by Stuart Woods
Will quickly read the notes and handed them back. “Right, I’ll do that.”
“Don’t stop for more than a couple of seconds, say your piece, and get out.”
“Right, Kitty.”
The big helicopter settled onto the White House lawn, and everyone poured out. The knot of waiting press ran toward Will, shouting questions.
Will stopped, held up a hand to quiet them, and spoke rapidly. “Naturally, we are all saddened by the unexpected death of Vice President George Kiel, and our hearts and our prayers go out to his loved ones. On another subject that I’m sure will interest you, I spoke with President Khan of Pakistan a little over an hour ago, and he tells me that his military exploded the missile shortly after it was fired and that little loss of life or damage resulted from the explosion. The Pakistani military has moved quickly to secure all the other missile sites in that country, and I’m waiting for a final report. I’m optimistic that all will be well shortly. I’ll address the subject when all reports are in, and that’s all I have for you now.” He walked quickly toward the White House, ignoring shouted questions.
“Marty,” Will said, “you stay with me. The staff will put your things in an upstairs bedroom, and by tomorrow we’ll have you in Blair House.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
The two men walked into the Oval Office, and Will noted the flashing lights on his telephone. “And Marty, it’s ‘Will’ when we’re alone or with top staff. You can use the title in public or larger gatherings.”
“Yes, Will.”
Will took a brief call from the Pentagon and hung up. “No further word from President Khan,” he said to the small group. Kate was on another phone talking with her people. She hung up.
“We’ve been able to confirm the location of the site with the remaining missiles,” she said. “I suggest you allow me to give the Pentagon the coordinates, in case we have to knock it out.”
Will nodded. “Tell them only on my direct and explicit order,” he said. “I want to keep us out of this, if at all possible.” He turned to Kitty. “Call the secretary of state and tell him I want him in constant touch with the Pakistani ambassador,” he said.
“Will,” Martin Stanton said, “does it worry you that we’ve heard nothing from Khan about the securing of the final missile site?”
“Yes, it does,” Will said, “but Khan has, in the past, sometimes been slow to respond to communications. I hope this is just one of those times.”
“I hope so, too,” Stanton said. “I don’t think you should say anything else publicly until that situation is fully clarified.”
“I’ll put it off until tomorrow morning,” Will said, “but if we haven’t had a positive response from Khan by then, I’ll just have to report what I know. I can’t allow this to drag on.”
“I understand.”
The phone rang, and Will picked it up. “Yes?”
“President Khan for you, Mr. President.”
“Put him through. President Khan?”
“Yes, President Lee. I am calling to tell you that the final missile site has been secured. Also, I wish to express my condolences and those of my government on the death of Vice President Kiel. I knew him well, and he was a fine man.”
“Thank you, President Khan.”
“If you will forgive me for being brief, I have matters to attend to.”
“Of course, Mr. President,” Will said, “and I am glad to have your news.” He waited for a response, but Khan had hung up. Will turned to the group. “Looks like we’re out of the woods,” he said. “The final site has been secured. Kitty, release that to the media and tell them I’ll hold a brief news conference in the morning. No address to the nation. Let’s not make too big a deal of this-it’s over.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Kitty ran for her office.
“I think that’s it for the night,” Will said. “Everybody get some sleep. Marty, you come upstairs with Kate and me.”
***
Upstairs, Will took a call from the secretary of state, who said he had gotten Khan’s message from the Pakistani ambassador.
“Tom,” Will said, “we’ve got to use these events as a tool for forging a new agreement with Pakistan on the handling of nuclear weapons. Let’s make it our goal to have them all disabled and secured at a single location. We may not get that, but let’s try. Get started on that first thing tomorrow, and make it your highest priority.”
“Yes, Mr. President, and may I say that everyone at State is very sad about the death of George Kiel. He knew his foreign policy, and we had great respect and affection for him.”
“Thank you very much, Tom, and good night,” Will said, and hung up.
“Would you two like a drink?” Kate asked.
Both men nodded. “The usual,” Will said. He allowed himself a drink or two a day at his doctor’s suggestion.
“A single malt, if you’ve got it,” Stanton said.
They settled in with their drinks.
“This was a close one,” Will said. “There are a hundred ways it could have been a lot worse, and I think we’ve gotten off easy.”
“So far,” Kate said. “Do you really think that Khan will agree to tighter controls on his warheads?”
“If not, I’m going to tighten as many screws as I can think of,” Will said. “He knows how bad this could have been, and I hope it’s shaken him to the core.”
“I’ve met the man twice,” Stanton said, “but I don’t think I know him well enough to offer advice.”
“Nobody expects you to be an expert on foreign policy, Marty,” Will said. “Not yet, anyway. Defer any questions from the press to Kitty or me. After all, you’re still the governor of California.”
“Perfectly true, Will.”
“What kind of governor do you think Mike Rivera will make?”
