Executive Intent

by Dale Brown

  “More information on that incident in the Gulf of Aden.” When he noticed Vice President Phoenix’s quizzical expression, he explained quickly: “The Reagan went to battle stations after one of its search-and-rescue helicopters went down.”

  “What…?”

  “Go on, Conrad,” the president ordered irritably.

  “Soon after the second helicopter went down, three emergency satellite beacons were detected. One belonged to the life raft dropped by the first helicopter. We assume it was activated by the rescue swimmer when he saw the second chopper go down.”

  “Makes sense. What about the others?”

  “They belonged to the crewmembers of that bomber that was shot down.”

  “So there were survivors!” Phoenix said.

  “The rescue swimmer could’ve activated the beacons on the victims’ life vests,” Carlyle pointed out. “There’s more. The position of the three beacons stayed constant for about fifteen to twenty minutes, and then they were lost…at approximately the same time as the Reagan’s radar plane detected the unidentified helicopter come in from the west.”

  “An unidentified helicopter…?” Phoenix exclaimed.

  Gardner ignored him. “Lost? You mean, shut off?”

  “Military locator beacons are designed so they can be shut off, to avoid crews being tracked by enemy searchers in an escape-and-evasion situation,” Carlyle said. “But EPIRBs carried on ships or life rafts are designed to stay on until the battery runs out, which could be for several days. It’s seawater-activated, waterproof, and designed to float, but if it’s submerged deeper than thirty feet, the signal can’t be heard.”

  “So the beacons came on and stayed steady until an unidentified helicopter came in from the west,” Phoenix summarized for himself, “when at that time the beacons were cut off? Sounds to me like whoever was in that helicopter had something to do with that. Was anything found at the last location of those beacons? Rafts? Bodies? Wreckage? Anything?”

  “No, sir, nothing,” Carlyle replied. “When the Navy patrol plane came back after turning away from the Putin carrier group, it orbited the last position for an hour until the first rescue helicopter came back, but found nothing.”

  “A patrol plane flew toward the Putin?” Phoenix asked. “You mean, chasing the unidentified helicopter?” He looked at the president with a stunned expression. “It was a Russian helicopter?”

  “We don’t know that, Ken,” the president said, rubbing his eyes wearily. “We’re making a lot of assumptions here, and we could be screwing ourselves up. We don’t know the identities of any of those other aircraft except our own.”

  “What other aircraft, sir?” Phoenix asked.

  “The Hawkeye tracked a fast-moving aircraft in the area just before the Navy rescue helicopter went down,” Carlyle said. “No idea what it was, where it came from, or where it went.”

  “It sounds like the Russians attacked the rescue helicopter, then sent one of its helicopters to pick up the survivors,” Phoenix said. “That’s madness! That’s an act of murder and piracy!”

  “We don’t know shit, Ken,” the president said. “All this happened within the last thirty to sixty minutes half a world away. The story will change a dozen times in the next sixty minutes.”

  “Sir, we’ve got to confront the Russians with what we know and what we suspect,” the vice president said. “Lives are at stake. Those bomber crewmen and the Navy diver could be in the hands of the Russians.”

  “It’s being handled, Ken,” President Gardner said, longing to get back upstairs to the victory party. He looked at his vice president, thought for a moment, then: “Maybe you’re right, Ken,” he said, nodding. “I’ll meet with the entire national security team in the morning, get the latest updates, then rattle Truznyev’s cage. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Phoenix nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll make a few calls to the Reagan commander and get up to speed. Sorry I wasn’t here for the briefing.”

  “That’s okay,” the president said. “But if I’m going to chair this status meeting tomorrow, I’m going to need you to fill in for me.”

  “Fill in, sir?”

  “I have three campaign stops scheduled in Chicago and Milwaukee for tomorrow,” the president said. “I’ll stay in Washington, get the update, and brief the Press Corps myself on what happened and what we know. I’ll have you fill in for me in Wisconsin, then we’ll blow the doors off the place by appearing together in Chicago.” He nodded to his chief of staff. “Set it up, will you, Walter? I’m heading back upstairs. Good night, all. Thank you.”

