The Iran War

by Jack Strain

  “Why you little bastard. So that’s how you want to play it? Well, guess what, you’re fired, too. But don’t worry I won’t have you detained because no one takes you seriously anyway.”

  Chief of Staff Baxter Davis knew he had to act because the president was unraveling before everyone’s eyes, but before he could say anything else President Wolfe looked his Secretary of Defense in the eyes and said, “General Mahler, as Commander-in-Chief of this country, I am giving you a direct order to end this North Korean nuclear threat once and for all. I want orders sent to one of our Trident submarines to prepare for a full-scale missile launch on North Korea’s political leadership, its missile threat, and then to follow up the initial strike with the tactical nuclear strike package the Chiefs presented this afternoon. Inform our allies to give them an opportunity to prepare their people. This is happening, no more discussions.”

  With tremendous dignity, Secretary of Defense Mahler, the man known as the “Prophet,” looked over to his old friend, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Duncan, who shook his head. Mahler closed his eyes, nodded back, and then came to his feet.

  He took a quick glance around the room, noted all the eyes looking to see what he would say and do, and then looked the president in the eyes and said, “Mr. President, I am afraid that I will not be able to follow that order because I believe such an order is not in the best interests of the United States and our allies. I beg of you, sir, to reconsider and allow me and the Chiefs to come up with additional options to address this crisis.”

  President Wolfe’s chest was gripped with an almost unbearable tightness as he struggled to walk around the large conference table towards the Secretary of Defense who stood parade ground straight at attention waiting for the president’s reaction. The president stopped within inches of the former Marine, looked down at the older, shorter man and spoke with a voice overcome with emotion and filled with a sanctimonious rage. “Did I just hear you correctly, Secretary Mahler? Are you ignoring a direct order from your Commander-in-Chief?”

  Eyes never wavering, Mahler looked up with his grayish blue eyes and said, “That’s affirmative, sir. We have a global crisis on our hands, and this order risks war with both the Chinese and the Russians, let alone the potential ramifications if the North Koreans were able to shoot off several missiles. The risk is simply too great, sir.”

  “Fine. You’re fired too. Now get the hell out. Both you and Stetson get the hell out of here.”

  Quickly turning towards the National Security Advisor, the president blurted out, “Wright, you’re my new Secretary of Defense. Will you give the orders?”

  The former Special Operations officer didn’t hesitate and answered, “To defend this country, you’re damn right I’ll give that order, sir.”

  Outraged by what he was witnessing, General Duncan immediately barked out, “And I will refuse to give that order, sir. It is an illegal order and violates the chain of command.”

  Wolfe, sensing the room was shifting decisively against him, reacted defensively and said, “What the hell are you talking about, General? I’m the president and your Commander-in-Chief, General Mahler refused to comply, so now you have a new boss, General Wright. There’s your goddamned chain of command.”

  Attorney General Archer Stetson was so nervous that he was sweating through his suit, but he had the courage to stand up and say, “General Duncan is quite correct, sir. You can’t fire Secretary Mahler just to secure a nuclear release order. There are laws in place that govern even you, sir.”

  “I thought that I told you that you’re fired. Now, get the hell out of the room. Secret Service, escort both of these men out of the room.”

  When four of the agents hesitated, the president screamed, “I mean now! Get these bastards the hell out of the room, now!”

  While this drama was playing out, an uncharacteristically mute Baxter Davis was overcome with paralysis. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to do. Things were unraveling in a way that he didn’t think possible. For a man who always saw himself as the great puppeteer, always in control, always knowing he could do it better than anyone else, he found that when it counted the most, all he could do was sit there glassy-eyed…useless.

  Vice President Martha Brentwood had been waiting for the right moment, and her timing could not have been more dramatic as she held up both her hands and boldly declared, “Mr. President, I have seen enough and am invoking section 4 of the 25th Amendment. You are clearly not in command of your faculties and no longer able to discharge the powers of this office and are hereby relieved of your duties as President. I am assuming the powers and duties as the acting president effective immediately.

  You may now retire to the Executive Residence. The Secret Service agents present in the room are ordered to escort President Wolfe out of the bunker . . . NOW!”

  Feeling as if he had just been slapped across the face, Wolfe looked around the room with an incredulous expression on his face that soon turned red with anger. He quickly recovered, strode across the room and squared off with Martha Brentwood, speaking with a venomous disgust. “What is this, some type of sick joke, Martha? Who the hell do you think you are that you think you can just get rid of me? I’m the goddamned President of the United States.”

  Martha Brentwood felt more alive than at any other moment in her life and without even realizing it poked Wolfe square in the chest and said, “The only thing that is sick around here is you, Douglas. We can all see it. And I don’t think that I’ll be going anywhere, thank you very kindly.”

  Wolfe wasn’t expecting Brentwood to come right back at him and started scanning the room looking for some support and saw LaHue, Wright, and Davis just sitting there unsure of what to do. The power in him started to waver, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He looked at his Chief of Staff and said, “Baxter, this is bullshit, right? She just can’t come in here and do this, right?”

