Executive force, p.20
Executive Force, page 20
“A shot across the bow, Bernsie. The clock is ticking, and he’s feeling pressure, too. In the meantime, I want full coordination between the Secret Service and the Capitol Police. Visible and immediate. Leak it. Let it get reported. That will help assuage Patrick, if only temporarily, but it can also work as a deterrent.”
Now he was thinking about how vulnerable Roarke had proven the Supreme Court to be.
“I’ll get right on it.”
“And get me the phone numbers of all the officials threatened. I pulled that promise out of my ass.”
CHAPTER 38
It was 3:18:30 p.m. in Pyongyang, and 1:18 a.m. in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. Not too late on a Friday for Congressman Desmond Willoughby to order one last drink at the Hampton Inn and Suites. A very last drink. He’d given a speech earlier, met with constituents, and stopped at the restaurant for a glass of merlot to take to his nonsmoking room.
On his way to the elevator, he bumped into a woman. He almost spilled his glass, but fortunately, she helped steady his drink.
“Thanks,” the four-term congressman, chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, said.
The woman smiled, then continued down the hall.
Willoughby took a sip while going up to his fifth-floor room. Inside, he had another. Feeling tired, he finished the wine, turned on CNN, and went to the bathroom where he fell, cracking his head on the sink. He didn’t die from the fall, but the next morning, that’s what local investigators first thought. An accident. That assumption changed when a smart doctor who had been reading the news ordered an autopsy.
CHAPTER 39
WASHINGTON, D.C.
MEET THE PRESS
TWO DAYS LATER
It began like fireworks in the second segment. The Meet the Press host threw out the first question to the panel. He didn’t need a follow-up for six minutes.
“Stan Deutsch, you first. Are we getting a taste of our own medicine?”
The fifty-year-old bearded PBS White House political reporter immediately redefined the host’s question. “If you’re asking if someone, or some country, has an active covert influence campaign going, I’d say possibly. If you’re asking if we deserve it based on history, then that’s another thing. We’re not without guilt when it comes to active measures.”
“I would avoid using the word guilt,” interrupted former under Secretary of State Nelson Ridgewood. He glared at Deutsch over his half-reading glasses. “Yes, the United States has disrupted elections around the world, most in the post-World War II years, but it was principally to contain communism and foster democratic victories.”
Now octogenarian presidential historian, biographer, and professor emeritus Colonel Wm. Harrison entered the fray. “America’s fingerprints are all over some very dirty dealings. Millions in payoffs to foreign right wing parties when necessary. And when it was better to do the same to extreme leftist regimes, we did that too. Bad business, right down to the elimination of leaders.”
“It’s a false equivalency,” argued Ridgewood. “You can’t link the murder of multiple elected officials across the U.S. to covert influence campaigns in backwater nations. I cover that argument thoroughly in my second book. I think it’s still in print.”
Some on the panel laughed. Not Harrison.
“As do I, Mr. Secretary, with entirely different conclusions. Italy, Iran, and Chile were not backwater nations. Not then, not now. We settled things to our liking by installing autocrats or worse. After World War II we boosted Italy’s centrist Christ Democrats with loads of CIA cash and forged documents that linked communist leaders to sex scandals. In 1973, we toppled, rather violently, Chilean President Salvador Allende. We ousted Iranian Prime Minister Mohammed Mossadegh in fifty-three, replacing him with an authoritarian monarchy favorable to Eisenhower. We aided in unseating Guatemala’s left wing president, Jacobo Arbenz, who fought an American corporation, the United Fruit Company. You want more for your next book? I have more,” Harrison declared.
“Allende was a socialist,” the former White House official noted.
“Without a doubt, yes, a socialist. And what did we do? Through a military coup we installed a man arguably more ruthless, General Augusto Pinochet. And what about Congo’s Patrice Lumumba assassination in 1961?”
“The Russians also have a history of over-running nations. With tanks and troops,” offered NPR’s Washington correspondent Millie Kocan. “From the deepest red of the Red era to Moscow’s meddling with the presidential elections.”
“Agreed,” Deutsch added, reentering the debate. “Together, the two superpowers, the U.S. and Russia, have intervened in up to one hundred seventeen elections around the globe from 1946 to 2000. So if we’re looking for guilty parties, we’ll find them on both sides. Both countries have had their fingers on the scales in the global balance of power.”
“And bringing the question on the table back to the forefront,” Kocan continued, “is the United States the target of a covert influence campaign to disrupt the American political system? There is no evidence that it’s foreign, but it certainly is having an effect. And though the mainstream press hasn’t covered it enough, the rise of grassroots secessionist movements plays into the dissolution of faith.”
“They’re going nowhere,” Deutsch argued.
“Wrong. They’ll take victories where they come. Maybe mostly regionally, but eventually someone will find basis to take it well past state houses and into the courts.”
“Where they’ll lose,” the PBS reporter maintained.
“While poisoning an already poisoned system,” Kogan replied. “We’re in for a very bitter time.”