“He’s been a good lieutenant governor,” Stanton said, “and I think he would have had a good shot at my job in November. It should be easier for him, now.”
“Maybe you should give him a call before you go to bed,” Will said.
“Yes, I will.”
Stanton looked pensive. “This is the first nuclear explosion in the atmosphere since… the sixties? The French?”
“Since 1980,” Will replied. “The Chinese.”
The phone rang, and Kate picked it up. She listened for a minute or so. “Stay on it,” she said, then hung up. She turned back to Will and Stanton. “We’ve had a report from an operative that something important was taken away from that last missile site,” she said. “In a helicopter.”
“What was taken?”
“No confirmation, but the helicopter probably means that the military took it away.”
“I hope to God it was the warhead,” Will said.
“I hope to God it was the military,” Kate replied.
9
Will sat with Martin Stanton as they finished their drinks. Kate had gone to bed.
“Will,” Stanton said, “there’s something I have to tell you. I know I should have spoken about this sooner, but I couldn’t until I had talked to Betty, and what with the events of today, the situation was resolved only earlier this evening.”
“What is it, Marty?”
“Betty and I are divorcing.”
Will sat and stared at the man, saying nothing.
“We had talked about this before but hadn’t come to any conclusions. The vice-presidential nomination was the final straw-she doesn’t want to come to Washington. It’s amicable, I assure you. There’s only the settlement to be worked out, and we’re both reasonable people. I want her to be happy with it.”
“You’re right, Marty. You should have told me sooner, but I don’t think it would have eliminated you as a candidate. Of course, we’ll never know about that.”
“I’m sorry.”
That’s enough punishment for the man, Will thought. “I’ll get together with my staff, and we’ll figure out when to make the announcement.”
“I’ll need to know that, so that I can inform Betty beforehand.”
“Of course. It’s not a time to make her angry.” Will paused and took a sip of his drink. “Now there’s the other question.”
“The answer is no,” Stanton said. “There’s no other woman.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Will said. “Does Betty have another man?” Stanton looked surprised at the question. “Of course not. Betty’s not given to that sort of thing.”
“Are you sure about that, Marty? How much time have you and Betty spent together lately?”
“More than you might think, in the circumstances. We still sleep in the same bed, or at least we did until now.”
“Then I’ll take your word for it, Marty. But I don’t want any more surprises. If there’s anything else you want to tell me, now is the time.”
Stanton shook his head vigorously. “No. There’s nothing else.”
Will polished off his drink and stood up. “Good, then I’m off to bed.”
“I, too,” Stanton said.
The two men shook hands and went to their respective bedrooms.
Will found Kate in bed reading a novel. He sat down on the bed and shucked off his shoes. “All these years, and I don’t know how you do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Go from a nuclear crisis to a novel in a heartbeat.”
“It keeps me sane to be able to live in a book for an hour.” She turned the page.
“And you can read while talking to me,” Will said.
“In my novel, you’re not the president.”
“Maybe I won’t be on January twentieth, either,” he said.
“Fat chance,” she replied, turning another page.
10
Will convened a meeting with Kitty Conroy,his campaign manager , Sam Meriwether, his chief of staff Tim Coleman, his political consultant Tom Black, and Moss Mallet, his pollster. He began by telling them of his conversation with Martin Stanton.
The reaction was, at first, a thoughtful silence. Finally, Tom Black spoke. “This is going to come out,” he said. “Perhaps during the campaign, perhaps sooner.”
“Only Marty and his wife and the people in this room know about it,” Will said.
“Marty and his wife and his mistress,” Tom said.
“There was no mention of a mistress,” Will said.
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one, or that his wife doesn’t have another man, or both.”
“Kitty,” Will said, “see that the FBI adds those questions to their questionnaire and the background check.”
“Yes, sir,” Kitty replied, making a note.
“Whatever there is, it’s going to come out,” Black repeated, “even if only God knows. Even He would mention it to somebody.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Will asked.
“One of two things: either find yourself another running mate, or announce it soon, while we can still control it.”
“I’m convinced Marty is the best choice,” Will said, “even with a pending divorce.”
Moss Mallet spoke up. “You all know Governor Stanton has a Mexican mother. That’s going to help us in California and the Southwest and in Florida, too, and that is a very great deal of help. Your immigration policy has cost you some Hispanic support, Mr. President, but no Republican is going to have even a part-Hispanic running mate. We have to capitalize on that.”
Will nodded. “Sam?”
“Keep him, but get the news out.”
“Tim?”
“Stick with him,” Tim replied.
“Kitty, are you on board?”
“I’m scared, but I’m on board,” she replied.
“So be it,” Tom Black said. “Are you going to appoint him vice president soon?”
“Yes,” Will said.
“Then I think he should bring it up in his opening statement at the Senate confirmation hearings.”
“That will grab all the headlines,” Tim Coleman said.
