The Trust Of The People

by Christopher Read

  Chapter 18 – Monday, November 7th

  Eastern United States – 09:52 Local Time; 14:52 UTC

  The President always found the trip to New York frustrating, the roundabout route of Andrews to JFK in Air Force One, then Marine One across to the heliport in downtown Manhattan, seeming unnecessarily complicated. Security concerns were the excuse, Cavanagh too unsure of his facts to argue the point. Just minutes after landing, the President’s motorcade was heading along FDR Drive towards the United Nations Headquarters. Twenty-eight vehicles, plus a dozen motorcycle outriders, traveling at speed along an empty road while around them the Monday-morning Manhattan traffic struggled to cope with road closures and heavy rain – Cavanagh invariably felt uncomfortable at such examples of privilege, where possible cutting back on the frivolous, trying to set a good example.

  Now such trivial concerns seemed totally irrelevant. Cavanagh was having to fight for his political career, unsure who he could count on, fearful of not doing the ‘right’ thing. The Post’s latest editorial had been stinging in its condemnation of Cavanagh’s TV address and his handling of China; there was even an unsubtle hint that he should abandon thoughts of a second term. Under different circumstances, Cavanagh knew The Washington Post would be suggesting he step down, but with no Vice-President that particular idea was a non-starter.

  A week ago, Cavanagh would have judged the Cabinet totally loyal; now the cracks were starting to show, Thorn perhaps not the first to abandon ship. The Secretary of State’s letter of resignation had finally been found, Amy Pittman handing it to him as they had walked towards Air Force One.

  Once aboard, Cavanagh had ripped it open, reading the formal words with rising contempt. The sense of betrayal still rankled, Thorn’s twisting of the facts to suit his own specific message an unjust end to his two years as Secretary of State. The public mood was still extremely negative, the online petition against Cavanagh now passing two million. As its numbers rose, so the stock market continued its downward trend, opening that morning twelve percent lower than the previous Monday. The voting chaos had continued, with Alaska the latest state to report polling places shut and voters turned away.

  The motorcade turned left off the 42nd Street exit, Cavanagh readying himself for the speech of his life. Whether it was the stress of the moment or something else, he suddenly realised a bead of perspiration was running down his face.

  “Mr President, are you alright?”

  Cavanagh glanced across at the National Security Adviser seated to his left, forcing a smile. “Yes Amy, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep that well, that’s all.” Now his nose was running as well. “Probably the start of a cold…”

  Any further comments were cut short as the limousine slowed to a halt, a Secret Service agent immediately pulling open the car door.

  Cavanagh spent the next thirty minutes in a daze, going through the motions, shaking hands and saying the rights things but not really feeling he was actually there. Although he could be nervous before a big speech, Cavanagh had learned to cope with generally no-one ever the wiser. Now he felt light-headed, dabbing at his face and nose, silently swearing at the cold that threatened to spoil his big speech – one sneeze and the drama of the moment could easily be lost.

  As the adrenalin kicked in, he seemed to regain his focus, nose and sweat glands finally behaving themselves. He strode confidently up onto the stage, the General Assembly Hall spread out before him, his message going out live to every media outlet across the world.

  “Mr President, Mr Secretary General, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen; we come together at this crucial moment in time, the threat of an international war hanging over us. I’m sure we all share the hope that the world will never again see the madness of a world war, but the danger of further escalation cannot be ignored. Several proud nations have already suffered loss; innocent lives unnecessarily sacrificed.

  “Let me make this very clear to everyone in this great hall and those watching around the world: for many of the nations represented here, the delicate balance of peace and economic growth that has endured for three-quarters of a century is under serious threat, the three most powerful countries in the world watching each other for the first sign of weakness, with a single misjudgement or misunderstanding liable to push us all into the abyss.

  “Two clear choices stand before us – continue as we are with the vicious circle of provocation and reprisal, ever widening; or a unified and concerted effort to reduce tension and solve for all time the problems that have led to the present confrontation. A single nation, even three or four, brave enough to step back from the brink of war will not be enough, we must all…”

  Cavanagh swayed slightly, almost losing his train of thought, trying to cover up his lapse by taking a sip of water from the glass in front of him. “We must all work together to bring about a lasting peace. Sadly, the record of the past seventy years shows that nations and their leaders cannot be relied upon to hold to promises, even when made in good faith, internal and external pressures weakening their resolve. We don’t need exclusion zones and every small reef militarised, nor should we allow bigger countries to bully and blackmail their smaller neighbours. The United Nations is an organisation that should be justifiably proud of what it has achieved, but on key issues its recent record is disappointing. We argue and debate, a vote for reason defeated by a single veto.”

  This wasn’t what his audience had expected, Cavanagh revealing something of his own frustrations. The President took a second sip of water, the massive screens to left and right revealing a slight tremble in his right hand.

  “The selfish aspirations of the few must not be allowed to generate turmoil across half the globe. The United Nations has the authority to act, and through its members, the military muscle, but does it have the will? The President and Secretary-General can only do so much; the real power lies with those who wish to create a world where stability and peace would inevitably lead to prosperity for all.

  “The United States has supported the United Nations since its inception, Franklin D Roosevelt one of those who believed it could be trusted to solve problems similar to those we face today. Personally, I fear he would be bitterly disappointed with the reality. The world needs the U.N. to be forceful and proactive, a body which is truly willing to take on and find solutions. We can still all work within certain guarantees, but the United Nations must prove…”

  Cavanagh stopped suddenly, his body swaying more noticeably this time, eyes seeming to lose focus. “The U.N must prove that it has the will to achieve a permanent…” His voice trailed away and he almost fell, having to clasp the top for support. Reacting instinctively, a Secret Service agent raced forward, left arm curling around the President protectively, Cavanagh almost seeming to collapse against him.

  The polite silence was broken by an increasing clamour as the delegates reacted to the scene unfolding in front of them, the President helped off the stage, white-faced and barely able to stand.