“In the interim, for a period that is hoped will last no longer than a matter of days, a joint Executive Council consisting of the fourteen members of the Cabinet and chaired by me, as secretary of state, will provide for essential executive branch functions. We will remain located at the secure facility mandated by the current state of emergency. All military commands of the United States armed forces will be unified under Defense Secretary Whittaker and through him to General Slaider and his immediate staff. General Slaider will act with the full authority of the Executive Council and function as chief military commander, subject, of course, to the civilian supervision of Secretary of Defense Whittaker. In all other ways, the orderly functioning of the government of the United States will continue in such manner as has been its common practice.
“To those who search honestly and patriotically for the source of authority for this Executive Council, the answer can be no better stated and no stronger put than that necessity has placed that awesome scepter of authority in my hands until such time as Congress can decide the issue.
“To our friends around the world who share with us security interests and control of great weapons of destruction, I can say that until the Congress acts, I am the caretaker, the guardian, and the master of those weapons, in accordance with laws relating to such weapons, as if I were the president of the United States.
“To those who would be our enemies, know that we stand with one resolve, as we always have, when our land, our home, our families, and our honor have been threatened. As always we extend the hand of friendship to all people coming to us in friendship and a tolerant forbearance to those who disagree with us. But the iron hand of America’s might will reach out and punish those who attack us and those who violate our hospitality.
“Finally, before I close for questions, I would ask everyone listening to this broadcast to observe a moment of silent prayer for our fallen president and for our stricken nation. May we beseech the almighty God that protects America to give us once again the wisdom and strength to understand and prevail in these calamitous times and bring America through as he has in the past stronger and better.”
Secretary Llewellyn bowed his head and for a minute the room, the broadcast, and perhaps the world waited silently in amazement.
“I can now entertain a few questions from the press.”
There was stunned confusion in the conference room. Instantly hands began shooting up and questions poured out in a babble of anxious energy.
“Mr. Secretary, what about ceremonies for the president’s funeral?”
“General Slaider assures me that security measures now in place or in progress will allow for such ceremonies within one week. The president’s body will lie in state at the Capitol Rotunda beginning two days from today.”
“Mr. Secretary, why don’t you and the other cabinet members simply agree to the vice president functioning as acting president until Congress decides the issue of succession instead of establishing a new and possibly dangerous precedent by the creation of the Executive Council?“
“This is a very difficult and sensitive question. I understand and share your concern, as do the other cabinet secretaries, I might add, however, as we see it, we are dealing with a choice between two less-than-desirable options. The vice president is attempting to assert his primacy by establishing a military base of support through misguided commanders in the Air Force. This, to the cabinet seemed a more dangerous precedent than the temporary establishment of a caretaker Executive Council, a legitimate practice acknowledged and accepted worldwide in parliamentary forms of government.”
“What about the vice president’s claims that General Slaider is involved in the assassination of the president and that FBI reports support his claims. Wouldn’t it be safer to place the unified military command under someone not taintedat least until these different issues can be decided?”
“Based on recent events, the record seems clear that General Slaider did all he could to protect the president while the vice president seems bent on legitimizing his claims through promoting military insurrection. If accusation alone is enough to taint a person then can a government ever be formed that could withstand the arrows of ambition, jealousy, and perfidy? No, in this time of great national need we cannot afford to cast aside our most able and proven patriots based on speculation and innuendo.”
“What about the vice president’s claim that his plane was fired on?”
“That is untrue. Next.”
“What about General Stoner? What will happen to him? Isn’t he a proven patriot, also?”
“General Stoner’s situation is under intense review at this time. Next.”
“Martial law seems to be spreading to more and more segments of the country. Is this perhaps an overreaction to local disturbances, and perhaps a strategy by the various governors to shift the financial burden of securing public safety from the state to the federal treasuries?”
“I don’t think so. Anyone watching the scenes of anarchy and destruction, the violent demonstrations, the looting and burning and bombings that we’ve all witnessed with disgust on telescreen, I think, would support the action of these governors in requesting the assistance of their federal government. Next question.”
“When do you anticipate a return to civilian control for those areas under military jurisdiction, especially in Washington? Aren’t you, as a diplomat, disturbed by this spread of military control throughout the country?”
“The use of federal troops, under the direct civilian control and supervision of the secretary of defense and me is expected to be no longer necessary within a matter of a few days. At that time, police authority will be returned to the appropriate state and local authorities on a case by case basis. Thank you ladies and gentlemen. That will be all for now.”
As the three men turned to leave the podium, a reporter in the rear shouted out, “Who is Jeremy Leach, Mr. Secretary? Is there a connection between him and General Slaider, as the vice president alleges?” None of the three men turned or acknowledged the question.
“Mr. Secretary. Mr. Secretary.”
The conference was over.
Lal clicked off the set to avoid being influenced by the commentary to follow.
