70 - Washington, D.C.
President Quaid called Senators Wayne Giddings, the Republican majority leader, and Senator Grant Farrell, the Democratic minority leader, to meet with him at the White House. The President felt isolated, not in the least by the almost complete refusal of the First Lady to speak with him on other than ceremonial occasions. The resignation of his oldest friend, Bob Brown, as chief of staff left the President surrounded by staffers who viewed their duty as being to pat the President on the back and tell him that all his decisions were wise and correct.
Quaid was experienced enough to know that he was far from perfect. He looked forward to his meeting with the Senate leaders.
“Grant, Wayne, thank you for coming by to see me,” he said, ushering the two men through the Oval Office and out a side door, leading to a small kitchen, and then to the President’s private study. “Let’s sit down here, no need to be formal, right?”
“It’s your party, Mr. President,” Sen. Giddings replied. “No pun intended, sir.”
The President attempted a smile.
“Wayne, it’s nice to see somebody at least making the effort at a little humor right now,” he said. “I’ll be up front with both of you. I am at my wits end about what to do about this situation. The consequences of making the wrong decision are too scary to think about. I’m ready for firm actions, but I’m not willing to walk out on this limb by myself. Am I making myself clear, gentlemen?”
“Mr. President, we backed you before, about taking a firm hand with those Jews on those ships in Boston,” Sen. Giddings said. “None of my people have tweaked you about the way you handled that situation, well, except for Jane Struthers from New York. She has a constituency at home to answer to. You’ve got to expect a little pushback from her on anything that cuts the wrong way for her Jewish supporters.
“You do what you have to do with this situation now, Sir, just run it by us first so there are no surprises. I’ll tell you up front if I can’t back you on something.
“You know me well enough, sir. I tell you I won’t bite you, that the Republicans won’t bite you on something and you can take that to the bank.” The Republican smiled. “Besides, you’re doing enough other stuff that makes my folks’ blood boil. We’ll nail you on that other stuff.”
“Same goes for me, of course, Mr. President,” Sen. Farrell said. “Except we’re not going to bite you on anything. After all, sir, you might not be the dog I would’ve picked to head the pack in the first place, but you’re still our top dog.”
“That’s what I expected to hear,” President Quaid said. “My people prepared this for me to give to you. Its a resolution Congress will pass.” He handed each man a one-page document.
Sen. Giddings quickly scanned the page he’d been given. “This language looks familiar,” he said. “Where was this cribbed from?”
“Good catch, Wayne,” the President said. “It’s almost word for word from what Congress passed after September 11. This language was broad enough for Bush to do whatever he wanted, from invading Afghanistan and Iraq to listening in on every telephone call any American had with anybody outside the country. One of my legal eagles called it a Congressional get-out-of-jail-free card for the White House.”
“This language is awfully broad, sir,” Sen. Farrell said cautiously. He began reading, “the President is authorized to use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks or harbored such organizations or persons, in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations or persons.”
Farrell handed the paper back to the President.
“With all due respect, Mr. President, I don’t see any limitations in there. It pretty much says you can do anything anywhere to anybody. Am I missing something here, sir?”
“No, Grant, you’ve nailed it right on the nose. This is what I want. This is what Congress gave W. Bush. You aren’t going to tell me that what happened in those two shopping malls was any less a terrorist act than what happened to the World Trade Center, are you?” the President’s voice was rising, a tint of anger slipping in. “We aren’t going to just count the number of dead bodies, are we? So a thousand fewer people died this time, for now, does that really make any difference, Grant? On top of two FBI agents? And ten Coast Guardsmen?”
“No, of course not, sir,” Sen. Farrell realized he had, perhaps, gone too far. “The bombing of those two malls was certainly a terrorist act. Nobody is going to deny that.”
“From what my people tell me,” the President continued, “the precision timing of the bombings, that degree of coordination was the work of some big organization, probably even a government. And those bombs were damn sophisticated, they tell me.
“No way those two kids rigged them up themselves. No, my people tell me that the Jews have taken a card from the Palestinians with this suicide bombing game. And you know what that means, gentlemen. You both know what happens next, right?”
“Uh, tell us, sir,” Sen. Giddings said.