  The president, chief of staff, and national security adviser departed the Oval Office, leaving Ken Phoenix by himself. He stood motionless for several long moments; then, as if accepting an unwelcome fate he had seen coming for quite some time, he went over to the president’s desk and picked up the phone. “This is the vice president,” he spoke. “Get me President Truznyev of Russia immediately.”

  The president and chief of staff strode through the outer office of the West Wing, heading for the stairs to the residence. As they passed the chief secretary’s desk, she put her phone on hold and called out, “Excuse me, Mr. Kordus?”

  He stopped and looked quizzically at her. President Gardner called out over his shoulder, “I’ll meet you upstairs, Walter,” and continued on with a wave of his hand.

  Kordus went back to the receptionist. “What?” he asked impatiently.

  “Sir, the vice president is still in the Oval Office,” she said, “and he just asked to speak with the president of Russia!”

  Kordus’s face went blank, and then his mouth dropped open in shock. “Call the president, now, and cancel Phoenix ’s request to talk with Truznyev!” he shouted, running back to the Oval Office.

  President Gardner strode into the Oval Office a few minutes later, finding the vice president and Chief of Staff Walter Kordus standing next to the president’s desk. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked. “What are you still doing here, Ken?”

  “The vice president put in a call to President Truznyev from the Oval Office, sir,” Kordus said. “I canceled it.”

  “What?” Gardner thundered. “You asked to speak with the president of Russia, without my permission, from my office? Are you insane, Ken? That’s a criminal offense! You can be impeached for that! What-”

  The phone rang, and Kordus picked it up. “Yes…? Oh, Christ…” He put the call on hold and turned to Gardner. “President Truznyev. Wants to know why the vice president called him and then canceled the call.”

  “Tell him it was a mistake.”

  “Insists on talking to you, sir.”

  Gardner ’s furious eyes impaled Phoenix with burning lances of anger, and he snatched the phone out of Kordus’s hand and hit the “CALL” button. “President Truznyev? President Gardner here…it was a mistake, Mr. President, a miscommunication…no, it was not some sort of tactic…yes, I mean to find out right now.” He put the call on hold again. “Well, Phoenix? What the hell were you going to talk with Truznyev about?”

  “I was going to tell him that we know about the netrusion activity from Socotra Island that damaged a Kingfisher satellite,” the vice president said.

  “Dammit, Phoenix, I told you I was going to confront him with that tomorrow…!”

  “I was also going to tell him that we know the Russian military intelligence bureau captured the operative that planted the sensor that discovered the netrusion activity,” Phoenix went on, calmly and very matter-of-factly, “and I was going to warn him that if he didn’t release the operative, the bomber crewmembers, and the Navy rescue swimmer that he captured today immediately, certain powerful nongovernmental groups were going to start destroying Russian bases and ships around the world.”

  “What the hell did you say?” Gardner shouted.

  “I was also going to tell him that we know he has been conspiring with Premier Zhou of China to neutralize American space and seaborne military sy
stems,” Phoenix went on, “and similar attacks would commence against Chinese assets.”

  “Are you insane, Phoenix…?” Gardner shouted. “He’s not going to believe any of this. I don’t believe any of this!”

  “It’s true, sir,” Phoenix said. “You can explain it to him, or I can.” He held out his hand for the phone.

  Gardner gaped in astonishment, first at Phoenix, then at Kordus, then at the phone, then numbly handed the phone to his vice president. “I can’t friggin’ wait to hear this,” he murmured.

  Phoenix took the phone and pressed the “CALL” button. “President Truznyev? This is Vice President Kenneth Phoenix,” he said. “As I just explained to President Gardner, I know about the netrusion attacks against our Kingfisher satellites, the Chinese antisatellite-missile attacks, and Russia shooting down an unarmed rescue helicopter and capturing the bomber crew and rescue swimmer…no, don’t bother denying it, sir, it won’t matter.