“Mr. Pandhu, I expect that we will be entering a very interesting time shortly. Please see to it that an alert is issued to all delegations requiring the strictest adherence to security and personnel safety directives. I want every delegation to be able to account for the location of every accredited member. You will see to it that all buildings as well as the grounds remain closed to all tourists, at least for the remainder of the week. You will, of course, communicate our decision to keep the United Nations grounds closed to the media, the mayor, the police department, and to the commander of the US military units surrounding us.”
His eyes dropped to the single sheet on his desk, filled with portent. “And finally, please retrieve for me the July file on US strategic weapons deployments.”
“Immediately, sir.” Pandhu backed to the door and, bending slightly at the waist, opened the door and exited.
The American political system was quite resilient, Lal reassured himself. It would stumble for a few days until a consensus developed and then a more or less judicious and cautious path would prevail. He was not concerned about the instability in the United States, with its long tradition of civilian control over the military.
His concern was the possible and perhaps inevitable injudicious behavior of other nations—nations attempting to profit from the momentary vacuum, nations misreading the depth of the American disruptions, nations miscalculating the implications or threats to their own security or national interests. As of yet, the world reactions, particularly those of the international military community, seemed measured and controlled. Their military measures seemed little more than simple precautions considering the current expanded role of the military in the American policy-making apparatus.
There was no advantag
e and certainly no political energy within China or Russia, considering their own internal difficulties, to precipitously react to the recent developments in the United States. World reaction has been one of horror and anxiety rather than rejoicing at some unexpected opportunity presenting itself. The picture of a wounded tiger not to be taunted rose easily to mind.
Lal was not so sure about some third world countries. Reports of the US military intrusions and searches of foreign embassy compounds were very disturbing and did not bode well for future relations between the United States and the developing world, much less with the United Nations. And it did not help that the searches had resulted in the seizure of automatic weapons, large caches of explosives, heavy weapons, sophisticated listening devices, as well as the discovery of unaccredited personnel who were nothing more than paid assassins being harbored within the consulates. Yes, he thought, a search of American consulates worldwide would probably uncover similar practices. But that was simply speculation. These discoveries were real and being paraded before the American press for a planned and calculated purpose. Of that he was sure.
Predictably, the worldwide diplomatic community was shocked and outraged by America’s unprecedented violation of extraterritorial privilege, but the deed is done and now the evidence of the discoveries is on the table, so to speak. The arguments of diplomatic immunity will not carry much weight with the Americans against the weight of evidence confirming their worst fears—that the United Nations is simply a base for subversion in their own country against their own country.
Lal rubbed his head and face with both hands in frustration at the petty worldview held by his third world constituents. They strut, they posture, they collect these vast and pointless arsenals in their embassies—arsenals that they will never use—to play their petty, self-indulgent games. They risk everything and they accomplish nothing.
Unconsciously, Lal shook his head.
Or, perhaps, it allows them to be more reasonable—having these caches—secure in their manhood. Perhaps it would be worse if they did not do these foolish things. After all, they were really risking nothing. No one could have conceived of the American military searching a diplomatic compound. The weapons, the agents—they were really a gesture to themselves, for themselves. Something to be winked at. Something to intimidate their own people with.
Still, undoubtedly the Americans knew of these caches and probably also of the unaccredited agents. Why would they choose to move on these matters now? Was a case being made against the United Nations? And if so, by whose authority? And to what purpose? Perhaps it was merely a diversion during this time of crisis and would fade away as other stories in the past had germinated and grew and attracted the public interest only quickly to fade from public ire. Americans did have a short attention span for these matters and seemed to exhaust issues quickly in a self-consuming inferno of obsessive but ephemeral interest. Unless it could be made to persist somehow. But how? And once againwhy? His confidence in the American government’s commitment to the United Nations was unshakable. But right now who was the American government?
Pandhu knocked on the door and entered with the report Lal had asked for. He handed the report to Lal, briefly reported on his execution of Lal’s recent directives and left.
Lal placed the report carefully before him on his desk and opened it, trying to see beyond its words to the hidden meaning of its facts and figures and assessments.
It seemed to Lal that every great war began from a miscalculation. What concerned Lal most was the temporary uncertainty over the control of America’s strategic nuclear arsenal in Western, and presumably, in Eastern Europe. He understood the full implications of Secretary Llewellyn’s assertion that he was the master of these weapons. But unless he was the master of the American military as well, that would be hollow assurance to Russia and China and to the NATO countries as well on whose soil these strategic weapons still sat poised, though almost forgotten by the general public. Lal concluded he must ensure that no miscalculation occurs today and tomorrow and perhaps the next day. After that, he was convinced the crisis would be over.
