their families. Many families of suicide bombers become minor celebrities in their countries. They receive sizeable amounts of money from the terrorist organizations as remuneration for the loss of their sons and daughters. It’s very simple. We can send a powerful, clear-cut message to the terrorist community: Become a suicide bomber and we kill your entire family.”
A stunned silence fell over the Oval Office.
“But that’s immoral.” Carrie Black protested, dumbfounded. “And illegal.”
“Tell that to the families of the people buried under the rubble of the Twin Towers,” Senator Stevens said in an acrid tone. “This is war. Why should we play by the rules when they don’t? Now you are talking sense, Dr. Finch. I like that.”
“But the U.N. would totally condemn us.”
The senator looked at her, his voice cold with disgust. “Are you referring to that same stellar organization that appointed Libya as the head of the Human Rights Council? What kind of a farce is that? The U.N. is so mired in politics its members can’t even take a piss without a resolution.”
“What do you think, Will?” President Pierce turned to the NSA director of Middle Eastern intelligence. William Fisher adjusted his tie, getting his thoughts together. The Task Force, with its polar opposite views was difficult for him to navigate safely.
“As you all know, I’ve lived in the Middle East for years,” Fisher began. He sat, on the small sofa next to Carrie Black and took some comfort from her presence. “On the whole the Arab people are pretty much like everyone else. They don’t like war any more than the rest of us. However they’ve been backed into a corner on this Palestinian issue by their religious leaders. They don’t like the Palestinians any more than the Israelis do, but it’s become a Catch-22 for them. Supporting Palestine is the only way to save face. The radical clerics are the ones we should really be worrying about. They not only stir the pot, they finance, recruit and harbor the terrorists. Our organization is monitoring several of these right-wing clerics who preach out of mosques in London, Kuala Lumpur, Yemen, Saudi Arabia, France and Lebanon. If it were possible to neutralize them most of the direct connections to the terrorists would be severed.” He looked at the President, who stared back, his face blank.
Fisher continued. “We’re also monitoring a remarkable surge of terrorist recruitment in Southeast Asia. As you know there are 250 million Muslims in that region, and they’re even less predictable than the Arab Muslims. Unless we put an end to being soft on terrorism, I’m afraid we’re going to have to do battle there as well.”
“So you support the retaliation approach outlined by Senator Stevens and Dr. Finch?” said Pierce.
“On this issue, we agree, Mr. President,” replied Fisher, conscious of Carrie Black’s cold look.
“And what about you, Ron?” Pierce said, addressing Secretary of Defense Ronald Burns.
“Mr. President, we’ve got the greatest military force in the history of the world, and if it comes to war, we’ll throw everything we’ve got into it. But I’m not certain we’re ready for an all-out war against an enemy that’s so elusive, so fluid, and spread all over the globe. I’d be happier if we had more allies willing to step up to bat and commit their troops and technology. But the fact is, the Europeans are hiding in the corners, and Britain, our only ready ally, doesn’t have all that much international muscle.”
The secretary of defense paused, casting about for the right words. “In principle, I agree with Senator Stevens and General Reese, but I just don’t know how we can pull it off and still defend our own soil at the same time. I know I should be the guy waving the flag and charging up the hill, but I’m inclined to agree with Secretary of State Vance. We’ve got to find more ways to exert influence on the Arab countries, and Israel as well.”
Abruptly, President Pierce stood up. “Thank you, gentlemen, and Ms. Black,” he added, nodding toward the national security advisor. “Thank you all for coming. I’ll be in touch with each of you privately for further input. We’ll meet again on Thursday, same time. I’d like each of you to work out your best and worst case scenarios for our next meeting.”
As the members of the Special Task Force gathered their papers and headed out, President Pierce asked Carrie Black to stay behind for a few moments.
“So what’s eating you?” he asked, as soon as the door was closed.
“Do you really trust these guys, Mr. President?” Black said. “It’s as if everyone has multiple hidden agendas.” She sighed, plunking herself down on the sofa. “Frankly, I get tired of trying to figure out who is doing what to whom and why.”
“Let me tell you something, Carrie,” Pierce said, sipping his now cold coffee. “I learned a valuable lesson when I was eighteen. My father sent me for the summer to work on a cattle ranch in New Mexico. My job was to break the wild mustangs. Some days I swear they almost broke me instead. One of my daddy’s favorite sayings was, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. During my time there I worked with an old Mexican vaquero about four feet tall with no teeth. He was the foreman of the operation. He didn’t speak English and my Spanish was pretty basic, but somehow we communicated. It was he and the horses who taught me about trust.
He smiled at her. “I trust everyone and no one, Carrie. Oh, I’m prepared to listen to anyone, but I never believe what they say, at least not fully. The truth, like fine wine, country music and a good-looking woman, is a matter of opinion. I’ve found listening to be the best policy for gathering input. But I prefer to decide for myself what is the truth and just whom to trust.” He took another sip of coffee. “Mason was right. It needs warming up, but we do have the best coffee in Washington.”
“I prefer decaf,” she said.
“I’ll make a note of that for our next meeting. Anyway, as a general rule in politics, and you may want to remember this, I’ve found it doesn’t pay to trust the newcomers or the old timers. The newcomers are too easily swayed and haven’t yet formed their own opinions. They are much too eager to kiss ass and get reelected or reappointed. As for the old timers, the fact that they’ve survived in Washington for any length of time means they’ve sold their soul to the highest bidder, or bidders. It’s the mid-career politicians I find most trustworthy. They’ve weathered the freshman temptations of corruption and bribery but haven’t been around long enough to be totally owned by special interests.” The President stood up and turned to stare out the window. With spring still to come the Rose Garden looked bleak and desolate, the thorny bushes severely trimmed.
“And what about Senator Stevens?”
“If you follow my rule the senior senator from the great State of Virginia is definitely not to be trusted. To flourish on the Hill as long as he has means he must be pretty deep in someone’s pocketbook and he probably has a blackmail dossier on nearly every politician of any importance. Including you and me.”
The President turned back to face her. “But what I can’t figure out about Senator Stevens is how he’s able to get hold of such current intelligence on the terrorists. Everyone knows the American intelligence community is still organized for a cold war. It’s going to take them another ten years to fully adjust to the realities of terrorism and the new world order.” President Pierce shook his head, wondering how the United States of America had made it this far without being decimated from the inside out. “It’s the mountain of information he has at his fingertips that I don’t trust. If I were a betting man I’d say he’s been bought by a very powerful interest. The question is which one?”
Caroline Black gathered her briefing papers and with an approving nod from the President headed for the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she asked, “And what about me, Mr. President?”
“Well, you fall into the newcomer category, Carrie. If you ever graduate I’ll let you know.” President Pierce sat down behind his desk and watched the door close behind her.
A small door on the left side of the Oval Office opened. “Come in Karl. Did you hear the proceedings this morning?”
“Yes Mr. President. Very interesting.”
“I only have a few moments. What have you got?”
“Just a few thoughts on your dilemma. May I continue?”
President Pierce switched on his intercom. “Hold my next appointment for a few moments, will you, Miriam?”
The Hart Senate Office Building
“He’s beginning to waver.” Senator Stevens spoke into his private cell phone. “Now he’s trying to decide which path to choose. And he’s actually listening to input from all sides for Christ sakes.”
“Is that all you have to report?” The voice at the other end was synthesized and scrambled. “I wish you had
