by Gordon Ryan
“Thank you, Mr. President. I’m honored to be in your home, especially with your family,” the elderly Chinese man said.
President Snow took his seat at the head of the table and unfolded his napkin, then the waiter began to serve the first course. “For those of you who don’t know Lee, he’s the president and founder of an international furniture export company in Taiwan. Our association dates from the late seventies when I represented his firm on their purchase of a large warehousing facility in Phoenix. After we closed the deal, he invited me to vacation with him in Kaohsiung, in southern Taiwan. It’s a beautiful country. We’ve maintained contact ever since. He’s here at the direction of the Taiwanese government on business with the State Department. I’m honored to have him here tonight. Unfortunately, he has to leave directly after dinner to catch a flight back to Taiwan. Lee, you need to let me know a bit sooner the next time you’re coming to Washington. You’re the only one I would be willing to practice my Mandarin on without feeling foolish.”
“Once again, I am honored, Mr. President,” Lee replied. The elderly Chinese man spoke excellent English, but with a slight British accent.
The president turned his attention to his other guest. “Rachel, very nice of you to come also. Is the Senate keeping you busy?”
“As a freshman senator, they keep me confused and busy, Mr. President,” she responded.
“Get used to it.” He laughed. “Lee, do you remember the Chen family? They owned the small electronics store in Tsoying and contracted with the American military servicemen to buy their appliances when they rotated back to the states?’
“Yes, of course. Wonderful people. They still live in Kaohsiung.”
“I feel sort of like them now,” President Snow said. “I’m the guy who lives above the shop.”
Lee chuckled and nodded his head, pausing to take a drink of water. “I suppose that’s right, Mr. President. An honorable Chinese tradition.”
President Snow shook his head from side to side. “Does everyone think that just for dinner, they could call me Bill? I’d be very grateful for just a moment to be out of the office and above the shop.”
“Can I still call you Grandpa?” Alicia asked, a glint in her eye, confirming she’d been paying attention to the grown-up talk.
“My little darling, you can call me anything you want, as long as you sit in my lap and hug my neck every time you come to visit. I know you’re fourteen, but you’ll never be too old to sit in my lap,” he said, smiling at his granddaughter.
After the dessert round of coconut custard had been served and consumed, Helen Snow stood and moved toward the doorway. “Grandma is headed for the theater downstairs, where, as I am told, the pre-release version of Far World: Fire Keep is just waiting for some children to come and see it. I also understand that we have the choice of snow cones or popcorn, or both. Do I have any takers?”
Both children jumped up immediately and ran to join Grandma as she walked toward the door. “Oh, Grandma, my school friends will be so jealous. Fire Keep’s not even in the movies yet. I can’t believe it,” Alicia cried.
“Count me in too, Mom,” Megan said, “I have a feeling Dad is going to bore Pug and Rachel to death with more business. If it’s a question of watching Scott Savage’s creatures save the universe, or Dad’s political discussion, well, just count me in the movie group. Dad may have joked about being the “man above the shop,” but he meant every word of it. When he’s awake, the shop is open. Scott,” she said to her husband, “movies or politics?”
“Movies for me too, Megan. My contribution to politics was fulfilled when I voted for your father. Good luck, Pug,” he said to his brother.
The president said his goodbyes to Lee as the elderly gentleman left with a Secret Service escort to drive him to the airport. Then President Snow, Pug, and Rachel moved into the living area and took seats around the fireplace, which in the advent of warmer weather had been filled with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
“I asked Helen to take the kids downstairs so we could have a bit of time to discuss a few things. Not a strategy session, of course, but the three of us are going to become increasingly involved in the decisions about how to proceed. I also wanted to ask you, Rachel, about the proposal that has come before your intelligence sub-committee, specifically Domestic Tranquility. The SI proposal to beef up our private security options throughout America. Pug, have you had a chance to read that proposal?”
“Yes, sir. General Austin was given a copy by Senator Culpepper the day we visited in his office. Absolutely astonishing, especially the measures suggested if we need to reach Phase III. Basically, it calls for the suspension of habeas corpus, elimination of a citizens’ right to an attorney for anyone whom they see fit to detain, without criminal charge, for seven days. For all intents and purposes, they’re proposing a police state.”
“Exactly. That’s my understanding as well. Rachel, how does the committee see it?”
“Mr. President-”
“Nope, it’s Bill for this evening, Rachel.”
She smiled briefly and nodded. “Not part of my protocol training, Bill. How does my committee see it, you ask? I’m sorry to report that this piece of Gestapo legislation has garnered more support than I would have thought. There are many who feel it’s justified in light of the attacks on our people in public places. Oh, they voice concern about suspension of rights, constitutional privileges, etcetera, but they end up affirming support, certainly for the early phases which are not quite so restrictive.”
“ How do you see it, Rachel?”
Senator McKenzie was quiet for several moments, looking for some seconds toward Pug and then turning back to the president. “Sir, I’ve not been very popular in my opposition. I fear that if I’m too vocal, I’ll lose credibility, and be of no use to you or those who oppose this police state action.”
“I understand that, Rachel, but if everyone who opposes it takes that cautionary position, it will simply slip through. Who are the major proponents?”
