Mounting Fears wl-7

by Stuart Woods

  Will picked up the phone and asked for Tim Coleman, his chief of staff.

  “Yessir?”

  “Tim, George Kiel is undergoing surgery for prostate cancer today and is out of the campaign. Ask Kitty to coordinate with his press secretary about an announcement.”

  “Sir, you might consider announcing it at the convention.”

  “Maybe. You get together with Kitty, Tom Black, and our leadership in the Congress and come up with some names. We all know who they’re going to be, but it’s important to consult.”

  “Do you have a top candidate in mind?” Tim asked.

  “I’d appoint Sam Meriwether in a heartbeat, but we can’t have both members of the ticket from one county.” Sam Meriwether had been Will’s own congressman before he had won Will’s Senate seat in a special election. He had acted as Will’s campaign manager when he first ran and was this time, as well.

  “Yeah, well…” Tim said. “We’ll get on this right away.”

  “I’m going to need some names before I get on that helicopter,” Will said.

  “I wish George had given us more notice.”

  “He didn’t know himself, and, after all, he did tell me he would be around for only the first term.” Will looked down and saw a light flashing on his phone. “I’ve gotta go.” He pressed the button.

  “Mr. President,” the operator said, “I have President Khan of Pakistan for you.”

  “Good. Find everybody who was meeting in the Situation Room and get them back here, please.” He pressed the relevant button. “President Khan?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. I can give you some information now.”

  “Please, go ahead.” He looked up to see Kate and Lance Cabot enter the room. “If you agree, I will put you on speaker, so that my people may hear you.”

  “Yes, please do.”

  The military people were entering the room as Will pressed the speaker button. “Please go ahead, Mr. President,” he said.

  “We estimate a detachment of forty to fifty in the initial assault,” Khan said, “and they appear to be bringing in more people and fortifying the site now. There have been fatalities outside the building, but we have no knowledge of what happened inside. We suspect that the Taliban may have kidnapped two technicians earlier, so they may have launch capabilities.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. President,” Will said, “but doesn’t launching require codes?”

  “Yes. In theory, only I can give the order, but the officer carrying the codes disappeared this morning, and we cannot locate him. We suspect that he may either have been taken by the Taliban or Al Qaeda or be in collusion with them.”

  “Please go on, Mr. President.”

  “I have given the order for an attack,” Khan said, “and assault troops from a nearby base are moving into position as we speak.”

  “Mr. President, do you have shelter available that will withstand a nuclear attack?”

  “I am leaving momentarily for my bunker,” Khan replied.

  “Good. Can you tell us which of the silos contain the nuclear warheads?”

  “I will instruct my military staff to communicate with yours on that subject,” Khan replied. “Now if you will excuse me, I must go.”

  “Good-bye, Mr. President, and good luck,” Will said, but Khan had already hung up. He replaced the receiver and looked around the table. “Who has an update?”

  General Boone spoke. “I have been in touch with the Pakistani military headquarters but was unable to speak with the commanding general. I got a feeling that the place was chaotic.”

  Kate spoke. “Our people on the ground suspect that at least some of the military command may have defected or revolted. A coup may be imminent.”

  “A coup in whose favor?” Will asked.

  “We don’t know,” Kate said, “but Khan, of course, is a figure of hatred for fundamentalist Muslims. If he’s replaced, it’s not going to be with somebody we like.”

  Will turned to Boone. “General, how quickly could we attack the installation if the order were given now?”

  “Given the logistics, not before midnight,” Boone said, “but I’ve already placed the relevant units on alert and ordered the aircraft armed.”

  “Can you begin moving the SEALs closer to the installation?”

  “They’re less than an hour away by helicopter, so they’re better off waiting where they are.”

  “Madame Director, please get in touch with Israeli intelligence. I don’t know if they’re aware of this situation yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t want them jumping into this. Let them know that they’re under no immediate threat. Also, please brief the secretary of state and ask him to call his counterpart in India and tell them what’s happened. It’s possible that Delhi might be a target for these missiles.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.” She got up and left the room.

  “General Boone,” Will said, “what can we do that we haven’t already done?”

  “Militarily, nothing, Mr. President. Politically, well that’s up to you.”

  “Lance, do we have any indication that anyone else knows about this yet?”

  “No, Mr. President, but the lid won’t be on it long, so I suggest we operate as if everybody knows.”

  “I’m not ready to announce this,” Will said.

  “No, sir, and you shouldn’t, but you should be ready to respond to a leak immediately.”

  Will stood up. “All right, I’ll leave you to your work, but I want to be notified of any change, good or bad, in the situation.”

  “Mr. President,” General Boone said, “for the moment, it’s pretty much out of our hands, but we’ll do everything we can to be ready to move.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Will said. He left the Situation Room for the Oval Office.

  4

  Will walked into the Oval Office to find Tim Coleman, Kitty Conroy, his campaign manager Sam Meriwether, his political consultant Tom Black, and the majority leader of the House and the minority leader of the Senate waiting for him. They all rose as he entered.