“Let’s get a definition of terms,” the host proposed. “Covert influence campaign. Colonel Harrison?”
“It comes from the Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms, a publication that defines it as an operation that is so planned and then executed it conceals the identity of the perpetrator or nation sponsors. It permits plausible deniability. It’s not to be confused with a clandestine operation where the mission itself is designed to remain hidden. A covert influence campaign is all about visible impact.”
“And what kind of tactics are used?”
“Sabotage of a system from disruption of everyday processes to, well, assassination. The elimination by death of those within the system.”
“And you’re suggesting a rogue operator?”
“Rogue, well-funded, and dangerous.”
“Russia?” the host asked directly.
While the panelists traded their speculation, the show producer gave the host a news update through his earpiece. The Meet the Press anchor interrupted the discussion with the report.
“Excuse me,” he said lowering his voice. “It’s just now being reported that Arkansas Republican Congressman Desmond Willoughby died last night in a hotel room less than an hour south of Little Rock. An autopsy has been ordered.”
The host shook his head. No one spoke for ten seconds, then everyone jumped in at once.
CHAPTER 40
THAT NIGHT
“This is a dangerous conversation,” Vice President Jonas Jackson Johnson told Duke Patrick during their second meeting.
“And we live in extremely dangerous times,” the Speaker of the House replied. “Times that need strong leadership. You have to admit, the country’s a wreck. Taylor’s in, Taylor’s out. Taylor’s in. And here you are. Number Two in the nation. But the real rub, general, is that you’re the born leader, not Taylor. You’re an independent. You have allegiance to the nation over any party. Isn’t that true?”
J3 wasn’t sure where this would end up. “Yes, but what are you getting at Duke?”
“Just that you’re qualified to be Commander in Chief. A position you’re more than ready to assume. More than anyone since Eisenhower. All you need to do is bring the cabinet with you.”
“And I suppose that would put you in line for vice president?”
“I’d be honored to serve with you,” the Speaker said as humbly as possible.
“To be completely transparent, you’re suggesting, actually you’re advocating that we sidestep the electoral process.”
“Circumstances dictate, General Johnson. I’m concerned about all public officers. School committeemen become mayors. Mayors become legislators. Legislators become governors. Governors become members of congress and president. But only if they live. We’ve been losing America’s finest. America’s future.
“We can take control of the future. That’s my point. Something to think about, Mr. Vice President. The future of the United States.”
“You make a convincing argument, Mr. Speaker. How about another drink?”
• • •
Morgan Taylor was awakened at 0500 by his chief of staff.
“Mr. President, sir.”
“Jesus, just a moment,” the president said sliding out of bed and trying not to disturb his wife of thirty years.
He tiptoed away, threw on his white cotton bathrobe sporting the presidential seal, and joined Bernstein in the hallway.
“What now?”
“Des Willoughby. The autopsy came through. Confirmed ricin poisoning.”
“Oh God!” Morgan Taylor proclaimed. “I suppose more threats, too?”
“More than simply threats now. Overnight a truck plowed into a Louisiana mayor’s home. A poorly constructed fertilizer bomb was left at the Grand Junction city hall. Packages with white powder delivered to an assessor in Middletown, Rhode Island.”
“The guy we’re searching for can’t be in more than one place at one time,” the president said.
“But it could be more than one killer,” Bernsie proposed.
Taylor disagreed. “Copycats adding fuel to the fire. Crazies.”
“Including Willoughby?”
“No. That’s the work of the pro.”
Taylor turned to the bathroom with a last comment. “Tell Poppiti I’ll join him at the press briefing again this morning.”
PYONGYANG, NORTH KOREA
The Supreme Leader beamed as a general briefed him on the news coming out of America. His plan was progressing magnificently. From his point of view, he was effectively sowing the seeds of America’s destruction from within—well beyond what he really might ever accomplish with his limited nuclear arsenal. He laughed aloud, recalling that, in large part, he had his Swiss high school history teacher to thank. But, of course, he never would. He only looked forward to celebrating his own victories.
THE WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM
“Thank you, Joe,” the president said to press secretary Joe Poppiti as he eased up to the microphone.
Morgan Taylor paused and looked around. Local, national, and international reporters sat up. No one appeared relaxed. The still cameras clicked; photographers hoping to have the front-page photograph. It was more likely to come later in his address. They anticipated a strongly worded one.
The president gripped both sides of the podium with the presidential seal emblazoned in full view.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began without the benefit of notes or teleprompter, “there can be no remaining doubt that America is under attack by a yet undetermined enemy who is systematically and methodically targeting American political figures.
“Never has such an attack been waged on the United States. Never have those who have sworn to uphold the laws of our great nation been under such personal attack. It is anything but random. Accordingly, America’s law enforcement and intelligence agencies are focused on discovering the perpetrators and the purpose.
“Although, we have not identified who you are or where you live. Mark my words—that will change.”
Morgan Taylor fixed a gaze straight into the center pool camera lens. The camera operator, transfixed, slowly zoomed in.
