The room upstairs was, as it had been for decades, one of the most sophisticated control centers in the world. It was not large, about two hundred square feet. There were several people sitting at their stations, monitoring secure and regular communications.
The President, Susanna, and the assistant chief of staff sat on a couch in one corner, looking at the screens. On one screen was John Van Dyke. On another was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Mike McGuiness. On a third was Admiral Boyle, secretary of the Navy.
“He wants to talk to you,” Van Dyke said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” the President asked.
“It’s too easy. You can’t just hijack a boat and get to speak with the president.”
“For God’s sake, John, it’s not a boat. It’s a ship with almost three thousand people on it. Isn’t that good enough to talk to me?”
McGuiness spoke up. “Mr. President, I think John is right. If we give in now to this demand, it will appear weak.”
“So what do we do?” the President asked.
“I think we stall as long as we can and see if we can overtake them.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Sir, we have the best snipers in the country only about an hour away now. They will soon be on those tugs surrounding the ship, and if there is any way humanly possible of getting them, these guys can do it.”
“What about the explosives?” the President asked.
“That’s what they say, but all satellite data at this time show none of that. If they lined the ship with what they’re claiming, I think we would know.”
“Are you sure?”
The general paused. “I can say ninety percent.”
“Not good enough,” the President said. “If you’re wrong and they kill all those people, it won’t be worth keeping me from having a conversation.”
Van Dyke had an idea. “Sir, you’re landing in an hour. Let’s see if we can stall until you get to the White House.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Mr. President,” McGuiness said. “In the meantime, the SEALs can get sophisticated equipment under the ship that can detect explosives with ninety-nine percent accuracy.” The President looked unhappy.
“What am I hearing? How many trillions of dollars do you people need to get me to a hundred percent?” No one answered. “Okay. I would rather have the conversation from the White House anyway. It would be less dramatic for the American people than having me talk from the plane. Tell him I am on my way back to Washington and I will speak to him when I get there. If he thinks that will happen, then hopefully we’ll buy more time. But if you can’t assure me without any doubt that they won’t blow this thing up, I am telling you now I am going to speak to this guy.”
“I understand,” the general said. “We will tell him what you said and make him think that a conversation is imminent. I’ll keep you posted every few minutes on any changes, and I look forward to seeing you here, sir.”
“That’s fine, General. John, are we in sync?”
“Yes, sir.”
And with that the President got up and walked downstairs. He asked the steward to make him a mushroom omelet. He went back to his office and told Susanna to come with him. When they were inside, he shut the door and locked it. “People forget to knock in an emergency, I don’t like that. Are you hungry?”
“I ate.”
“What do you think I should do?”
Susanna sat in one of the big chairs opposite his desk. She was surprised by the direct question. Bernstein talked to her about everything, personal issues and work and life, but this was the first time he had asked her opinion on a national security crisis. She was flattered and a little uncomfortable. She also knew John Van Dyke would be furious if he ever thought that her opinion had been factored into the President’s decision. Susanna thought carefully before she answered. “If it were me, I would talk to him. If the worst happens and you never do, you can be blamed for not trying. And if you do and the worst happens anyway, at least you made an attempt. That’s my two cents.”
“I’m crazy about you.” The President just blurted it out.
That was the first time he had come close to saying he loved her. She had no immediate response. She couldn’t think of a reply. Several were swirling around in her head. “Me, too” almost came out, but sounded trite and too forward, so that was edited. “I’m flattered” sounded too formal and too distant. While she was thinking, he got up and walked over and put his hands on her face. He kissed her. Not long and passionate, but on the lips and lasting more than five seconds. She wound up saying nothing. She put her head on his shoulder and they stood there as if they were slow dancing without moving.
A loud buzzer on the President’s desk broke them apart, and when he went to answer it, she mouthed, “I’m going back to my seat,” and blew him a little kiss. Then she forgot the door was locked and pulled on it until the President motioned for her to release the bolt. She felt like an idiot.
When she got back to her seat, she was lightheaded. This was where it was leading now, that was apparent. The one thing she didn’t want was for them to become awkward. But it was just a kiss, not enough that everything had to change. At least that’s what she was hoping. She would continue to be there when he needed her and to be the same person, but whatever was going to happen, it obviously had already started.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Even though there were at least six hours left on the speed patch, Max Leonard pulled down his pants and put on another one on the opposite thigh. He could feel his teeth grinding, but he needed all of the artificial energy he could get now. He paced on the bridge waiting for an answer. As he was rehearsing what he would say to the President of the United States, a voice came on the speaker. “Mr. Leonard, this is General McGuiness.”
“Where’s the President?”
“First of all, would you please allow visuals again? We can accomplish more if we can see each other.”