  Before Davis could answer, Attorney General Archer Stetson cut in, “You are quite correct Mr. President, she would need eight signatures from members of your cabinet and deliver that document to the President Pro-tem of the Senate and the Speaker of the House.”

  With a smug look on his face, Wolfe said, “Well, Martha, what do you say to that?”

  Without once breaking eye contact, Martha Brentwood reached into her jacket inside pocket and with an expression just short of a smile handed to a dumbfounded Wolfe a document which he unfolded and saw nine signatures, including several from those sitting in this room.

  “I’m sorry, Douglas, but it had to be done. You’re not well. You need some rest. It’s all going to work out.”

  “This can’t be right, can’t be legal. Two of the signatures aren’t even valid. I fired Mahler and Stetson, so they don’t count.”

  “Oh, Douglas, they signed the letter in advance an hour before the meeting. I had it time stamped. After you arrested poor Elliot, it was obvious that you are not yourself and need a rest. Most of the cabinet felt the same way. Really, it’s better this way.”

  Suddenly overcome with a powerful wave of fatigue and a bitter taste of bile building in his throat, Wolfe actually staggered back several steps shaking his head in utter disbelief. Many in the room would not make eye contact, including the Treasury Secretary, Stanley Mueller, who had known Wolfe for twenty years. No one knew what to say. Mueller finally offered up, “Douglas, I’m sorry but Martha’s right. You need to rest. You have been through more than any one man could handle.”

  The one man completely unmoved by the raw emotion sweeping the room was the Secretary for Homeland Security, Travis LaHue, who stood up and defiantly declared, “This sure as hell feels like some type of coup of some kind. Come on now, this isn’t right.”

  General Wright also jumped in and added, “I don’t know what type of game you’re playing Martha, but I for one won’t allow this unprecedented usurpation of power to just happen. Now, I for one intend to …”

  With a strong voice and a confident tone, M
artha Brentwood cut the general off, “General Wright, this is hardly a game. And how dare you accuse me of something underhanded after I just watched you willing to risk the lives of millions of people with a preemptive nuclear strike. And you accuse me of playing a game, sir? I don’t think so. And while we’re at it, you may address me as Madam Acting President. Is that clear?”

  With those words, Acting President Brentwood calmly walked towards Wolfe, placed her hand on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze and then continued towards the seat normally occupied by the president. She sat down and watched as Wolfe slowly shook his head in disbelief and walked dejectedly out of the room. All eyes followed the man who loomed larger than life for so many but had clearly reached his own breaking point.

  Just as he was about to leave, a flicker of life hit him. A man who was known as a fighter his entire life could not simply let this happen to him without a fight. As he clasped the handle on the door he turned his head and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Martha, this isn’t over, not by a long shot, so don’t get too comfortable in that chair.”

  Then he added, “Baxter are you coming or what?” Baxter dejectedly gathered some papers and slinked out of the Situation Room behind the president.

  Acting President Martha Brentwood ignored Wolfe’s last remark, looked out at the assembled National Security Council, and spoke with authority. “Let’s get down to business, Secretary Mahler. I need you and the Chiefs to get me some options short of nuclear war. Can we start there? Oh, and can someone find Elliot? I think we will be needing our Secretary of State in the coming days.”

  A resounding, “Yes, Ma’am” was his response.

  Chapter Fifty Two

  November 3rd

  CNN Newsbreak

  “…in what can only be described as earth-shattering news, CNN is confirming rumors floating around the Capitol overnight that President Douglas Wolfe was temporarily removed from office by the now Acting President Martha Brentwood, who if the legal scholars advising this program are correct have determined that we now have the first female president in American history, but for how long is anyone’s guess at this point.

  “Let’s bring in noted legal scholar and professor at Georgetown Law School, Jameson Tierney. Professor Tierney, thank you for joining us. Can you describe for our viewers the somewhat arcane and never-before-used section of the 25th Amendment that has led to this situation?”

  The salt-and-pepper-haired bespectacled professor of Constitutional Law certainly looked the part of an academic with his slightly mussed up hair and stereotypical elbow patches on his jacket. When he answered, he spoke in a manner that was little different than his lecture style, heavy on detail and with a bit of a flat tone. “I am not sure that I would use the term arcane. However you are correct that section 4 of the 25th Amendment has in fact never been used before and was only included to cover the most extraordinary of situations in which a sitting President is deemed unable to fulfill the duties of office.

  The significance of this provision is that section four can only be triggered if the president’s own cabinet and vice president act to remove him or her from office. However, it also includes provisions that allow the former President to challenge this action. Then, it goes to Congress.”

  The silver-bearded familiar face of CNN followed up with his next question, “So, Professor Tierney if I understand this correctly, then this becomes a political issue if the members of both Houses need to make the ultimate determination?”

  “That is quite correct. We now know that President Wolfe has formally challenged the Acting President’s actions with official letters to the Speaker of the House and President Pro-tem of the Senate. Acting President Brentwood has resubmitted the cabinet’s joint declaration challenging the president’s mental capacity to effectively discharge the duties of the office. Congress must meet within forty-eight hours to determine who is, in fact, the president of the United States. As I noted earlier, this is truly extraordinary and without precedent. What will happen is anyone’s guess.”