  “Mr. President,” Tim said, “is there something going on that we should know about?”

  “You’ll be briefed in a few minutes,” Will said. “Now, have a seat and tell me whose names are on your list.”

  Tim began to read. “Senator Charles Watts of Idaho.”

  Will shook his head. “No-Idaho has a Republican governor, and we can’t afford to give up the Senate seat.”

  “Congressman Tad Giddens of Nebraska.”

  “A good man, but green and a little impulsive. I need a grayer head.”

  “Governor Martin Stanton of California.”

  Will said nothing for a moment. “Good one. Who else?”

  “Governor Bobby Breen of Texas.”

  “Two southerners on the ticket isn’t good.”

  “Governor Eleanor Thomas of Oregon.”

  “A woman on the ticket would be a good thing, I think, but only if we believe she could credibly run for president after four years. What do you all think?”

  Kitty Conroy spoke up. “She has a husband who runs his own large manufacturing business, and he isn’t likely to come to Washington with her, which would be a problem for both of them. She has two teenaged children, too, and the girl could be a problem for us. She was arrested on a juvenile drug charge last year. She seems to be improving, but…”

  “Who else?”

  “Governor Elliot Sparks of Colorado.”

  “Twice divorced, and a reputation as a womanizer,” Will said. “He’d be a time bomb. Anyone else?”

  “That’s all so far,” Tim said.

  “Marty Stanton is an appealing guy,” Will said, “and he’s finishing his second term as governor. He has an attractive family, grown children, and I think he’d be a serious candidate for president, if I weren’t running, and he has a Mexican mother.”

  “I like him for the job,” Sam said.

  “So do I,” Kitty chipped in.


  The others made positive noises.

  “Any women other than Betty in his life?”

  Tom Black spoke up. “There were rumors about a woman in Los Angeles, before he was governor, but they both denied everything, and nobody had any real evidence. If there’s been anybody since, Stanton has been very, very careful.”

  Will walked to his desk and picked up the phone. “Please find Governor Martin Stanton of California,” he said into the phone, then hung up and looked around. “Last chance to bring up someone else,” he said.

  Nobody spoke. The phone rang, and Will picked it up.

  “Hello? How are you, Marty?… I’m glad to hear it. Marty, I’m with Sam Meriwether, Tim Coleman, Kitty Conroy, Tom Black, Congressman Dan Tweed, and Senator Mike Hubbard. I’d like to put you on speaker so everyone can hear you. Here we go.” Will pressed the button. “Can you hear me, Marty?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Marty, George Kiel has entered Walter Reed for prostate cancer surgery. The prognosis is unclear, and he’s opted out of the race. All of us here think you’d make a great vice president, and a fine candidate for president in four years, and I’d be deeply honored if you’d accept George’s place on the ticket.”

  Silence.

  “You there, Marty?”

  “Yes, but I’m stunned.”

  “I understand. Would you like to call me back?”

  “May I put you on hold for a moment, Mr. President?”

  “Certainly.”

  There was a click on the line.

  “He’s probably talking with Betty,” Will said.

  “It’s going to be a short conversation,” said Kitty.

  Stanton came back on the line. “Mr. President?”

  “I’m here, Marty. We all are.”

  “I’m very grateful for the opportunity, and I am delighted to accept.”

  “That’s wonderful, Marty. Where are you now?”

  “On my airplane, about two hours out of New York.”

  “Can we meet at the Waldorf Towers”-Will glanced at his watch-“at six o’clock?”

  “Of course, Mr. President.”

  “And you’d better start drafting an acceptance speech. See you at six.” Will hung up. “Well,” he said, “that was easy. Tim, you’d better call the FBI and get them started on the background check. Tell them I want at least a preliminary report fast.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tim started to leave but ran into Lance Cabot, who was on his way in.

  “Stay, Tim,” Will said. “Lance, anything new?”

  “We’ve got the second wave of the attack on satellite now,” Lance said. “They’re going to be dug in by the time the Pakistani army arrives.”

  “Lance, will you brief everybody here on the situation, please?” Will asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Lance had finished, leaving his audience nearly speechless.

  “How do you want to handle the announcement?” Kitty asked.

  “Write it, but keep it close. I’d like to wait until after the Pakistani army has finished its raid, unless we’re forced to go sooner.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who are we going to get to nominate Marty Stanton tonight?” Will asked.

  “The speaker of the House is running the convention, and he’s from California,” Tim said.

  Will nodded and picked up the phone. “Get me the speaker of the House,” he said. “I believe he’s at the Waldorf Towers.” He waited the ten seconds it took for the White House operator to find the man.

  “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “Tank, George Kiel is in surgery and won’t be running. I’ve asked Marty Stanton to replace him.”

  The speaker gave out a low whistle. “I’m sorry about George, but Marty is wonderful news.”

  “I agree, and I don’t want you running for governor; I need you where you are.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’d like you to place his name in nomination before my speech and get a vote by acclamation from the convention.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  “My speech is televised at nine, so get it done by seven-thirty, then give Marty a few minutes for an acceptance speech. He can introduce me.”

