Even the press will take up your cause, loving that ‘in-your-face’ attitude it will throw at Congress.”
“You really believe that, Josh?” Snow asked, his interest suddenly heightened.
“I’d work with you to see that it happened. You have my word on it.”
“A truly bi-partisan effort, you mean?”
“Oh, no,” he said, placing his coffee cup back on the saucer. “I’d have to be completely covert. Totally behind the scenes to try to convince some of my party that it would be a good time to get political hacks and lobbyists out of the executive recruitment business, putting their lackeys in office, then coming to them for favors. And I could support you in the media, with the obligatory cautionary statements to distance myself, of course,” he said, a small laugh following. “Remember, I am a South Carolina Baptist.” He laughed even louder. “I can’t be openly seen to be supporting an Arizona Catholic. Goodness gracious, how would all those fire and brimstone televangelists raise money if Christian religions starting agreeing with each other, admitting they weren’t the only ones who spoke for God?”
“You mean Jesus isn’t a Republican?” Snow said, joining Steadman in laughter. Turning serious, the new president leaned forward. “Josh, I’ll probably be in touch with you again on California, but for today, you came prepared to offer sage advice, right? Who you would recommend for the half-dozen key jobs? Vice president, for instance?”
“I have a few thoughts,” Steadman replied, “but I’d rather hear yours. I was sincere when I said this is your opportunity, not mine, for another go around. I served my time in that chair.” He nodded toward the chocolate- brown leather executive chair positioned behind the mahogany desk that once sustained Andrew Jackson’s presidency.
Snow rose from his seat and stepped over to the desk, retrieving a leather folder and walking back. He stood behind his chair for a moment, leafing through several papers in the folder. “Most of Cumberland’s selectees,” he said, waving the documents, “have already been through this office or on the phone, subtly and not so subtly trying to remind me of the promises made and of their willingness and capability to serve.”
“I’m sure they have,” Steadman replied, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Some of them are good men and good women, Josh. Good choices.”
“Well, then nominate them. But make sure they’re your choice as well as Cumberland’s. Even then, remember that they will be inclined to remind you that when Cumberland offered them the job, he ‘… gave them to understand, this and that…’”
President Snow nodded his agreement. “And as for the vice president, I really haven’t had a good thought about it. No name has jumped to the surface.” He paused, looking at his folder. “Hank Tiarks is a really good man, Josh,” he commented, again leafing through the papers. “But I think due to their friendship and level of trust, Cumberland wanted him in Homeland Security because he felt domestic security was going to be a real problem as these terrorist threats continue. I actually think that Cumberland wanted Tiarks as his vice president, but our party forced him to select me.”
“That could be, Bill, but don’t let it deter you from choosing someone you want. Are you thinking of Tiarks for VP?”
“Maybe. He’s well respected. Cumberland mentioned to me that he thought Tiarks would stand up to the heads of the various intelligence agencies. But I think his talents lie elsewhere. Law enforcement or direct action planning are not his strengths, at least as I see it.”
“What is his strength,” Steadman asked, “in your opinion?”
“Possibly VP, or Secretary of State. Perhaps even the United Nations. He’s well thought of abroad.”
“I agree. He could fill either of those slots. See, you’re on the right track already. And Homeland Security? Cumberland was right, you know. You’ll need someone you can trust who has exceptional judgment and the courage to implement his decisions. Someone who’s not beholden to the political world and not afraid of ruffling feathers in the intelligence community. It will take a tough individual, one who’s not constantly looking for his next higher office. Also, someone who isn’t inclined to push for military intervention in California. Someone familiar with the problem out there.”
“I don’t know about Homeland Security yet,” Snow said, flipping through a few more pages, “but I do know it will be at the forefront of a lot of action and public reaction, good and bad. I’m inclined to stick with Collins for SecDef. He’s come out publicly against military intervention in California, and he served well as Secretary of the Army under Eastman during his first term. Besides California, we anticipate much more domestic terrorism this decade. This is a long war, Josh. If history serves, it may even outlast the European Thirty Years’ War, or, heaven forbid, the Hundred Years’ War. It started during your term, Josh, but most attacks were abroad in those years. It’s a lot different now, even in the short time you’ve been out of office.”
“Well,” Steadman replied, rising from his seat and placing his coffee cup back on the table, “since you asked for my advice, let me tell you a bit about someone who is currently hidden away. Someone I came to trust explicitly. Someone who doesn’t give a hoot about higher political office.”
A quizzical look appeared on President Snow’s face. “Someone from Washington whom you trusted?”
Steadman laughed. “He’s not from Washington. Far from it, but he’s served his country in peace and in war, including the Washington wars, for nearly forty years.”
“You’ve got my attention,” Snow said, beginning to rise to the game.
The former president walked toward the small table in the corner of the room, a silver coffee service in place on its polished surface. “Let me refill my coffee cup and I’ll give you a couple of thoughts. Would you like a refill?”
Chapter 8
White House Oval Office
Washington D.C.
February
Lieutenant General William Austin, USAF, Ret., and Brigadier General Padraig Connor, USMC, were escorted into the Oval Office by Dixie, the president’s temporary secretary. President William Snow came out from behind his desk and greeted both men, smiling broadly.
“It’s been a long time, Pug,” the president said. “When I heard you were part of the president’s extended staff, I was surprised and quite pleased. How are your parents?”
“Very well, Mr. President.”
“General Austin,” the president said, turning his attention to Austin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He offered his hand. “Please, gentlemen, take a seat. General Austin, can I assume that General Connor has explained our distant family relationship?”
“Yes, Mr. President. When Pug… uh, General Connor called to advise me that you had requested my attendance this morning, he discussed your former relationship. I also understand his older brother is your son-in- law.”
“That’s correct. And has he explained our other former connection?”
“Sir, General Connor has also advised that you were partners in a law firm with his father. He casually mentioned that you taught him to play golf as well.”
The president laughed. “Too well, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t stand a chance against him, should we tee it up again. So, now that the familiarities are completed, I’m the one who needs to be brought up to speed. Pug, as my secretary mentioned yesterday, the purpose for this impromptu meeting was to brief me on your current position and the confidential task force you head. Can you succinctly describe the function of your office-what’s it called? The Office of Information and Public Relations? What does that office do for Homeland Security?”
Pug hesitated momentarily, a pensive look crossing his face. “Well, Mr. President, we don’t do public relations.”
President Snow smiled back at his former law partner’s son. “I surmised as much, General Connor. And I confess to a short briefing-yesterday morning, actually-from President Steadman. He said President Prescott had called him to discuss her intention to create your task force and wanted his opinion. He supported her intentions. I have no knowledge of where President Cumberland stood on the issue.”
