoulders back, saying, “Of course. It is my honor to join the president.”
The vice president shook hands, saying, “Thank you so much. The helicopter is waiting for you.”
Senator Weatherford ate up the attention as he headed toward the aircraft, but hardly waved at any of the well-wishers. He was feeling too self-important. Besides, he decided, it would be more dramatic to jog up the few steps to the front door and turn on the top step and wave. Unlike the president, he did not return the salute of the marine guard at the base of the steps. Instead, he brushed past him, a legend in his own mind.
Camp David serves the president, providing the First Family and their guests with a healthy, safe, and uniquely private place to work or relax. Established as “Shangri-la” by president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, it was subsequently renamed Camp David by Dwight Eisenhower after his grandson.
During times of conflict, war, strife, and acute stress ever since World War II up to more recent events, Camp David has offered the president solitude, peace, and tranquility. A majority of presidents have used Camp David to host visiting foreign leaders, with Prime Minister Winston Churchill of Great Britain being the very first, during May 1943.
Catoctin Mountain Park was originally considered kind of useless land purchased by the U.S. government in 1936, to be developed into a recreational facility. The purpose of the land was to demonstrate how rough terrain and eroded soil could be turned into productive land.
But under the New Deal program of president Franklin D. Roosevelt, the WPA began the work in the brand-new Catoctin Recreational Demonstration Area. They were joined by the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC, in 1939.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt was accustomed to seeking relief from hot Washington summers and relaxing on weekends aboard the presidential yacht the Potomac or simply staying at his home in Hyde Park, New York. In 1942, the Secret Service became concerned about the president’s use of the Potomac, because World War II had brought in the possibility of attack by German U-boats. The muggy climate of the Washington area was considered detrimental to FDR’s health, significantly affecting his sinuses. A brand-new retreat within a 100-mile distance of the capital with cool mountain air was sought.
Several sites were considered but Camp Hi-Catoctin in the Catoctin Recreational Demonstration Area was selected after the president’s first visit in 1942. So Camp David was already built on the site and the estimated conversion cost was under $20,000. It was also usually ten degrees cooler than Washington. Roosevelt quickly renamed the camp Shangri-la, after James Hilton’s 1933 novel, Lost Horizon.
Camp David continues to serve as the primary presidential retreat today. It is a private, secluded place for a president’s recreation, contemplation, rest, and relaxation, and has been used for many important meetings with many world and political leaders. In fact, very many historical events have occurred at the presidential retreat, including the planning of the Normandy invasion, the Eisenhower-Khrushchev meetings, the Carter Israeli-Palestine peace meetings and subsequent signing of the Camp David accords, discussions of the Bay of Pigs invasion, Vietnam War discussions, and many other meetings with foreign dignitaries and guests. Maintaining the continued privacy and the very secluded atmosphere of the 125-acre retreat is an important role for Catoctin Mountain Park. The presidential retreat still remains within park boundaries but is never open to the public. It is a place where presidents can relax, unwind, or entertain distinguished guests in a very informal setting. On top of that, Camp David has, on numerous accounts, acted as a means of safety and security for the president.
Today it would host a very historic meeting.
Landing in well less than an hour, the senator had an even bigger ego stroke, as he was escorted into the main lodge and was taken to the conference room. The president was seated there, jacket off, tie off, and sleeves rolled up, as well as Gen. Jonathan Perry, the U.S. Army chief of staff, the secretary of defense, the secretary of homeland security, the director of the Secret Service, the national intelligence advisor, and several more notables. All had removed their jackets and were drinking pop, iced tea, water, and a couple had beers.
He shook hands with all and was warmly greeted by the president, who bade him to take a seat right next to his.
The president turned to a large-screen laptop on the conference table.
He said, “Senator Weatherford, I am so damned computer illiterate. Can you show me how to start this video on here?”
Weatherford confidently said, “Sure, Mr. President, let me look at it.”