“No. I don’t want to see you. This was good enough for hundreds of years; there’s no reason to see each other. Where is the President? I will look at him only.”
“The President is on his way back to the White House. He was in Denver. He should be there within two hours.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s en route. I believe they are still in the air.”
“I want to talk to him now. I don’t want to wait two hours.”
McGuiness had his story prepared and was about to see if it would fly. “There is something wrong with the satellite that lets us see the President in the air. It has to do with the sun and the time of year. There is no consistent visual with him until he gets to the White House, so we’re going to have to wait.” Max was livid.
“You are fucking kidding me! You’re out of touch with the President because of the sun? What do you think, that I’m five years old?”
“Mr. Leonard, there are some things that are out of our control. There is only one way to have a solid visual with the President when he is in the air, and right now that is being disturbed. I could not see him myself, but all that will be restored when he returns to the White House.”
“And how long will that be?”
“It should be under two hours.”
Max thought a moment. He had a few options. He could bluff and tell them he wouldn’t wait, or he could ask to speak with the President using voice only, but he didn’t want that. It had always been his plan to look Bernstein in the eye. He knew that this conversation would make its way around the world, and the best way to succeed was to have a one-on-one, face-to-face, with the President of the United States. Anything short of that would not accomplish his goal.
The second speed patch was now kicking in and it made him feel invulnerable. “I’ll wait until he is at the White House, but if there’s any more delay you can say good-bye to the people on this ship. Is that clear?”
“I hear you,” the general said
. “Are you sure you cannot speak to me? I have great authority, you know.”
“You’re nothing, General. Even the President is weak, but you have no power without him. But there is one thing you can arrange. When my conversation with the President is over I will want a helicopter to take me and my group, along with five hostages of our choosing, to Cuba. When we land there safely you can fly the hostages back. So you might as well plan for that now.”
This was the first time anyone had heard that demand. McGuiness was impressed. If these guys could get to Cuba they would be heroes. And even though over the decades the relationship with Cuba had softened somewhat, there was still no extradition and there was still no love for America. The Cubans would take these men and allow them to escape with their lives, and that would create even more problems. McGuiness acted as though he didn’t understand the demand. “I’m sorry, what are you requesting?”
“Play the fucking transcript back if you didn’t hear me. I want the chopper to land on the boat before my conversation with the President. And if you try anything foolish … well, you’ll probably kill me, but I will definitely take every last person on this ship down with me. Is that clear, General?”
McGuiness had no more negotiations up his sleeve. All of this would buy him at least two hours, which was enough time to try to end this the military’s way. “Yes. It’s clear.”
* * *
Laura Li and her husband were watching this unfold like every other person in the United States and in most of the world. A crisis like this was like a worldwide police chase; everyone watched it in real time, glued to their screens of all sizes, waiting to see what would happen next.
They were still in bed, looking up at the ceiling. The projector in their bedroom would put visuals wherever they wanted, and Shen and Laura had found that their favorite position was lying on their backs, staring straight up. It was like looking at the stars. They loved the holographic video of a planetarium show, which was even more fun after a little hit of the organic weed grown on their windowsill. They’d probably watched that at least twenty times, making love and getting lost in the colors and the depth.
As they watched the hijacking unfold, Shen was a bit surprised by how angry it made him. “Do you know the last time this kind of thing happened in China?”
“No,” Laura said.
“Never. It would never happen and if it did, it would never get this far. Those men would be dead.”
“What about the people on the boat?”
“This is going to sound harsh, honey, but the people on that boat are less important than giving the people who are holding them worldwide attention. In the overall scheme of things, if you stop this in its tracks—if people who are prone to this behavior know that not only will they never survive, but they won’t even get an audience—this kind of thing will go away. Nobody will do this if they can’t find the reward in it.”
Laura smiled. “You know, it’s funny, the way you say that. It’s almost exactly what my father says. He believes in tolerance, only up to a point.”
“That’s because he’s brilliant, and I’m lucky that I fell in love with his brilliant daughter.”
They turned off the crisis footage and put on Niagara Falls. Shen loved this video, too. Niagara Falls was one of the few places on earth where the water showed no indication of drying up. Glaciers were dying, the Himalayas looked bare, but Niagara was still as forceful as ever. And they could almost feel the water as they watched the falls pour down from the ceiling. “We have to go there one day and see it for real,” Shen said.
“I’ve been there, darling. Believe me, this is better.”
* * *
The twenty-five hundred residents of The Sunset were fed, which helped them calm down somewhat. One of the advantages of old age was that the threat of dying was a bit less scary to them than to those who had not experienced a long life. But also the vibe in the dining room did not feel as if they were about to be killed. They believed that if Max Leonard could talk to the President, this would work out. “I wonder what he wants?” one of the older women asked her friend.
