“How are you doing, Mr. President?”
“I don’t want to complain, Clayton, but I had another severe attack last night. Doc Toomay said it’s the new norm, not just an aberration. I’ll need to take stronger pain medications, and that makes it harder to work. I’m not sure I can hold on until the fourteenth. I … if it comes to that, I’m so sorry. But I’ll do what I can to buy you more time.”
Clayton looked at his hands for a moment, unable to face a man apologizing for his own looming death. “Lyman, you … don’t apologize. I wish more than anything that you didn’t have to worry about your job—that you could kill the pain without fear. Look … if it’s too presumptuous of me, I’d like to take you up on your offer right away.”
“Absolutely. How can I help?”
“Here’s the deal, Mr. President, with the geopolitical tsunami in front of us, piecemeal efforts won’t work. I need your help to mobilize our efforts to make it happen. I would like to put forth my strategy before a joint session of Congress on October sixteenth. That means we have about two weeks to create a workable plan. To do it, I’m going to need the help of a lot of high-level people committed to knocking down turf walls and making the impossible happen.”
Burkmeister nodded, motioning for Clayton to continue.
“As a starting point, I’d like to convene the NSC later today to brief them on the Camp David meeting and engage them in developing our new grand strategy. I can’t get this cranked up without your strong endorsement and lead.”
Burkmeister leaned back in his chair and said, “I quite agree with your sense of urgency, and I think the NSC SWAT team’s the appropriate group to engage first.” He paused to think.
“Let me suggest that you host an NSC meeting at your house—later today, if that would work for you. The White House is swarming with reporters who would quickly pick up on a procession of NSC members. That’s attention we don’t need right now. I’ve asked the SWAT team to stick around the area in anticipation of some kind of meeting, given the Saudi crisis, so we’d be able to convene the whole group.
“I’d be happy to invite each of the members personally, if you are agreeable, Clayton. I’ll let them know you are acting with my full authority, and I won’t be too specific about the meeting other than to say it will be urgent and that you have my full support.”
“That would be a huge help, Mr. President. Would you feel up to attending?”
“Physically, I could, but this might be a good opportunity for you to put your own imprimatur on the group. I don’t want them looking over at me for approval—this is your show now, not mine. I’ll tell them when I call that you’re now the president of the United States, for all intents and purposes, and that anything you say or do is done with my authority and blessing. What time could you manage it?”
“Let’s make it four o’clock this afternoon, Mr. President. I’d like Peter Canton to attend as well, but I can make that call myself. If we finish the meeting at a reasonable time, would you like me to call you with the results?”
“Yes, I’d like that, Clayton. Please call me no matter what time the meeting ends. If there are any roadblocks or opposition, let me know and I’ll get on it. By the way, do you intend to bring up the matter of your vice-presidential replacement?”
“Yes, I do plan to cover that—after the meeting, I think. And I will call you with the news, Mr. President. I hope it will be good.”
Clayton left the White House deep in thought. Fifteen days to develop and present the grand strategy to the American people. He got into his limo and made three phone calls that would set the tone for the frenetic schedule of his next two weeks.
“Peter, this is Clayton, how are you doing?”
“Just fine, Mr. Vice-Presi … er, Clayton, how about you?” responded a surprised Peter Canton.
“Peter, I need to see you at my place at four this afternoon. You’ll be joined by members of the NSC SWAT team. Can’t talk about it now, but can you make it?”
“I’ll be there, and mum’s the word,” Peter said.
“Mum most definitely is the word, Peter, and I’ll see you there. By the way, you might want to drive yourself there. No point in tipping off any reporters looking for big black limos.”
His second call was to Maggie.
“Mags, I’m on my way home. I’ll tell you all about my meeting when I get home, but wanted to give you a heads-up that I’ll be having a full NSC meeting at our place at four.”
Maggie, sensing the urgency in Clayton’s voice, said only, “I’ll see you shortly, then, and I’ll make sure the staff here gets the reception hall ready. Should I arrange catering or anything?”
“We’re trying to keep this meeting quiet, so no official catering. But we’re likely to run late tonight—will you see whether we can get sandwiches or something? Thanks. Look, I’ve got to go. See you soon.”
His last call was to Jack, asking his brother to drop by about an hour before the meeting to strategize.
As his limo pulled up to the driveway of his residence, he wondered if the next occupant would feel the same special way about this place as he did. Hopefully he’d find out in the next few hours.
38
Vice President’s Residence
1 October 2017
Clayton was in his den checking recent energy reports on the computer when Jack tapped on the door, walked in, and said cheerfully, “Hi, boss, what’s up?”
“Thanks for coming early,” Clayton replied, a slight edge in his voice. “We have a lot to talk about before the SWAT team arrives.”
“I’m all ears,” Jack said as he poured a cup of coffee and then pulled out his laptop. It was going to be a long evening.
“First of all, the president liked the summary you and Wang Peng put together. He asked a lot of questions and offered a number of good suggestions I’ll share with you.” Clayton found himself jotting down new ideas as he summarized the meeting.
