White House

EPILOGUE

“Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”

President Lindsay, looking gaunt, shuffled to the podium in the White House map room, fiddled with his notes for a moment, then gazed into the television cameras. It was ten in the morning, two weeks after the Tanegashima explosion and standoff in the Sea of Japan.

“Last night, with the advice of my national security team, I ordered our armed forces to strike at four separate military targets outside the city of Pukch’ong, North Korea.

“Over the past weeks, after the underground nuclear explosion at Kimch’aek, U.S. and South Korean intelligence services confirmed the existence of a well-advanced nuclear weapons program there.

“Satellite photographs pinpointed the installation of four nuclear weapons, attached to long-range Taepo Dong missiles. The missiles were on their launchers, and we believe that technicians at each of the sites were preparing to launch attacks on the city of Seoul, in South Korea, and three targets in Japan, including the city of Tokyo.

“Had we done nothing, and the attacks had taken place, we believe that the loss of life would have been staggering.”

The President paused and glanced up from his notes. His complexion was pale, and a slight tic had developed below his left eye. It seemed as if he had aged twenty years in the past few weeks since his last news conference.

“I am happy to report that the mission was a complete success. All four of the missile installations were destroyed, and there was no loss of American lives.

“One of our primary fears was that by attempting to destroy armed nuclear weapons, our strikes would themselves cause the weapons to explode, enveloping much of North Korea’s east coast in a nuclear fireball. My technical advisers assured me that this could not happen, and in fact did not happen.”

The President’s resolve seemed to harden. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. While we understand and respect the right of any sovereign nation to defend itself, the United States will no longer sit idly by while irresponsible governments attempt to build and deploy any weapons of mass destruction. In this, we are firmly resolved.”

When Louise Horn emerged from the photo interpretation center she was surprised that it was a bright, sunny morning. She stopped under the overhang to take a deep breath of fresh air, and she coughed. “Goddammed cigarettes,” she muttered under her breath.

“It’s a bad sign when you start talking to yourself, Louise.”

She turned and smiled as Major Wight walked over to her. “The air smells funny, Bert. Why do you suppose that is?”

“You’re just not used to it,” Wight said. He looked at his watch. “How about a late breakfast? I’m buying. Unless you have something better to do, like sleeping.”

“Sure,” Louise said. They started to the parking lot. “That was something last night. What do you suppose is going to happen now?”

“I don’t think Kim Jong-Il is going to make any noise about losing his entire nuclear weapons stockpile and four of his missile batteries, if that’s what you mean.” He grinned. “Seventh creamed them.”

“He was stupid not to have spread them out after Kimch’aek.”

“He didn’t have the time.”

“Do you suppose he would have actually launched an attack?” she asked.

Wight shrugged. “We’ll probably never know. But you saw the pictures. Four bombs, four modified missiles on their launchers. Their threat radars were up and active, and they got off three SAMs. They were serious.”

The morning shift was straggling in. Louise waved at a few people she knew and wondered what sort of crises they would be looking at in the next eight hours.

She smiled wistfully and glanced back at the sprawling center. The job was like a drug, she decided. Worse than cigarettes, worse than pot, because once you got started you couldn’t quit until you became a basket case and they carried you out.

“You did a hell of a job, Louise,” he told her. They reached his car, three slots away from Louise’s. “IHOP okay?”

“Sounds good. I’ll follow you,” she said. “The thing I don’t get is the Tanegashima explosion. What happened out there?”

“One of the solid fuel boosters blew. Just like Challenger. It’s part of the risks of the business.”

“Thank God nobody but Frank Ripley was hurt.”

“Amen,” Wight said. “They’ll rebuild. Challenger didn’t finish us, and the Tanegashima explosion won’t stop the Japanese. They’re tough. If they want something badly enough they’ll keep trying until they get it.”

“Do you think so?”

“Count on it.”

It was McGarvey’s birthday, a fact he had completely forgotten until he was discharged from Bethesda Naval Hospital and the nurse wheeling him down the corridor mentioned it.

He was feeling pretty good. The gunshot wound in his shoulder was healing nicely, and he had cut out the pain medications for the second-degree burns on his back, neck and arms. He wasn’t going to need skin grafts, although the doctors said that had he been exposed to such extreme heat for another few seconds he would have probably been in and out of hospitals for the next year. He was a lucky man.

Kathleen and Liz had stayed by his side around the clock, except during his extensive debriefings, first by his own people, and then under CIA supervision by the FBI’s Fred Rudolph.