“Senator Culpepper for one, although I sometimes think he is playing a devil’s advocate role, trying to extract the thinking of the others.”
Pug interjected. “Rachel, when General Austin and I met with Senator Culpepper in his office the day we appeared before your committee, he was much more negative about the SI proposal. That was why he gave it to the general to review. He voiced skepticism, but said he needed to take a supportive position publicly to ensure he was approachable by the SI principals. Either way, he can talk to people from both sides of the argument. And of course, sir, the message he had me deliver to you the other day reveals his thinking.”
“Maybe it does, Pug, maybe not. It wouldn’t be beyond him to try to stand me against this so he had an adversary to challenge. And avoiding publicly revealing his position is his standard political ploy, rd polits? the president said. “Senator Culpepper is a master at playing his cards close to the chest. I don’t think we’ll know where he truly stands until the proposal is brought to a vote. Maybe not even then. If he’s certain it will pass the full Senate, then he would probably vote for it just to shield his opposition and curry favors from the other supporters.”
Rachel continued. “There’s a new wrinkle to the proposal, Mr…. Bill. It was discussed today, actually. John Harford, president of SI, testified before our committee in closed session, and while I can’t divulge the content of that meeting, I can say he proposed that SI demonstrate some of the security measures live, in a multi-city pilot program. He suggested that they implement the program in two or three local areas, cities with a large military presence and therefore potential targets. He said some of these attacks have been directed at such places because it heightens the public’s perception that even our military can’t protect itself. Several people who were shot, as you know, were soldiers or civilian contractors working on military bases. They’ve even killed two CIA analysts while they were driving to work in Langley. Harford suggested a pilot prog
ram in San Antonio, Colorado Springs, and the environs of Washington D.C.”
“What is he proposing, Rachel?” Pug asked.
“Marked and unmarked vehicles, aerial drones with visual-but not attack-capability, mobile command and control vehicles in semi-articulated trucks, uniformed and armed guards in the malls, at public sporting events, and a list of smaller measures,” she replied. “The committee reacted very favorably.”
“I guess we can be grateful he didn’t ask for Hellfire missiles on the drones. Who else testified?” the president asked.
“General Wainscott, Army Deputy Chief of Staff, who recommended approval of the proposal. He’s the one who wrote the Army’s position paper on the inability of National Guard troops to meet this kind of domestic police challenge, constitutionally and manpower-wise. At least, on a long-term basis.”
The president made a note on a small pad by the side of his chair. “Pug, does Secretary Austin have a position on this SI proposal?”
“Sir, as a career military man, General Austin can see merit to much of what is proposed, but he drew a clear distinction between governing an occupied country after a war and governing a democracy within our domestic borders. Security measures for the former are not conducive to the freedoms inherent in the latter. He said this is more than the proverbial slippery slope. He thinks implementation of such a program will never be able to be reversed. If we add legislative revision to the measures undertaken, essentially suspending constitutional rights, the Constitution will die a natural death, or so he thinks, and will never be recovered. I would suggest you speak with him yourself, sir. For all the protection it might afford, the measures proposed will curtail innocent citizens from enjoying their freedoms.”
“I understand,” President Snow said, nodding and making another note. “I think I need to have another meeting with Admiral Barrington, Secreta ry Austin, yourself, and a couple of the House and Senate leaders, and perhaps even Senator Culpepper, to draw the old fox out. Rachel, when is your committee’s next meeting?”
“Day after tomorrow, Mr. President.”
Snow smiled, stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “I think perhaps I should consider a joint House and Senate fact-finding committee, with a couple of military minds and even Homeland Security personnel assigned to participate. I see two people who could serve and have my full confidence,” he said, smiling at both Rachel and Pug.
“Mr. President-” Rachel began when the president raised his hand to stop her.
“No, Senator, I think it’s a good idea, and I’ll request implementation this week. But now that we’ve reverted to ‘Mr. President,’ I think it’s time for a snow cone and to see if Far World is any safer than Earth. You both coming downstairs with me?”
Rachel and Pug rose from their chairs, Rachel speaking first. “Mr. President, I have an early meeting on the Hill in the morning. If I might beg off, I came here straight from the office tonight, so I think I’ll catch a taxi and head home. I have to read the background material before closing my eyes tonight, although the stimulating reading material in this farm subsidy package might just accomplish both objectives.”
“I’m heading toward Reston, Rachel. May I offer you a ride home?” Pug said.
Rachel thought for a moment, gathered her purse, and replied. “I live near Mclean, just off the George Washington Parkway, so not too far away. I appreciate the offer, Pug, and I’ll take you up on it.”
The president headed for the door. “Well, then, thank you both for coming tonight. I hope we get a chance to do it again,” he said.
As they exited the room, Rachel in the lead, President Snow winked at Pug and whispered in his ear. “I’ll tell Helen she can be proud of you. No motherly interference necessary.”
Twenty minutes later, pulling off the Parkway toward Rachel’s home, general discussion about Pug’s brother’s and younger sister having filled the journey, Pug stared at Rachel for several long moments as they waited at an intersection.