He stuck his head over next to the president and looked at the computer screen. On it was a video box with the words “Classified Top Secret” on it. Only he and Perry, on the other side of the president, could see it, but all others in the room could hear it.
He used the finger mouse to move the cursor down on the play button on the left side of the video control below the video screen. He left-clicked and looked at the screen, expecting to see a covert tape of al Qaeda leaders being discovered.
The men in the room chuckled hearing the sounds of grunts and groans and orgasmic moans, as he looked at a video of him and Veronica and Suzette engaged in a sexual threesome. His jaw dropped and tears filled his eyes.
The president said, “You know, James, you really ought to get some tanning on that lily-white ass. Oh and when you roll over. Well, I don’t think we can help you out there. Sometimes Mother Nature just plays mean tricks and short-changes us.”
The men in the room all chuckled, except General Perry. He was grim-faced and angry.
James Weatherford, for the first time in his life, was at a total loss for words.
The president said, “That’s nothing, James. Look at this video, but I am not going to play the audio because the room has not been cleared yet by the Secret Service.”
Lying effectively to cover for the lack of audio they had from their surveillance, the president’s bluff was perfect. To Weatherford, the pictures they had of him meeting in Paris with Muhammad Yahyaa and Nguyen Van Tran were top-quality video.
Then the president, still bluffing on the audio, said, “Hell, that’s nothing, Jimbo, my man. Look at this video taken not long ago, here in Washington in a restaurant. Again, I have not had the room swept yet, so I’m keeping the audio off, but I can play it for you privately in my office. Do you need to hear it?”
Weatherford began sobbing like a baby and shook his head.
Speaking for the first time, he said, “I am ruined. I am ruined. I am ruined. How could you do this to me?”
The president, now no longer jovial, said, “You did it to yourself, you self-serving, treasonous, murderous son of a bitch, and I just happen to be a son of a bitch myself when it comes to hardcore national politics. Did you think I became president because I am stupid?”
Weatherford, tears dropping from his cheeks, looked around the room at all the cold stares.
He said, “I’m going to kill myself.”
General Perry said, “I have a big gun collection, you traitorous bastard. You want to borrow one?”
The president looked at Perry and silently laughed, shaking his head in wonderment.
“By the way, you know Lieutenant Colonel Bobby and Major Bo Samuels?” the president asked. “You must know them, you have had hit men trying to kill them like the hit you put out on an outstanding patriot Command Sergeant Major-retired Boom Kittenger. Guess what? Your hit men all failed and ended up dead. And they had your two army contact flunkies arrested by CID agents, and both o
f them are singing like canaries.”
The president went on, “We could give you your Miranda rights, and allow you to have your attorney present, but I assume you want to cooperate fully and not worry about all that silly stuff. Am I correct?”
Still bawling, between sobs, Weatherford said softly, “Yes, Mr. President.”
The chief executive said, “Well, we will get into great detail later, but for the next hour, you will tell us what you know about the proposed attack on our west coast, where Muhammad Yahyaa went after he bugged out of Koh Samui, Thailand, the other day, and where we might expect to meet Nguyen Van Tran.”
Sympathy did not work at all, so now Weatherford got angry, mainly at himself for acting like such a wimp.
He looked up, chin out defiantly, and demanded, “Mr. President, I am not saying anything else. I do want my attorney present.”
The president looked at him and laughed.
Then he said, “Still think you are in the political game? Do you think we are in front of the news media you have played like a cheap fiddle for years?”
“No, I know my rights,” Weatherford said with more courage now.
The president said, “Jon, do you still carry that nickel-plated Colt army model 1911 .45 automatic in your briefcase?”
General Perry said, “Yes, I do, Mr. President.”
The chief executive went on, “Wasn’t Boom Kittenger a very close friend of yours?”
Perry said, “Yes, sir.”