  “I told the president that I am in contact with certain powerful nongovernmental groups that demand you release the captives immediately,” he went on. He listened for a moment, then interjected: “Sir, I’m not here to debate the matter. This group is already on the move. The first attack will be against the space tracking site on Socotra Island. The entire facility will be destroyed in”-he glanced at his watch-“well, any moment now. The second attack will occur shortly thereafter against your marine detachment in Aden. The third attack will be against the aircraft carrier Putin in the Gulf of Aden and its escort ships. The attacks will continue until the captives arrive unharmed at the American embassy in Sana’a.”

  Phoenix listened for a moment to the translator’s words. At that moment Kordus’s cellular phone rang, and he answered it. “President Truznyev, this is not a joke,” Phoenix said. “The group is not under anyone’s control here in the White House, I assure you, including myself…yes, sir, I do know the leader’s name.” Gardner ’s eyes grew wide. “His name…is Patrick S. McLanahan.”

  “McLanahan…?”

  “Sir, the consulate in Aden reports a massive ground attack at the harbor,” Kordus said excitedly. “They are saying those manned robots, the Cybernetic Infantry Devices, are tearing the Russian marine detachment facility to pieces! And AFRICOM is reporting a massive air attack near the airport on Socotra Island! The place is getting plastered!”

  “We have just been advised that the attacks are under way in Yemen, Mr. President,” Phoenix said on the phone. “I would get those captives to the embassy right away before your aircraft carrier is hit.” He paused to listen, then said, “I’m just a messenger here, sir-I have no control over retired general McLanahan.”

  Phoenix listened again, then looked directly at President Gardner, put on a slight smile, and said, “No…no, sir, I don’t have a responsibility to stop this, because…I hereby resign as vice president of the United States. I have a duty to uphold the Constitution of the United States and perform my duties under the law, and I find I cannot do either for this president, so I have resigned.” He pulled a letter out of a jacket pocket and dropped it on President Gardner’s desk. “Good day, Mr. President.” And with that, Kenneth Phoenix hung up the phone and walked out of the Oval Office without another word.

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  JANUARY 2013

  “You are going to be there, aren’t you, Patrick?” Ken Phoenix asked. He was in a limousine driving down Pennsylvania Avenue heading toward Constitution Avenue in the nation’s capital on a surprisingly temperate January morning, talking on a secure cell phone, holding his wife’s hand, his two children watching the sights of the capital from the front of the passenger compartment. “You said you would.”

  “I said I might, sir,” Patrick McLanahan corrected him. “But we looked at the situation and decided against it. Sorry. Besides, I think I’m the last guy you’d want to be seen with right now.”

  “Nonsense…but I understand,” Phoenix said. “You did say you’d try. How’s Gia?”

  “Out of the hospital and right here with me,” Patrick replied.

  “And Macomber?”

  “Still in the hospital, but if he doesn’t leave the nurses alone, they’re likely to toss him out no matter what the doctors say.”

  “Still wish you could be here for this thing, General,” Phoenix said.

  “It wasn’t going to happen,” Patrick said. “The last thing anyone expected was for Truznyev to go public with the whole thing. I became public enemy number one in an instant. President Gardner had no choice but to indict me.”

  “It’s going nowhere, believe me,” Phoenix said. “We’ve got the best defense attorneys waiting in the wings, but their services won’t be needed.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “In the meantime, not a hell of a lot else has changed,” Phoenix went on. “ China has practically taken over Somalia -they’ve made a basing deal with the northern Somali province of Puntland to improve port facilities on the Gulf of Aden in exchange for missile-basing rights. Both Russia and China are building aircraft carriers like crazy. Russia stopped supporting resupply missions to the International Space Station and are resupplying the Chinese Tiangong military space station instead. Allies are either arguing with us or turning their backs. It’s a mess. And I don’t have my favorite general by my side advising me.”

  “I’ll always be there, sir,” Patrick said.

  “But you should be where you deserve to be-right up there with me,” Phoenix said.

  “I thought about it and talked it over with Gia for a long time,” Patrick said, “and we decided what I knew all along: I’m just not a politician. I couldn’t make it as a lobbyist, private military contractor, defense-contractor exec, or industry advocate either. I guess I’ll always be just a flyboy.”