Lal got up and poured himself some tea from the thick potion brewing on the counter by the bookcase where he kept his personal volumes, the ones he turned to for spiritual and philosophical guidance. He poured some of the tea concentrate in a cup and added extra hot water to dilute the drink. He adopted this Turkish manner of brewing tea from a concentrate when he first visited that country early in his school years when he studied in Ankara.
Good enough, he thought. All this is a challenge and he loved challenge. As they say in America, that’s why he gets the big bucks. The situation in America was a puzzle and he liked puzzles and was good at them. He would accede to the demands of the Arab delegations for an immediate convening of the Security Council. They would debate the issue of America’s violation of extraterritorial rights. Theoretically what the American forces had done could be construed as an act of war against the various countries whose consulates they had violated. It was a conclusion no one would take seriously, though the diplomats of course would feed fuel to the current drama rather than damp the flameswhich would be the true mission of diplomacy. Venting, however, had its uses, he concluded. It would suffice in the end to provide a visible platform for posturing while the real work evolved behind the scenes. As it always had.
71
The sound of the door closing had awakened the president. He was still groggy from the sleep medication he was being given. President Drummond raised himself up in his bed and looked at the small paper cup of pills placed on the tray that had been placed across the bed while he slept. There was no doubt he was getting better. He picked up the glass of orange juice and quickly swallowed the pills.
Except for his nurse, the last time he could remember being seen or visited by anyone was three or four days ago, possibly more. He knew he was having difficulty judging time intervals. There was just too much time spent sleeping. At least all the sleep was having a salutary effect on his recovery. He was definitely better. He felt stronger and was able to get out of the bed briefly. He was encouraged by that, at least.
Gradually, he shook off the grogginess of sleep and looked around the room for changes. The phones had gone first, removed the last time he had slept, along with the file cabinets and a secretary’s desk. Now the telescreen and all remaining furniture were gone except for one chair. His recovery room began to look like a prison cell, he thought. And where was Morgan? And the cabinet? And the press?
His first attempts to communicate with someone other than the nurse were hopelessly unsuccessful. She was completely deaf, from all indications. He had gestured for writing material, anything to provide a means of communicating with her. Every attempt proved futile. Finally, he had given up on her. Others would surely be arriving soon. A matter of hours—surely another doctor visit would happen soon. They must be giving him time to recover from the ordeal of his nationwide address just after the shooting. That had to be it.
He looked again at the tray across his bed. The food was more solid now. He took this as a sign that his own assessment of his improving condition was more or less correct. He was on the mend. Slowly, he dipped his spoon into the clear broth, fished for the bits of chicken and took a tentative taste, then another. Satisfied that his stomach would not rebel, he finished the small portion of soup and then tested the applesauce. A plastic plate with a meat patty, well-done, bright-green peas, and several small boiled potatoes looked surprisingly inviting. He sat back against his pillow, tired but grateful for the patty. Placing the cup of orange juice on his belly, he let himself relax completely. He lifted the cup from time to time to take a sip through the “L”-shaped straw.
He had not seen General Slaider for at least the last three waking periods. In fact, he was the last person he remembered seeing other than the nurse. Perhaps there had been more. He couldn’t remember. Was there a larger conspiracy than an assassination attempt and had i
t succeeded? Was America fighting the aggression of a foreign power? It seemed inconceivable to him. Yet, what had happened to his staff, to his military physicians, to Slaider—to everyone? Why was he so isolated now that he was feeling better? Was Paul Latimer acting for him while he was recuperating? Certainly he should have seen Paul by now, whatever meaning “now” could have for him in his present state of ignorance.
Finished with his juice, he pushed the mobile tray assembly aside and slowly turned his body and lowered himself from the bed. The tubes had been removed a few waking sessions back. His bandages, however, were still being changed. He used the changes to try to measure time intervals, assuming they were changed twice a day. But he still could not account for his sleeping durations and had little confidence in his estimates. He hoped he might be accurate to a day. He thought it had been perhaps a week since he had been shot.
Carefully, he walked to the small bathroom. He looked in the mirror and the familiar image of himself provided a comforting source of reality. When he was through, he washed his hands and face. Although bending down, even slightly, introduced pains in areas of his body to which formerly he had paid only scant attention, he persisted because the sense of reawakening energy resulting from his efforts was worth the momentary discomfort.
Leaving the bathroom, he walked again to the door and once again found it locked from the outside. Why? For security reasons? From the outside?
Resting his head against the door, he took a few shallow breaths. Last time he had walked the perimeter of the room and around the bed three times. This time he would do six. He would pace himself and each time he would add laps to his exercise. Slowly he began his first circuit of the room. He remembered reading that Charles Darwin was said to have had a path in his garden that he would walk every day as a kind of ritual that helped him focus his thoughts and isolate himself from distractions. Drummond tried to evoke that same feeling of focused thinking as he paced his cell. However, each time, he sank back into his bed, tired and frustrated, unable to get beyond the first question: what was happening outside?
On Deception Watch Page 29