“We’re in an unparalleled crisis,” he continued, “and we need to make clear to the SWAT team that this isn’t business as usual. We’ll need to jolt them out of their comfort zone quickly to foster the breakthrough thinking we need. There’s precious little time for extended debate.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Jack replied, “given the state of things. How do you plan to proceed?”
“The president has already set the tone and tempo for this meeting by personally calling each of them,” Clayton replied. “I plan to make the point as bluntly as I can. I’ll tell them about the meeting at Camp David and the grand plan we need to develop for my address to Congress on the sixteenth. We’ll discuss the CIA report and Peter Canton’s memo on climate-change and then get the discussion going from there.”
“What’s the bottom line for you, Clayton? What do you want the outcome to be when they leave the meeting tonight?”
“Good question. Let’s see … ah, a couple of things: First, I want them to leave with a clear understanding that we are in crisis mode, that we need to throw out the old playbook and deal with this on the run. Second, they need to understand the interconnectedness of the multiple threats facing us and why the grand strategy must deal with all the moving parts. Incremental or piecemeal solutions won’t cut it this time, and that kind of thinking is not easy for folks living inside the Beltway. We’ll call our plan Operation Safe Harbors—I’ll explain the code name later.”
Their discussion continued until Maggie knocked on the door and popped her head in. “Hi, guys. I hate to interrupt, but your guests are starting to arrive. Shall I tell them you’ll be with them shortly?”
“Thanks, Mags,” Clayton responded, frustrated he didn’t have more time with Jack. “Please tell them we’ll join them in about five minutes.”
They quickly tied up a few loose ends, and then Clayton asked, “What do you think, Jack: will this work?”
“I always knew you were an underachiever,” Jack laughingly responded. With that, they left to join the others in th
e reception hall.
“I’d like to thank you for coming on such short notice,” Clayton opened. “I know you’ve talked to the president, by virtue of the fact that you’re here, and I would imagine that he conveyed to you the importance of this meeting.”
He sensed their uneasiness; they were apprehensive about the meeting and struggling to grasp Burkmeister’s declaration that McCarty was now, in effect, the president.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat the crisis we’re in, and I’ll speak with a directness I hope you’ll all emulate tonight. We’re all in the same foxhole, and we don’t have time to decipher the DC doublespeak we sometimes use to smooth over differences.
As you all know, we are facing a combination of threats we can neither stop nor avoid. The Saudi oil crisis will soon destroy the global economy and, in the process, trigger a number of other festering time bombs. The geopolitical environment is fragile: the American economy is ready to implode under the staggering weight of runaway debt and unfunded entitlement liabilities; a climate-change bombshell that we can no longer ignore has revealed itself; and we have a political system and population in denial.
“The American people—and the world, for that matter—will be looking to us for solutions, and Band-Aid approaches won’t cut it any longer. We need a grand strategy to comprehensively attack all of these problems, and we’re going to need it by October sixteenth: the date I plan to present our plan to a joint session of Congress.”
They were stunned. Even the most battle-hardened veterans on the SWAT team resembled terrified deer staring down the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck.
“I have much to share with you tonight, including a debriefing on a secret meeting Jack and I had this weekend at Camp David with Chinese chairman Lin Cheng and his chief of staff Wang Peng. Also …”
“Excuse me, Mr. Vice President,” interrupted Defense Secretary Thompson, “but was this a conference call or an actual face-to-face meeting?”
“It was a face-to-face meeting. I apologize for not bringing all of you into this earlier, but I’m sure you’ll understand why after I explain. Let me start with the big picture, and then we’ll cover the Camp David meeting.” Clayton guessed from Thompson’s expression that he was miffed at being kept out of the loop.
“I met with the president earlier today to review the Camp David meeting, and he likened the situation to the converging elements of a perfect storm. His metaphor is appropriate, and I plan to use it to frame the multiple challenges that need to be addressed in their entirety, as one humongous problem.
“Perfect storm describes our situation to the letter. Think of the colliding forces in play: oil and energy shortages, disastrous new climate trajectories, domestic and global economic systems on the brink of collapse, a growing world population with rising expectations facing chronic water shortages and famine, and geopolitical hotspots ready to erupt. The fuse has been lit by the Saudi embargo, and it could easily set off a chain reaction of catastrophic proportions. In this milieu, it’s difficult to address one set of problems without touching the others; everything’s interrelated.”
Clayton paused to refill his coffee cup and give the team a chance to digest what he had just said.
“Our job,” he continued, “is to develop a grand strategy that addresses the entire tangle of interrelated challenges, with the Saudi crisis as its launch point. That’s the easy part. The hard part is that our plan has to be ready for presentation to the American people in less than two weeks.”
Secretary Thompson could no longer control his anxiety. “Mr. Vice President, this will take months of careful planning—and even then it looks impossible. What do we gain by imposing this impossible deadline?”
“In a perfect world, Thurmond, we’d be able to take our time. But we don’t have the time. The fuse is lit, and already its effects are rippling through the world. According to the CIA report you received, we have less than five months to resolve the crisis before the global economy suffers a complete meltdown. We have no choice.”