“Money. Everyone wants money.”
“How much would they pay for us?”
“Nothing. Who would pay for us? What are we worth?”
Someone else said, “But they don’t want the ship ruined. How much do you think the ship cost? Wouldn’t the ship company pay a lot of money so they don’t blow it up?”
That made sense and many of the people who heard it suddenly felt encouraged. They knew they were not worth a lot, but the ship certainly was.
And conversations continued like that all throughout the dining room. Some people weren’t that concerned; they were just uncomfortable and didn’t want to wait in the line for the bathrooms, a line that was now stretching around the corner and into one of the kitchens. And to make matters worse, one of the toilets had stopped up, so not only was there a long line, but the smell was horrible. People weren’t used to that here.
Brad Miller made his way over to Walter Masters. He noticed an empty seat next to him and asked if he could sit down. “It’s fine with me,” Walter said. “The guy went to the bathroom, but he hasn’t been back for an hour.”
Brad really liked Walter. They had played cards often and he liked Walter’s sense of humor, which he considered to be a mixture of playful and dark. He could never get over the fascination of what Walter did to allow people a dignified death. He thought it was so noble. “Are you worried?”
“I’m not unworried,” Walter said. “I could think of better ways to spend the afternoon, but there is a bit of adventure in this and that is always somewhat exciting.”
“I agree. As long as it ends okay, then the experience isn’t that bad. It’s going to make for a lot of good stories. How much money do you think they want?”
“I don’t think this is about money.”
“What’s it about?”
Walter smiled. “Well, we’ll see, but I think this young man’s demands are going to be different than what they think.”
“Will they be able to meet them? These demands?”
Walter thought about that for a moment. He wasn’t a man to bullshit and he thought such a good question deserved an honest answer, at least an honest opinion. “No. I don’t think so.”
Now Brad’s mood changed. If the demands were not going to be met, what was the answer? “So what do you think will happen? Will he blow up the ship?”
“I don’t know. I sure hope not.”
At that moment the man who had gone to the toilet came back to his seat. Brad got up and thanked Walter for the chat. “I sure hope you’re wrong,” Brad said.
“I often am.” Walter smiled.
“Wrong about what?” the man asked.
“Nothing,” Walter answered. “Mr. Miller and I were just playing a guessing game.”
As Brad walked back to where Barbara was sitting, Max Leonard appeared once again on the big screen. “I hope you all are comfortable,” he said to his captives. “I am in the process of making contact with the President of the United States. I don’t know how many of you voted for him, but if you did, then you know more than I do whether he will act sensibly and listen to what we have to say. I know that several of you have been communicating with the outside world, telling them what is going on, and quite frankly, that is fine. You might tell them to contact their representatives and convince the President to do what we ask so you all can go back to your comfortable existence. This was never meant to hurt you and it should not hurt you if your government listens to us. When this is over I will leave this ship and you will go on your merry way, hopefully with a new outlook and a new appreciation of the generations that are following you. That’s all for now.”
And the screen went dark. It didn’t really put anyone at ease, but some of the older folks had to admit that Max was rather charming. And he would have been more so without the two speed patches.
* * *
At around two-thirty, Kathy asked Clyde if she could go home early. “Of course. Absolutely. You’ve had a very, very rough day. I’m sorry if I seemed so worried, Kathy, I just know how publicity can help or hurt a business and I didn’t know what this would do, but it’s obvious you’re innocent, and I’m so happy you’re here.”
Kathy smiled and gave a halfhearted thank-you.
As she was heading home she couldn’t stop thinking about Max. She was still in love with him. He might have done something stupid, but so many people never do anything at all. At least he was trying. Just don’t kill anyone. That’s all she could think. Make your points, but don’t kill anyone and don’t you get killed. She kept saying it to herself as if she could make it come true. But the truth was, she didn’t know how this could end peacefully. She knew Max was not going to sit in prison the rest of his life. That was certain.
All of a sudden her car slammed on its brakes and stopped itself. Kathy came out of her trance and saw that she was driving toward the back of a pickup truck. She’d never been a big fan of cars taking over control from the driver—she always thought it was intrusive—but today it prevented a crash that would have made the afternoon even worse.
When she got to her house she had a message waiting for her. She played it back and watched as Max Leonard talked a mile a minute, licking his lips, looking tired and crazy, but it was still him and she was happy to see his face. “Hi, baby. I love you. I’m sure you know what’s gone down and I want to say to anyone who cares that you had nothing to do with this. You didn’t even know what I was up to for the longest time and I don’t want you blamed by association. I still love you but you are not part of anything that I am doing and it’s important for people to know that.” As Max was about to continue with his rambling someone pulled him away and he finished up by saying, “Gotta go. Love you, baby. Love you so much.”
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