“Maybe we could do this sometime on our own, have dinner, I mean, without chaperones.”
Rachel didn’t respond immediately, reaching in her purse for her cell phone. She keyed a Speed Dial number and then closed the phone. The stop light had turned green and Pug was underway again.
“Just turning on my house lights and the outside security lights,” she said.
“Wow, a high-tech woman.”
“No, just a single woman living alone in a dangerous city,” she said. “Besides, America is under attack, or haven’t you heard? Turn left at the next light, then right on Patrick Henry Lane. Third house on the right.”
Pug followed as directed and pulled up in Rachel’s driveway, shutting off his engine. “Beautiful view of the Potomac,” he said, admiring her home. “About that dinner on our own sometime,” he repeated.
Rachel turned to face him and leaned against the car door, her face intense, focused on his, but her eyes warm and inviting.
“I don’t think we should go down that road.”
“What road?” Pug replied.
A slight grin crossed Rachel’s face, but she didn’t immediately respond, causing Pug to anxiously shift in his seat. “We’re not twenty-two-year-old college students, Pug. You know what road I’m talking about, so drop the gamesmanship, please.”
He laughed softly, nodding his head. “Okay, consider me duly chastened. May I ask why not? Is there someone you’re currently dating?”
She ignored the second question. “I like you, Pug. That’s why not.”
“Reverse logic?”
“Not at all. Basic female logic. I do like you. I really like you, and I can see that you like me. I could say I don’t date younger men,” she said, a broader smile crossing her face.
“Forty-two and forty-four does not place me in the category of a Toy Boy,” he said.
Rachel laughed out loud. “I guess not. It would appear that we’ve both done our homework on the other’s biography. And it’s forty- three, not forty-four.”
“Guilty again. I looked up Senator Rachel Ann McKenzie’s congressional stats and life history. I’m assuming you’ve done the same. But am I entitled to any other explanation? I mean, let’s face it. Two single people our age, both educated, both involved in government, favorable toward the military, involved in similar political issues-at least, at present. What are the odds that we could find someone else who had the same values, same interests, card-carrying conservatives, so to speak.”
“Very low odds, I would say, Pug.”
“And you say you like me.”
“Yes, I do, and that is exactly why I don’t want to go down this road.”
Pug shook his head. “You told the president that the Senate confused you. I can only imagine what you do to them,” he responded.
Again, silence for several moments. Then, “Okay, here it is in a nutshell, General Connor. My father was an Air Force pilot who was killed in aerial combat in Vietnam before my second birthday. My husband was a National Guard company commander and was killed, also in combat, in Afghanistan just over five years ago. Now, I’ve just met another military guy who is a Marine general with an outstanding combat record with a Bronze Star and a Navy Cross for covert actions that are not public information. While that makes you a brave and competent officer, a leader of men from your peer’s perspective, and the nation has expressed its gratitude, it makes you a poor risk for a romantic relationship with a woman who has more than paid her dues to America. Is that clear enough?”
Pug stared into Rachel’s eyes, holding his tongue, absorbing the rhetoric she had just delivered. She had succinctly confirmed everything General Austin had told him that day in the Capitol. Her face was stoic and her demeanor quite serious.
“A romantic relationship, you say? That sounds good to me, Senator,” he said, keeping a straight face.
After about ten seconds of silence, both of them started laughing out loud.
“Why don’t we just start with
dinner sometime, Rachel? Sometime soon. Maybe I chew nosily, or pick my teeth. Maybe I’ll make you share the bill. You may not want to go down that road because it’s full of pot holes, not because the destination is unclear… or dangerous. Maybe I just want recreational sex. Maybe you just want recreational sex. Let’s not jump to conclusions too soon.”
“Goodnight, Pug,” she said, opening the car door. “Thank you for a lovely evening and a ride home. See you… when I see you,” she said. “It sounds as if the president is going to put us in the same room together rather quickly. And I think we’ll both be too busy for any recreation.”
“Goodnight, Rachel. And by the way, I like you too, Senator,” he said.
Chapter 26
Office of Strategic Initiatives
Washington D.C.
June
“I want that pilot program approved now, General, not next month or next week. Now!”
“I understand, Mr. Harford. I make the final presentation to Senator Culpepper’s sub-committee tomorrow. I see no reason for delay. I can assure you, we’ll get it done. I already have assets in the 4 ^th Army command at Fort Sam Houston ready to implement. San Antonio will be the Army’s staging area for the pilot.”
“The Army is in a supporting role, not the primary agency. Remember that. A lot’s riding on this, General Wainscott. I’m sure you understand. If we can prove the merits of our surveillance techniques in San Antonio, Colorado Springs, and even here in D.C., then the program will go national. I need experienced men to command that program. You’re about to retire and I’m counting on you to fill one of those roles. Do we understand each other?”
“We do, sir. Just leave it to me.”
Harcourt rose and started to walk toward the door of his office, a signal that the meeting was over. “Call me the minute the meeting ends and I’ll get things started. Remember, your Army cohorts are in an observation role only, to report on the results. By your own comments, this is not a program for the Army or the National Guard. I’ll take care of the tactical implementation. SI has that covered.”