The commander in chief said, “I want you to take that .45 out and unload the magazine into this traitor’s body, starting with his joints. If you are charged with murder or any crimes, I will immediately give you a presidential pardon.”
Perry said, “I will be glad to shoot this son of a bitch, sir,” as he rose and walked to his briefcase.
Weatherford’s eyes opened wide, and he put his hands up.
“Okay! Okay!” he said, voice quavering. “I will cooperate fully. Please?”
Perry looked at the president, who nodded, and Perry sat down.
The other men in the room gave the president winks, nods of approval, or shook their heads grinning.
13
BACK TO MANILA
Bobby and Bo got the call on their sat phone personally from General Perry. In the scrambled transmission, General Perry described the discussion the president had with Weatherford, and Bobby told Bo after hanging up. They high-fived and hugged each other.
Bobby grabbed his pants that were sitting on the chair and folded them, putting them in the suitcase.
“Saddle up, baby,” he said. “We’re going somewhere.”
They packed quickly and Bobby called the commander of the aircraft carrier and asked for the helicopter to take them to where they could get a U.S. Air Force jet or U.S. Navy plane to wherever they had to go.
Bobby and Bo were in the big Seahawk naval helicopter on their way to the Nimitz-type supercarrier when he was called by the secretary of defense personally and told that Muhammad Yahyaa flew from Singapore to Manila, and the CIA who had been watching the Pearls 2 Bamboo headquarters building since Bobby and Bo had been there, reported that Yahyaa had been there most of the time for the past day. As soon as they arrived in the carrier, Bobby told the commander that they had to get to Manila as quickly as possible.
The navy captain who commanded the aircraft carrier smiled at Bobby and Bo, saying, “Colonel Samuels, how would you like it if I could get you to Manila, or actually to Manila in well under three hours?”
Bobby said, “Captain, if my wife wouldn’t mind, I would give you a big, wet, sloppy kiss.”
The captain laughed. “I knew you used to be a Green Beret and should have known better than to ask. I can’t help you now.”
Playing right along, Bo slapped Bobby on the arm, saying, “See, I told you, in the military it is don’t ask, don’t tell.”
All three of them laughed heartily, then the captain said, “Seriously, our Lockheed S-3 Viking can do the job easily. It has a max speed of five hundred seventy-four miles per hour and a cruising speed over four hundred miles per hour. We have several variations, and it used to be used for submarine hunting, but the al Qaeda don’t have too many of them. Most have been converted for other uses, and they used to take a crew of four, but now we have a crew of two, and can fit you both and your luggage.”
Bobby said, “Sir, thank you very much for your help. We need to boogie ASAP.”
The captain had already nodded at a chief petty officer when he started talking, and he said, “We already have them getting a fast mover and crew ready to go. God speed to both of you.”
The U.S. Navy says this in part about the Lockheed S-3 Viking:
The Lockheed S-3 Viking is a jet aircraft originally used by the United States Navy to identify, track, and destroy enemy submarines. In the late 1990s, the S-3B’s mission focus shifted to surface warfare and aerial refueling. After the retirement of the A-6 Intruder and A-7 Corsair II, the Viking was the only airborne refueling platform organic to the Carrier Air Wing(s) until the fielding of the F/A-18 E/F Super Hornet. It also provides electronic warfare and surface surveillance capabilities to the carrier battle group. A carrier-based, subsonic, all-weather, multi-mission aircraft with long range, it operates primarily with carrier battle groups in anti-submarine warfare roles. It carries automated weapon systems, and is capable of extended missions with in-flight refueling. Because of the engines’ high-pitched sound, it is nicknamed the “Hoover” after the brand of vacuum cleaner.