  White House Executive Residence

  Wolfe’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. His emotions ranged from unrestrained fury to one of dark depression. The first lady was still away from the White House, and the only people with him were a handful of his former campaign team, including Baxter Davis and several of his top lieutenants. They, too, had been up much of the night, and the entire group seemed quite dispirited. Mugs of coffee, orange juice, and an assortment of half-eaten brunch items from bagels to sandwiches littered a large kitchen table. CNN played in the background, and the overall atmosphere was grim.

  An agitated Douglas Wolfe yelled at a nearby aide to “Shut that damn thing off. We got work to do.” Then he left the room and dramatically slammed the door.

  Everyone was looking for Baxter Davis to take the lead as his Chief of Staff to come up with a plan of action, but he was a hollow shell of himself, and it was actually Wolfe’s Social Media Director, Stefan Measly, who increasingly took the lead as the morning now turned into the afternoon. It was Measly’s social media blueprint that was critical to Wolfe’s surprise election victory and a driving force of the unconventional, take no prisoners style of Wolfe’s Presidency, until now.

  The prematurely balding thirty-three-year-old Wolfe fanatic from Lansing, Michigan had the well-deserved reputation for being both ruthless and relentless in helping Wolfe achieve his nationalist vision for the country. The digital world was his domain, and that was where he spent most of the night and early morning working up the millions of Wolfe supporters across the nation.

  Quickly mobilizing a host of social media resources that the campaign maintained off the books, Measly had his team of social media strategists assembled by midnight in a relatively nondescript office building in Fairfax, VA churning out outrage to Wolfe’s millions of devoted supporters.

  As far as Measly was concerned, there had been a coup. The people’s voice had been taken away, and he was calling out the legions of Wolfe activists to hit the streets and begin the protests. Wolfe had already made two short video messages to his strident followers and in dozens of cities across the country by mid-morning people were disrupting traffic and creating chaos.

  Meanwhile, he was organizing the online world of Wolfe trolls to swamp every Republican establishment figure warning them what would happen if they stabbed President Wolfe in the back.

  Measly was threatening a revolution, and more than a few senators and congressional reps were already taking heed. Wolfe’s followers voted and the threat of a sweeping loss to Democrats in this year’s midterm election was beginning to have an effect as several voices started making statements and appearing in Conservative media attacking the circumstances of Wolfe’s temporary removal from office.

  Meanwhile, Wolfe had just finished taking a steaming hot shower and could feel his head starting to clear. He quickly dried off and started getting dressed to meet with his personal legal team who just added two Constitutional scholars to his payroll when his iPhone started vibrating and he saw it was Dutch again. This was his sixth text of the morning.

  “Goddamnit Douglas enough of this shit, now take my call. We need to talk.”

  Fuck you Dutch. You skipped out on me when I needed you. Backstabbing son of a bitch. Should have known better to put a friend on as my Chief of Staff. And now what do I got? Mr. All-Dick-and-no-Balls Baxter Davis who can’t do shit when I really need someone. At least I got that little weasel Measly. He’s a cocksucker, but he’s my cocksucker.

  Then to his surprise, he started laughing for the first time in quite some time. On the other side of the door, several of his staffers heard the laughter and didn’t know if it was a good sign or if Wolfe was starting to crack up.

  Senator Mitchum’s Senate Office

  The loud and profane voice of the eighty-three-year-old former Navy pilot reverberated throughout the relatively small office afforded a senior senator. “Do you mean to fucking tell
me that you’re starting to lose half the goddamn sack that I used to give you credit for carrying around, you pansy piece of shit? I just saw your bullshit appearance on Fox News twenty minutes ago. What the fuck are you doing?!”

  The former combat veteran from Arkansas was not usually a man to easily allow someone to give him a dressing down, but his hesitant tone and halting manner only made him come across even weaker as he said, “Now John, wait a minute, I think you’re jumping the gun here. All I said was that we need to think mighty hard before looking to overturn an election. And if you would…”

  “Stop right the fuck there, Senator Feathers. Don’t say another bullshit word. Your boy Wolfe was about to launch a nuclear fucking attack against the North Koreans with the Chinese and Russian navy barreling down at our fleet. If that isn’t grounds for what Martha did then what the fuck is? Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Senator David Feathers tried to get a word in edgewise and finally said, “Now we don’t know that for sure, John. It’s probably just another piece of left-wing fake news to make the party look bad. All I was trying to…”

  Mitchum cut him off again and roared into the phone, “If I hear that dumbass phrase ‘fake news’ again I swear to Christ I’ll shoot the next son of a bitch who says it to me. Now look hear, shit for brains, I know we are about to get clobbered on Tuesday, but none of that matters if we are in the middle of a shooting war that includes nukes. Have some fucking balls and do the right thing - not for your party, but for the country. Martha is sharp as a tack and more than fit enough to lead the country. Get behind her because if you don’t, I swear that I will personally kick the shit out of you and have one of my intern’s video the whole thing. Got it?”