In an uncharacteristic interruption, Admiral Coxen interjected, “I can see dealing with the Saudi crisis, Mr. Vice President, but why do we have to deal with everything else at the same time?”
“Here’s the deal, Admiral: while our immediate focus will be geared to the Saudi oil crisis, we would be facing serious challenges even without the Saudi crisis. Just as the Saudi crisis is the catalyst for our perfect storm, it can also be the catalyst for uniting our people behind a grand plan to address the multiple crises we face. We can’t address one challenge effectively without addressing the others, and the grand plan I envision ties it all together in a single strategic construct.”
The admiral nodded as the outlines of McCarty’s vision started to take form.
“Politically speaking, America has let energy, climate-change, the economy, deficit spending, and so much more go on for years without resolution. We knew there were problems, but the political will wasn’t there to make the tough choices required to solve them. Denial was far easier. Unfortunately, the problems intensified over time, and it took only one spark—the Saudi crisis—to send everything up in flames. Payment on our neglected accounts is now coming due—all at the same time, I’m afraid.”
Clayton caught a covert, encouraging wink from Jack, as if he’d whispered, You’re on a roll, buddy, keep pushing. Emboldened, Clayton forged on.
“America has always been at its best in a crisis, but first we have to know that a crisis exists. Imagine trying to tell someone one day before Pearl Harbor that within three years America would have fifteen million trained military in uniform; that we would become the arsenal of democracy by transforming our peacetime economy to a wartime footing; and that we would develop an atomic bomb and still have the financial strength after the war to fund the Marshall Plan to reinvigorate Europe. They wouldn’t have believed you, and I can tell you that it wouldn’t have happened incrementally if Pearl Harbor had never been bombed. Another example: the Soviet Union was eating our lunch in the space race until JFK boldly called for putting a man on the moon by the end of the decade, which we did. The American people believed there was a justifiable emergency in these cases to do the impossible, and that’s just what they did.”
Clayton saw that Elizabeth Cartright was smiling—That’s another person on board, he thought.
“The Saudis have given us our Pearl Harbor. The embargo poses a major threat to the global economy, and it can’t be addressed in a half-assed manner. We’ll use this adversity to galvanize the country in quest of something greater than all of us—a last chance to preserve our way of life and economic freedom. We’ll position it as an all-out effort requiring personal sacrifice, rationing, and the ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ that once drove Britain out of despair.”
Clayton detected rumblings of a new energy and hope in the team … his team. He poured more coffee and continued.
“What I’d like to do now is lay the groundwork for our discussion. Jack and I will start by giving you a rundown on our Camp David meeting with Chairman Lin Cheng and his chief of staff, Wang Peng. I’ll then ask Tony Mullen to review the CIA assessment on the Saudi oil crisis. I should tell you we shared the CIA report with our Chinese guests and they were in almost complete agreement with Tony’s assessment. Then I’ll ask Peter Canton to brief you on his disturbing climate-change memo, which you were all sent a few days ago, and I’ll then say a few words on the economy.”
Clayton paused for questions, but everyone seemed to be scrambling to take notes.
“At the conclusion of these presentations, I’ll ask Admiral Coxen to facilitate a discussion on how we can tie this all together into a strategic plan. It’s going to require your full-time effort for the next couple of weeks, and it’s our number-one national priority. We will use the code name Operation Safe Harbors to describe all efforts related to our grand plan. Think of it in the spirit of our end goal: we face a deadly storm, and we seek a safe harbor to shelter us from
its threats. Corny, perhaps, but it captures the magnitude of the challenge and the effort required to overcome it.”
The SWAT team took their gloves off and, for the next four hours, spoke with a directness seldom heard in Washington. Voices raised and nerves frayed, but they made an enormous amount of paradigm-breaking progress. Sensing that they had accomplished most of what he had hoped they would, Clayton called for a break. He instructed Admiral Coxen to put together a meeting summary, and then asked that they reconvene at nine thirty.
The long overdue break was a welcome respite from the pressure cooker they had just endured. They helped themselves to the stack of sub sandwiches waiting in the kitchen and laughed nervously in their attempts to shake off the aftershocks of the meeting. Damage-control efforts were made to mend fences after the direct—and sometimes brutally frank—exchanges that had taken place. The break, like their meeting, seemed infused with a strong element of intensity and purpose.
When they had gathered again at the table, Clayton said, “Admiral Coxen, would you summarize the actions we’ve agreed to take?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Vice President. First, the code name Operation Safe Harbors will encompass all planning and operational activities relating to the strategic plan, which you will present to Congress on 16 October. NSC members will submit their plan drafts to me by 1700 hours on 11 October, and I’ll prepare a working document for review on 12 October. We will use the remaining time prior to the congressional address to fine-tune our plan.
“Second, with respect to the Saudi crisis, we will pursue the asymmetrical approach recommended in Option #1 of the CIA Report. Secretary of Defense Thompson and Secretary of State Cartright will coordinate planning in these areas.
“Third, we’ll await the response from China before finalizing plans. Jack McCarty will coordinate and oversee this initiative, but we will proceed with Operation Safe Harbors regardless of the position China takes.
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