“More suicide bombings, that’s what happens next, goddammit,” Quaid responded. “At least we hope that’s all that happens next. It isn’t shopping mall bombs that keep me awake at night. There’s that other thing floating around, too.”
“The nuclear, thing, sir?” Sen. Giddings asked. “I was briefed on that, just me and four other senators, including, of course, my Democratic brother here. But there’s been nothing for three days, nothing except that guy who was shot in New Hampshire, rumors he was related to something, but only rumors.”
“I’ll tell you, tell you both, but we’re trying to keep it quite,” Giddings was surprised by how tired the President suddenly sounded. “The guy who was shot, killed before he could say a word, was the Israeli agent we’d been looking for. He’s dead, but we still don’t have a clue where the bomb is, or who he was working with, or how many other special forces they managed to sneak into the country.” President Quaid was feeling overwhelmed, which was why he’d reached out to the Congressional leaders for backing. This was no time for politics, he thought.
“We’ve got helicopters flying all over the place in Maine and half the FBI is up there poking around but they’ve come up with squat, gentlemen, nothing at all. My Homeland Security chief reminded me that in 2008, after spending $90 million to come up with devices to detect nuclear material hidden in New York City, a helicopter with the latest and greatest detection gear buzzed back and forth over Wall Street for an hour and couldn’t locate a black SUV the FBI had stuffed with enough radioactive material to make a dozen dirty bombs.
“I find that pretty frightening. We’re facing an organization sophisticated enough to smuggle a nuclear device and now to hide it from our best detection equipment. This is one well-organized group we’re facing. They can’t be anything but military. And we all know how good the Israelis were at this kind of thing. Jesus Christ, they trained our people when it came to tricks and games.”
“Sounds like we didn’t appreciate how lucky we were to be facing Muslim terrorists,” Sen. Giddings said. “Despite years of trying, they never pulled off anything like this. And here it is the Israelis manage to get a bomb into this country three months after they get bombed themselves.” He paused.
“You don’t suppose they think we had anything to do with that, do you, sir?”
“No, there’s no indication of that,” the President replied. “But who the hell knows what they’re thinking. There’s nobody left from their government we can talk with. We don’t know whether we’re facing some organized government plan or a bunch of rogue agents, and we don’t know which one would be worse for us.”
“So what do you have in mind, sir, if I may ask?” Sen. Farrell said. He kept to himself his shock at the change in the President’s appearance. He and Larry Quaid went back decades together. The President seemed to have aged years in the past few months, and, Farrell thought, he sounded paranoid, as if some bogeyman were stalking him. The old Larry Quaid, actually the old rock solid team of Larry and Catherine Quaid, would never have talked this way, certainly not about people who were among Quaid’s best supporters, politically and financially.
“We haven’t decided what we’re going to do yet,” President Quaid responded. “But I do know this. This nation is under attack, attack from forces of a foreign state right in our homeland. For obvious reasons, we can’t attack the homeland of the nation that is attacking us. There is no Afghanistan, no Iraq for us to clean out in this war.
“This time the enemy is among us. That’s who is attacking us, this enemy among us. That’s who I intend to protect the American people from.”
Farrell felt an urge to comfort the President, to provide emotional support that it was obvious his old friend was not getting elsewhere. But men don’t do that for other men, Farrell thought.
The President continued, his voice rising in volume, speed, pitch.
“It’s not what’s happened so far that’s keeping me awake at night, it’s what is going to happen any day now, any day now, do you understand that? More bombings for sure. More Americans killed. They don’t have to smuggle any more soldiers into the country. They have millions of them here right now, millions.” Unconsciously, the President rested both hands on the table in front of him, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He noticed the other men glance at his hands, pinned to the table. “They showed us that in Boston, damn sure, they showed us where their loyalty really is.
“I don’t know if I can trust any Jew right now,” Quaid said. “And we’ll be lucky if all we face are more soldiers, more attacks, more suicide bombings. I wake up every morning expecting to hear that we’ve lost more than a shopping mall, more than God forbid an elementary school. I expect to hear that we’ve lost a city.”
The two Senators remained silent. The President was no longer looking for advice from them.
“Give me that resolution,” the President said. “I want to sign that legislation tomorrow.”
The senators looked at each other and, one after the other, said, “Yes, sir.”