“To the individuals,” he intentionally didn’t say governments, “conspiring against the United States of America, I know you’re watching. You may even be laughing as we react. But what appears to you to be inactivity from us, is far from it. We have the means to identify you. And as God and the American people are my witness, we will find you and punish you.”
At this moment, the photographers had what they thought were their front-page pictures. The print and broadcast reporters were ready to start writing and appearing on TV. But Morgan Taylor was not finished.
“Now to the killer who has proven himself skilled and brutal. I say killer because we believe there is only one doing the work. You’ve taken advantage of our open and free society. It will not close because of you. Your training will not protect you from our ability to track you down. And when we do, you will be held accountable, with extreme prejudice for what you have done to this great nation of ours. You are a terrorist, and you are in our sights.”
Taylor paused before adding another warning.
“And for those who are imitating, threatening, scaring, and perpetrating copycat attacks, we will treat you as the domestic terrorists you are. Read up on the federal penalty. You’re not going to like it. We will track you, as well, and bring you to justice. For anyone contemplating doing harm to an elected or appointed official, I put you on notice. Don’t even think of it.”
There were audible gasps from the press corp. Out of character, surprised, and real.
“As for teeth, I have just signed an Executive Order which authorizes the call-up of National Guard units across the country to protect every city hall, state house, and county seat. Our mayors, representatives, governors, and other elected and appointed officials, from selectmen to senators, school committee members to justices will be safeguarded twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week until this crisis is over.
“And we will get through this.”
The president gestured with his right hand.
“I’ll take your questions now?”
Simultaneously reporters drowned out one another.
“Mr. President, what country—?”
“How many troops—?”
“Do you suspect—?”
“Does the CIA—?”
“Has anyone been—?”
He pointed to veteran CBS White House reporter Phil Amato.
“Phil.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. Is it true that the Cabinet is considering invoking the Twenty-Fifth Amendment to remove you from office for inaction?”
The president quizzically raised an eyebrow and figured the source had to be Duke Patrick, though he didn’t say.
“Interesting,” Taylor commented. “I wouldn’t call what I’ve just announced as inaction.”
“And as follow up,” Amato continued, “if it is true, will you be making any changes to your cabinet?”
The president pursed his lips and bore down on Amato, for now, the conduit to the Speaker of the House. In the most measured tone he began. “Phil, I am not aware of any internal coup. Accordingly, I am not responding to a threat to my presidency, but a threat to the United States of America as a whole. I have ordered the National Guard to their posts to protect American citizens, not to protect me. There’s no surprise meaning behind my executive actions. I will not be making any changes to my cabinet. Your source is wrong.”
MINUTES LATER
WHITE HOUSE HALLWAYS
“All right. We do this systematically,” the president decided as he walked with Vice President Jonas Jackson Johnson, Attorney General Eve Goldman, and Bernie Bernstein.
“Bernsie, you poll the cabinet.”
“Got it.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing to this, but confirm what I can only assume is Patrick’s leak to the press.”
“Eve, take me through the decision making process to invoke this clause of the Twenty-Fifth.
“Consider it an alternative route to impeachment,” the attorney general explained. “Solving a quote, unquote, ‘Presidency Problem.’ It starts with the vice president and a majority of the Cabinet notifying Congress that the president, in this case you…”
“No kidding,” Taylor said.
“…is unable, or possibly, unwilling to perform the duties of the office” she said.
“Well, that’s not the case. What happens next?”
“The president can tell Congress that he is capable, and unless the vice president and the majority of the Cabinet again notify Congress, it’s settled, that is unless…”
“I hate that rejoinder,” Taylor remarked.
“Yup,” Eve Goldman said. “It’s usually connected to something dire. In this case, if vice president and the majority of the Cabinet does notify Congress of its decision, the House and Senate must convene and can, by a vote of two-thirds in the affirmative, permanently remove the president, in this case…”
“Right I got it.”
Now the president addressed the one man who could speak to the issue.
“J3? Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Mr. President?”
It wasn’t quite the response Taylor required. He cocked his head to the side.
“General!”
“Yes sir,” J3 replied stiffly.
“Mr. Vice President, have you spoken with any cabinet members about activating the terms of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, or for the sake of this discussion, has anyone spoken to you?”
The general stood at attention, but didn’t reply.
“Eve. Bernsie. Will you give the vice president and me a few minutes,” Morgan Taylor quietly declared.
With shocked expressions they slowly walked away. Bernie Bernstein looked back at the president.
“Sir…”
“I’ll call you when we’re through. The general and I need to talk.”
CHAPTER 41
WASHINGTON, D.C.
WASHINGTON MALL
THE SAME TIME
Roarke wondered how many spies walked along the Washington Mall having conversations like he was having with Vinnie D’Angelo. Hundreds? Thousands? Foreign agents talking to Americans counterparts or recruits, and vice versa? Russian “diplomats” chatting up with members of Congress? Chinese, North Korean, even German, French, and British agents? Anyone who’s worked in the spy trade in the nation’s capital has had clandestine and open meetings in the Mall.