“For a day,” Tom replied. “Then we’ll have it out in the open and out of the way.”
“It will get more play than that in California,” Coleman pointed out.
“Nothing we can do about that,” Sam said, “and California is where we can most afford the coverage. Stanton was reelected with nearly seventy percent of the vote.”
“Tim,” Will said, “you work on the opening statement with Marty’s people. Don’t finish the statement with the announcement-put it somewhere in the middle. In the meantime, nobody in this room is authorized to tell any other person, living or dead, about this, and don’t mention it in your prayers; you never know who’s listening. What’s next?”
Black spoke up. “Henry King Jackson.” Jackson was the African-American mayor of Atlanta who had left the Democratic Party and had been elected as an independent. A large, handsome man with a voice to match, he had become the most prominent national spokesman for black Americans.
“What about Henry?” Will asked.
“I’m hearing rumors that he’s considering launching a third-party candidacy,” Black said.
“How substantial are the rumors?” Will asked.
“Not very, but they’re from fairly inside sources.”
“I know him about as well as any white guy,” Sam said, “and I don’t think he’ll do it. He’ll use the threat to get something from Will, but in the end, he won’t run.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the others.
“We have to have a plan to deal with him, anyway,” Black said, “just in case he does.”
Will turned to Kitty. “What can we offer him? Something in the new cabinet?”
Kitty shrugged. “King Henry has a pretty high opinion of himself. It would have to be something bigger than HUD. You want to make him secretary of state?”
Will smiled and shook his head.
Sam spoke up. “Why don’t you make him an ambassador-at-large to Africa?”
“Too grandiose a title and not substantive enough,” Will said. “The man is not stupid. How about assistant secretary of state for African affairs?”
“That’s a career diplomat’s post,” Kitty said. “Still, if he had a top-notch State Department officer at his side and in his hair, it might work. And it would keep him out of the country a lot, and that’s a plus.”
“Are you going to keep Tom Rodgers on at State?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Will said, “and he’s already said he’ll stay on.”
“You’d better feel him out about it before you talk to Henry,” Kitty said. “I’m not sure how he’ll react.”
Will smiled. “Neither am I.”
“Henry’s going to be in D.C. for an NAACP conference pretty soon,” Sam said.
“Maybe I’ll invite him to lunch,” Will replied.
“No witnesses,” Kitty cautioned. “None of his people, anyway.”
“You’re a cynic, Kitty. If Tom Rodgers buys into this, maybe I should have him there. It would lend weight to the offer.”
Kitty nodded and made a note.
“Moss,” Will said, “how are we looking in the polls this week?”
“You’ve got a fifty-eight percent approval rating nationwide-up a point. Your ratings on foreign affairs and defense remain at that level, too. Forty-seven percent on immigration, which is more than I expected.”
“How about against the Republican candidate?”
“Tell me who he or she will be, and I’ll tell you,” Moss said, laughing. “There’s a close, three-way contest among the opposition party. But, you’re ahead of them all by at least ten points.”
“So things aren’t bad, then?”
“They’re better than not bad, they’re very good.”
“Have you done any polling on a possible Henry Jackson run?”
“I’ve thought it better to let sleeping dogs lie, but I haven’t seen anything from the papers or the networks that gives him more than eight percent. Of course, most of those woul
d be black folks who would otherwise be voting for you.”
“Would he take any votes at all from a Republican?”
“Maybe a few black Republicans, but not anybody else. Jackson could only matter in a tight race.”
“Still,” Will said, “I’d rather have him in Africa than on the campaign trail.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Kitty asked.
“Henry is a smart guy,” Will said. “Let’s not underestimate him.”
“I hope he’s smart enough to take the African job,” Kitty said.
11
Robert Kinney, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, looked across the desk at Assistant Director Kerry Smith, the youngest AD every to hold that office. Kerry looked back at him expectantly.
“Kerry, you’ve been supervising the background check on Governor Martin Stanton, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Director, but just oversight, not direct participation.”
“There’s an interview with the governor scheduled this afternoon.”
“That’s correct, Director.”
“I want you to conduct it personally.”
Smith’s eyebrows went up.
“Don’t question, just do.”
“I take it this interview is of a special nature to the White House?”
“This appointment is of a special nature, Kerry. We’ve got a dead vice president, not even in the ground yet, and an appointment of a new one by the president on the fly in the middle of a nuclear event halfway around the world. There’ve been a lot of distractions for the president. He’s ordinarily a careful man by nature, but I don’t want him to miss something that’s going to rise up and bite him on the ass later, like in the confirmation hearings in the Senate.”
“Then he’s going to appoint Stanton vice president to serve out Kiel’s term?”
“You have to ask?”
“No, sir. Is there anything in particular that should be brought into this interview, apart from the draft of the information you’ve already seen?”
“Yes, two things: First, the governor has told the president that he and his wife are divorcing quite soon and that she will not be participating in the campaign.”