The S-3 Viking was designed by Lockheed with the assistance from Ling-Temco-Vought and UNIVAC to fit the United States Navy VSX (Heavier-than-air, Anti-submarine, Experimental) requirement for a replacement for the piston-engined Grumman S-2 Tracker. Since Lockheed had no experience in building carrier-based aircraft, LTV was responsible for construction of the folding wings and tail, the engine nacelles, and the landing gear which was derived from A-7 Corsair II (nose) and F-8 Crusader (main). UNIVAC built the on-board computers which integrated input from sensors and sonobuoys. The first prototype flew on January 21, 1972, and the S-3 entered service in 1974. During the production run from 1974 to 1978, a total of 186 S-3As were built.
The S-3 is a conventional monoplane with a high-mounted cantilever wing, swept 15°. The two GE TF-34 high-bypass turbofan engines mounted in nacelles under the wings provide execptional criuse efficiency compared to turbojets or earlier turbofans. The aircraft can seat four crew members with the pilot and the copilot /tactical coordinator (COTAC) in the front of the cockpit and the tactical coordinator (TACCO) and sensor operator (SENSO) in the back. . . . All crew members sit on upward-firing Douglas Escapac zero-zero ejection seats. At the end of the 1990s the sonar operators were removed from the crew. In the tanking crew configuration, the S-3B typically flies with only a crew of two (pilot and COTAC). The wing is fitted with leading edge and Fowler flaps. Spoilers are fitted to both the upper and the lower surfaces of the wings. All control surfaces are actuated by dual hydraulically boosted irreversible systems.
The aircraft has two underwing hardpoints that can be used to carry fuel tanks, general purpose and cluster bombs, missiles, rockets, and storage pods. It also has four internal bomb bay stations that can be used to carry general purpose bombs, torpedoes, and special stores (B57 and B61). Fifty-nine sonobuoy chutes are fitted, as well as a dedicated Search and Rescue (SAR) chute. The S-3 is fitted with the ALE-39 countermeasure system and can carry up to ninety rounds of chaff, flares, and expendable jammers (or a combination of all) in three dispensers. A retractable magnetic anomaly detector (MAD) boom is fitted in the tail.
Bobby and Bo arrived at the Manila airport and immediately took a cab to a high-rise hotel that was just a stone’s throw away from Pearls 2 Bamboo corporate headquarters. They asked for a room facing the main street, so they could set up surveillance on the building. Bobby called in their location and said they also needed to know where Nguyen Van Tran was.
An hou
r later, there was a knock on their door. Two men stood in front of Bobby, who held a towel in his hand and said, “Yes?”
Both men were black and wore light weight tropical shirts and slacks. Both were nice-looking men and well built.
One said, “Sir, my name is Joe Oliver and my partner here is Rod Moss. I know you are holding a gun on us under the towel, and I don’t blame you. Please ask your wife to call General Perry on his cell, and ask him to give you a password for me to say?”
Behind the door with a gun in her hand, Bo walked over to the sat phone and called Perry.
Bo said, “General?”
He didn’t even wait for her to ask but said, “Bo, are they both African American, good-looking guys?”
“Yes, sir,” she responded.
He said, “Ask them what did Satan say to Saddam Hussein on his way to hell, and they should answer ‘How’s it hanging?’ Sorry, but we had to hurry.”
Bo bid good-bye and hung up, chuckling, and walked up behind Bobby, saying, “What did Satan say to Saddam Hussein on his way to hell?”
Joe grinned and replied, “How’s it hanging, Saddam?”
Bobby and Bo both laughed, and Bobby tossed the towel aside and stuck his Glock into the back of his waistband. Then he put his hand out to shake.
“Hi, Bobby Samuels,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Joe. Rod. This is my wife, Bo.”
She shook with both men and invited them into the suite, and they all took seats.
Joe said, “We’re with the Central Intelligence Agency, but are on loan to the Department of Homeland Security. We came to help both of you maintain surveillance and just got the suite next to yours. We will relieve you so you don’t have to do twelve-hour shifts.”
Bobby said, “God bless you. Do you guys know what he looks like?”
Rod said, “Affirmative. We have photos and have looked at video.”
“How about Nguyen Van Tran?” Bo asked.
