Memorial Day

Thirty-Five

MARYLAND

The secure video teleconference was up and running. The National Security Council wasn't due to reconvene for another fifteen minutes, but more than half of the principal players were already seated, including the president. On the big screen at the end of the conference room, aides and deputies could be seen coming in and out of the other off-site locations, bringing their bosses information and whispering instructions in their ears. The conference room at Site R was no different. People were coming and going at a feverish pace.

Valerie Jones, the president's chief of staff, was sitting directly across from Kennedy talking on a secure phone and eating a powdered donut. Kennedy watched her with the aim of getting her attention as soon as she hung up. It appeared from the conversation that she was talking to the White House press secretary. Thankfully, it appeared thus far that the media was in the dark. They all agreed, however, that would not last forever. Kennedy doubted sincerely that they would make it to nine o'clock without word somehow leaking out.

Washington, like most centers of power, was an environment dominated by meetings. Breakfast meetings, morning meetings, midmorning meetings, lunch meetings-it went on and on from predawn all the way into the night. A lot of very important people would be missing their breakfast meetings this morning and it would not go unnoticed.

Jones hung up the phone and exhaled in relief. "So far, so good," she said to the president. "That was Tim." Jones was referring to Tim Webber, the White House press secretary, who had been given the unenviable task of pulling duty at the White House. This had been Jones's decision. Most of the TV reporters began showing up around 6:00 a.m. with print media coming in around 9:00 a.m. It would be much easier for Webber to deflect questions and deal with any rumors in person rather than over the phone.

"Not a call from the media yet," the chief of staff added.

The president looked at a string of clocks on the wall and noted the time on the one marked Washington. It was a little past five in the morning. "The media isn't even out of bed yet."

"I know that," retorted Jones, "but they have plenty of sources in your administration. I'm amazed no one has called to tip them off." Jones had a bit of an edge to her, which in a way was a prerequisite for her job. Even when dealing with the president she could be harsh.

Kennedy placed a hand on the president's arm and said, "I need to discuss something with the two of you." She leaned in and the president and Jones followed suit. "I think I know what their endgame is." Like everyone, Kennedy had been stuck in the moment and hadn't really had the time to step back and look at the big picture. Since her last conversation with Rapp, however, something had occurred to her.

"If they in fact have a nuke, it's only logical that they use it for maximum effect. This should be no surprise to you," Kennedy looked at the president, "but one of the terrorists told Mitch that their plan is to kill you. The man also said something strange. He said they wanted to kill you and all the generals. When Mitch told me I thought it sounded a little funny, so I asked him if that was exactly what the man said, and it was. At the time, I wrote it off as one of those statements of exaggerated bravado that Arabs are so fond of making. Taken literally, the statement is ludicrous. Killing all our generals would be impossible, but then I got to thinking that a word that to native English speakers has one meaning in this context might have a subtle but different meaning to them."

"So what did he mean?" asked Jones.

"I think by using the wordgeneral the man may have been referring to leaders in general."

"What kind of leaders?"

"Yourself, the Congressional leadership, the vice president, your entire cabinet. They want to decapitate our government in one fell swoop."

"How could they be guaranteed to get everyone in the city at the same time?" asked Jones.

Kennedy turned her address book around so the president and his chief of staff could see the calendar. "I'm embarrassed I didn't see it sooner, but here it is. Everyone is in town this week for the dedication of the new World War Two memorial."

The president looked at the calendar. "Memorial Day."

"The festivities actually start on Saturday, and," said Kennedy, "it's already Wednesday, and the heads of Britain, Russia, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and a dozen other countries are due to begin arriving on Friday. If you wanted to hit us hard, this would be the time to do it."

Hayes looked at the calendar, his eyes locked on Memorial Day. After a few seconds he looked up at Kennedy and said, "How could we have not seen this sooner?"

"Well, at least we have a few days before we have to cancel the damn thing," said Jones.

"We don't have a few days," Kennedy said firmly. "We're going to be lucky if we make it to noon." With a raised brow she added, "The press is going to demand to know where you are, sir."

Hayes understood. "Lying to them won't work and putting them off won't work. They'll just make wild assumptions."

"Logical assumptions," corrected Kennedy. "Why would the president, his cabinet, the supreme court, and the Congressional leadership all be evacuated from the capital in the middle of the night?"

"Only one reason I can think of," said the president.

"We might be able to buy a little more time by appealing to their patriotism," offered Jones weakly.

Hayes shook his head. "We'd be better off if I called the owners of the networks and papers and asked them personally to sit on it."

Kennedy viewed the entire enterprise as rather hopeless. Certain things had been set in motion, and no matter how much clout and power the president had, he would not be able to keep this story from the public. They were quickly headed to a juncture where only one move would calm the press and buy them time. It was a move that was fraught with risk, and one that she didn't dare mention unless it was a last resort.