  “Sounds good, Mr. President.”

  “I’m meeting with Marty at six at the Towers, and if you’re available, I’d like you to be there.”

  “Of course, Mr. President.”

  “See you then, and keep all this under your hat until tonight.” Will hung up and looked at the group. “Any loose ends?”

  “Mr. President,” Lance Cabot said, “I think you might describe Pakistan as a loose end.”

  “I can’t do any more about that now. Is the helicopter ready, Tim? Everybody’s luggage aboard?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Then let’s go to New York.”

  5

  Will didn’t bother with Air Force One; the helicopter would get him to New York just as fast, and it would land on top of the old Pan Am building, very near the Waldorf.

  Halfway to New York, the copilot’s voice came over the intercom system to Will’s headset. “Phone call for you, Mr. President. The speaker of the House, Mr. Wainwright.”

  Will picked up the phone. “Tank?”

  “Mr. President, I’m getting a lot of press questions about some sort of trouble in Pakistan.”

  “If you don’t hear from the Joint Chiefs, I’ll tell you about that at our six-o’clock meeting,” Will said.

  “Is anybody making an announcement about George?”

  “I assume his press secretary will handle that.”

  “I’ve had a couple of calls about that, too, from the press.”

  “Refer them to the office of the vice president,” Will said. “Anything else?”

  “Are you going to mention this Pakistan thing in your speech?”

  “I’ll know more about that at six o’clock,” Will said. “See you then, Tank.” He took off the headset. “Kitty, give George’s press secretary a call and see how they want to handle the announcement of his surgery. Also, ask her what time I can call the hospital and get an answer on the results and speak to Nancy Kiel.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kitty said, taking the phone from Will.

  Will sat and watched Philadelphia and New Jersey pass under them. Half an hour later they set down gently on top of the office building. They took an elevator down to the street, where a motorcade awaited, then drove to the Waldorf on the traffic-cleared streets. Will hated driving in New York because of the inconvenience it caused so many people, but at least this was a short trip. They arrived at the garage entrance to the Waldorf and were whisked up to the Towers, to the Presidential Suite. By the time Will had opened a bottle of water, his valet was already unpacking his and Kate’s clothes and sending them to be pressed.

  Will opened his briefcase and began reading the morning traffic, as his mail was called.

  ***

  At precisely six o’clock, Governor Martin Stanton of California arrived, followed closely by the speaker of the House, William Wainwright, known as “Tank” because of his considerable bulk.

  Tim shook their hands and offered them seats and coffee. “Marty, I’m delighted you’ll be on the ticket, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more notice, but George told me only this morning.”

  “I understand, Mr. President, and I’m delighted to be on the ticket.”

  “Tank, has anybody briefed you on the Pakistani incident?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, an aide from the Joint Chiefs came over. Marty was there, too, so we’re up to date. I gather we’re still waiting for the results of the army raid on the missile site.”

  “That’s right,” Will said. “We’ve got Navy SEALs and the Air Force on standby, in case they’re needed.”

  “I hope to God the Pakistani army is successful.”

  “So do I, Tank. Marty, do you have a draft of your acceptance speech
?”

  “Yes, sir,” Stanton said, handing over a copy. Will handed it to Kitty. “Tank, what’s the schedule for the convention?”

  “The platform is being adopted now-it’s a final vote, so the debate is over. I’ll make the announcement about George at seven and introduce Marty for his acceptance speech, then he’ll introduce you at exactly eight-oh-one p.m. That’ll give the networks a minute for their commentators to appear wise.”

  Kitty answered a ringing phone. “It’s Walter Reed, Mr. President.”

  Will picked up a phone. “This is Will Lee.”

  “Mr. President, this is Dr. Brad Hardy. I am the vice president’s surgeon.”

  “Good evening, Dr. Hardy. How is the vice president?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid. His condition was even worse than we had suspected, and there’s a chance he won’t survive. He’s in the ICU now, and we’ll know more in a few hours, tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for letting me know. Is there anything I can do for him or you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then good evening.” Will hung up. “Kitty, find Nancy Kiel for me, please. She’ll be at Walter Reed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kitty got on the phone. “Mr. President, I have Mrs. Kiel.”

  Will picked up the phone. “Nancy?”

  “Hello, Will.”

  “I’ve just spoken to the surgeon.”

  “I know. It doesn’t look good, I’m afraid.”

  “Nancy, how did he get this far along before the surgery?”

  “He wouldn’t do it, Will, and I couldn’t make him, and his doctors couldn’t, either. He wanted to finish out his term first. If only he’d done this last summer… but he just wouldn’t.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you or George?”

  “No, I think everything that can be done has been done. When will the announcement be made?”

  “Tank Wainwright will announce it to the convention at seven o’clock and introduce Martin Stanton, who’s replacing George on the ticket. I know this seems rushed, but we don’t really have a choice.”

  “I agree. That’s the way to do it.”