“Certainly, sir, one moment please.”
A slight pause ensued, and then McIntyre came on the line. Brigadier Sir Colin McIntyre had served Her Majesty through three decades and part of a fourth, as a young officer with the Coldstream Guards, eventually rising to command the regiment, and then as a member of MI6, Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, posted abroad the past decade.
“Carlos, thank you for returning my call. Your Irish information has stirred up the proverbial hornet’s nest, dear boy. Are your swimming skills still in good form?”
“Sir?”
“About now, or certainly within the hour, I suspect General Connor will be getting a call from the Pentagon. The thrust of the message, lad, will be that Her Majesty’s government shall be requesting the use of your personal skills.”
“In what capacity, Brigadier?” Carlos asked.
“ Who dares, wins, I should think, Carlos. You know those Stirling Lines SAS boys, of course. The CRW, our counter-revolutionary warfare wing, will probably be assigned this mission, although given the proximity of the target, they might farm it out to the colonials. That would be the Aussies to you.” He laughed.
Carlos smiled briefly, recognition of a previous assignment in the Middle East drawing distant memories. “It seems I’m destined to spend a portion of my career seconded to Her Majesty’s Special Air Service. And we’re going swimming, you say?”
“Indubitably, my dear boy, but not to worry. It’s quite warm in the South Pacific this time of year, so I’m led to believe, and with six to eight inches of snow due here in Washington later this week-well, I envy you. Were I twenty… no, make that thirty years younger, I’d see about a set of togs and flippers for myself. Let me know when you hear something.”
“Certainly, Brigadier. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Chapter 7
White House Oval Office
Washington D.C.
February
President William Snow, 5’ 11”, trim and healthy at age 59, with a thick shock of salt-and-pepper hair and a piercing set of steely gray eyes, sat comfortably on a soft, terra cotta-colored lounge chair, its new smell faint in the Oval Office.
Former President Joshua Steadman, 71, was a native of South Carolina and had retired to a secluded, Hilton Head Island estate. His hair was now thinner and a slight paunch had begun to appear in what had remained, well into his 60’s, a stocky, athletic build. He sat across from Snow on an equally new, burgundy-toned settee.
Steadman had served two terms as president, departing just over eight years ago after transferring power to President Eastman. He had returned to Washington to participate in President Clay Cumberland’s inauguration, and had stayed for the funeral ceremony. Six weeks later, he had graciously accepted an invitation to meet with President Snow.
Despite his advancing age, Steadman was visibly animated in his actions and speech, his mind clear, decisive, and his verbal presentation authoritative, yet not directive. Both men had spent the previous thirty minutes in discussion, alternating between casual chatter and more serious, penetrating, conversation. From opposite political parties, they had only met once previously. However, on this second occasion, arranged at the personal invitation of President William Snow, each had taken an immediate liking to the other, notwithstanding their philosophical differences.
“I could beat around the bush, Bill, but to get to the heart of the matter, there’s only one real question you need to answer,” Steadman said. “Do you want a chance at a second term?”
Bill Snow smiled and nodded his head, agreeing with the other man. “That would be the bottom line, wouldn’t it?”
“Indeed,” the older man replied. “The answer to that question will form all your other decisions in these first few weeks. If you act forcefully, relying on your own counsel and those you know you can trust, and if you make your own decisions and are determined in what you seek, you’ll undoubtedly set some of your own party against you. Unfortunately, there’s no way around that. I came here today, at your invitation, to discuss this with you as candidly as possible. You’ve got an unprecedented opportunity, Bill. You can do what few of us who have sat behind that desk have truly been able to do.”
“How so?” Snow queried.
Steadman smiled broadly, reaching to retrieve his coffee cup from the side table. “Despite what your party hacks are going to claim to the contrary, you have absolutely no obligation to honor any political deals Cumberland made. All bets are off. They died with that poor unfortunate soul at the end of his three-hour presidency. You owe ‘nothing to nobody,’ as the saying goes. You can make your own cabinet nominations without fear or favor to those who supported Cumberland, and you can set the agenda for your first, and perhaps your only, term.” He chuckled. “In short, Bill, you’ve come to this office without baggage-without owing an arm and a leg to everyone who claims he brought you his county, his state, or a bag of electoral votes. That in itself is rare, practically unheard of in this day and age. But,” the former president said, “if you have any thoughts of a second term, they’ll hold you over the barrel and demand you support their favorite nominees, programs, or hare-brained ideas.”
Snow leaned back into the soft, yet firm cushions of his chair, crossing his legs and pursing his lips. “I’d certainly anger all those in my own party who made the promises, those who paid the bill for Cumberland’s-and my-election.”
“True. But at what price? Four years with a management team someone else chose, some of whom will be inclined to repeatedly remind you that whatever you want to do, it was not what President Cumberland would have done. Or would you prefer freedom to do what you think is right? What-in your own opinion-the country needs? With a top-level team of your own choosing? To be perhaps the first president to ever come in here with a clean slate and no human debt? It’s not only the economy, security and general national issues-you’ve got this dammed secession issue to consider. What will you do about California? Cumberland voiced his determination to take any and all measures necessary to put a halt to it. Personally, Bill, I think military intervention would be the worst thing you could do.”
Snow remained silent, a slight smile played across his lips as he listened to the highly popular former president, a man who had left office after eight years still possessed of a sixty-three percent favorable poll rating. Steadman sipped on his coffee and watched the younger man.
“You’ve thought all this through, haven’t you, you desert fox?” Steadman asked, using the term the Arizona press had coined when Bill Snow had-against all odds-run for governor and won.
“Choosing my own team has certainly crossed my mind, Josh, but I haven’t made any firm decisions yet. I’m also not certain how to handle California. In some respects, we’d lose a lot of problems if we just let them go. Let them fend for themselves. At last look, they were bankrupt. We either need to let them go it their own way, or bail them out.”
“That’s true, but don’t underestimate the precedent. We might end up with two nations between the Atlantic and the Pacific. I’ve heard rumblings from some western colleagues.”
Snow nodded. “So have I, but let’s get back to cabinet appointments and my immediate problems. California can wait until next week.” He laughed. “I’m not anxious to get crossways with my own party, but the thought of a clean slate, choosing my own cabinet, is enticing. Other vice presidents who took over from their president did so well into their terms of office and had to show at least a semblance of completing the guys’ work. I don’t see it that way in this case. Cumberland made campaign promises, but had no initiatives started yet. There truly is an opportunity to put the right people in the right places- my people-regardless of the clamor it would raise among your party or mine. Of course, there are the Senate confirmation hearings to consider, and the Republicans are still in the minority where I need the votes. And the first consideration is a vice president.”
Steadman nodded in agreement. “In light of the events that have transpired, if you move quickly, decisively, the American people will support you and the Senate won’t have the ability to deny confirmation of your nominees.