  “You’re a leader, that’s what you are, my friend,” Phoenix said. “Always will be. That’s what we need in Washington.”

  “I don’t know, sir. Lots of fun things happening at Sky Masters again, and my son likes his school.”

  “I know, Patrick,” Phoenix said. “But Bradley is a tough Air Force brat, and Washington is good for kids. I have a feeling you’ll be back soon. When things settle down, let’s sit down and talk.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Patrick said. “Good luck, sir.”

  “Thanks, Patrick. You take care, General. See you soon.” And he hung up.

  A short time later, the limousine arrived at the East Portico of the Capitol Building, amid tight security keeping back thousands of cheering onlookers. Phoenix and his family were met by Dr. Ann Page, and they embraced, which only energized the crowd even more. “You ready to do this thing, Madam Vice President?” Phoenix asked.

  “You bet I am, Mr. President,” Ann replied. “Let’s do it.” Taking each other’s hand, with Phoenix taking his wife’s hand and Ann taking Phoenix ’s daughter’s hand, they ascended the east steps of the Capitol.

  Once through the Columbus Doors and into the Rotunda, they met with several of the distinguished guests who would be in attendance for the oath of office on the West Portico of the Capitol: several former defense secretaries and chiefs of staff, plus former vice president Les Busick and former presidents Thomas Thorn and Kevin Martindale and their families. After they greeted each other, they proceeded across the Rotunda to the West Portico.

  Ann embraced Ken one last time before she walked out. “I’m so scared,” she admitted as they embraced.

  “I am, too, Ann,” Ken said. “But we’re it now.”

  She stepped back and smiled. “Damn right we are, Mr. President,” she said. “Damn right.”

  Phoenix took his wife’s and son’s hands while his wife held their daughter’s, and they waited for their cue to emerge onto the West Portico. They could hear the roaring crowd outside and feel the unusual January warmth through the doors.

  Holy God help me, he thought as he smiled at the sunshine and listened to the cheering crowd…I’m it.

  HENDERSON, NEVADA


  THAT SAME TIME

  Patrick McLanahan put his arm around Gia, and she snuggled closer to him-until he tightened his arm too much across her back, causing her to wince in pain. “Sorry, sweetie,” he said. “Didn’t mean it. Still sore, huh?”

  “That’s okay, lover,” Gia Cazzotta said. She snuggled closer, and he kept his arm safely on the back of the couch. Patrick’s son, Bradley, looked over at his dad’s girlfriend in concern. “That was Ken?”

  “Yes.” They were watching the inauguration of Kenneth Phoenix on television from McLanahan’s condo south of Las Vegas. “He still wants me in Washington.”

  “You just talked with the new president, Dad?” Bradley asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Cool.”

  “He wants to talk about going back to Washington, Brad,” Patrick said. “How about it? Feel like going back to Washington again for a while?”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” Bradley said. “I’ll be on the varsity squad next year, and…and…”

  “You forgot about Heather, Dad,” Gia reminded him with a smile.

  “Who?”

  “Dad…”

  “The cheerleader?”

  “No!”

  “That was last month, Patrick,” Gia said.

  “She’s my lab partner,” Bradley said. “We’re building that telescope. Remember? Can we leave after the school year’s out?”

  “We’ll talk about it,” Patrick said.

  At that moment Central Intelligence Agency senior scientific programs analyst Timothy Dobson came into the room, his face wearing a smile but his body language saying otherwise. “Hey, Timothy,” Gia greeted him, “come to watch the inauguration with us?”

  “Sure,” Dobson said.

  But Patrick studied his face and immediately got up and walked him into the kitchen. “What’s up, Tim?” he asked.

  “The FBI picked up on another team that came through McCarran International today,” the CIA assistant director said in a low voice. “Both Ukrainian nationals. Registered in the consulate as employment and training consultants for the Ukrainian government, but verified by the CIA as Russian Federal Security Bureau agents. It’s the second team to come through this area in a week.” Patrick looked over at his son with Gia, enjoying the pageantry of a presidential inauguration. “I’m sorry, General, but the Agency says it’s a high probability you’ve been targeted by the FSB. We’ve got to relocate you.”