Not once during that time did anyone make the suggestion that what he’d done was not only foolish in the extreme, but criminal, though he saw it in their eyes and heard it in the tone of their questions.

He had sent Katy home last night, over her weak objections, and this morning Liz had to go down to the outpatient clinic to have some stiches removed. Afterwards she was going out to Chevy Chase to pick up her mother. They would be coming back to the hospital later in the afternoon.

In the meantime, McGarvey convinced his doctor to release him this morning, two full days earlier than planned. Instead of the big argument he’d expected, McGarvey had been pleasantly surprised when the doctor had simply shrugged and let him go.

Dick Yemm was waiting for him downstairs in the busy lobby, and he took over from the nurse who would not allow McGarvey to get out of the wheelchair until he was actually outside the building.

“You look a hell of a lot better this morning than when the navy brought you in,” Yemm said.

McGarvey laughed. “I wouldn’t recommend this place as a vacation destination.”

“Next time duck, boss.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” McGarvey said. It really was good to be getting out.

“Did you catch the President’s announcement this morning?”

“Yeah,” McGarvey said, his stomach tightening again. Lindsay had announced to a stunned nation that he was resigning, only the second president in history to do so. He’d had a minor heart attack two nights ago, and to continue in the job would almost certainly mean his death. Vice President Lawrence Haynes would be sworn in at ceremonies in the Rose Garden tomorrow afternoon.

It was over, Lindsay’s part finished. For all his mistakes and wrongdoings he would completely escape any sort of punishment or censure, but McGarvey supposed it was for the best. There was no reason to drag the country through any more turmoil. The North Korean nuclear program had been wiped out, and Japan’s plans for nuclear domination were just as effectively stopped. From this point on the U.S. would be closely monitoring their nuclear program as well as their space launch capabilities.

“Did somebody bring my car over?” he asked.

“Your secretary told me that I’d be driving from now on, and I wasn’t about to argue with her.”

A Lincoln limousine with government plates was waiting in the driveway, and he was happy to see that Murphy hadn’t come out for a final word. He was going to be pressured into getting ready for his Senate confirmation hearing in a few weeks, and once again he wasn’t sure that he wanted the job.

There were a few people around, and Yemm pulled up short as a dark Chrysler minivan came up the driveway and stopped behind the limo. The driver got out, took some flowers from the back and went inside the hospital, nodding pleasantly as he passed. McGarvey noticed that Yemm’s eyes never left the man, and he had an inkling how Murphy felt everytime he went somewhere with a bodyguard at his side. It gave him pause. It was another aspect of the job he didn’t know if he could handle. He was used to taking care of himself. Besides, McGarvey thought, people around him tended to get in the line of fire. It seemed sometimes like he was a magnet for every sonofabitch out there with a grudge against Americans. He smiled bitterly. In spite of all the anti-American sentiment worldwide, nobody was beating a path to immigrate to Iraq or Libya or Afghanistan. Everyone wanted to come here, the crazies included.

Yemm insisted that McGarvey ride in the backseat. And that was an odd feeling too. He felt like a pretentious jerk. Another Howard Ryan.

When they pulled out, Yemm glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you want to go over to your apartment first?”

“First before what?”

Yemm got a funny look on his face. He shook his head. “I just thought maybe you needed to get something.”

“What’s going on, Dick?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re going to work for me, I don’t want any bullshit,” McGarvey said.

Yemm looked at him again in the rearview mirror. “I’m in trouble,” he said. “Mrs. McGarvey doesn’t want you out there until noon. Gives us an hour.”

“What’s happening at noon?”

“Mr. McGarvey, you’re going to have to cover for me,” Yemm said. “They’ve got a surprise birthday party laid on for you. If Mrs. McGarvey finds out I blew it, my ass is grass.”

McGarvey couldn’t help but laugh. “On second thought we do have to get back to my apartment. I need some cigarettes, and I could use a stiff brandy.”

“Yes, sir.” Yemm was watching him. “She’s invited half of Washington, boss. So maybe you should think about changing clothes too.”

Again McGarvey couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this the way it’s going to be from now on?”

“Yes, sir. So you might as well sit back and enjoy it, because between Mrs. M. and your secretary I don’t think you’ve got much of a chance.”

McGarvey sat back, and this time his smile was private. It did feel good to be home. He just had to wonder how long it would last this time.