6
DEARBORN HOUSE, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
They took a break late in the morning. The discussion about what to do with the prisoners in the east continued for at least an hour after Kip had made it clear he wanted to take Sarah Humboldt’s settlement plan to Cabinet. Having been told it was his responsibility to make sure any plan was workable and saleable, Jed Culver applied himself in spite of his misgivings. He still thought the best solution was to pack them on a raft made out of beer barrels and wave them off at the docks during hurricane season. But he understood the President’s reasoning and was grateful that he himself would have some control over the outcome. It might even be possible, according to Ritchie, to turn some of the fighters completely around and send them back against …
Against who?
Bilal Baumer’s movement seemed to have topped out with him. As best they could tell, he had been killed in Manhattan. It was unfortunate they hadn’t been able to lay hands on a body, or even a scrap of DNA. This wasn’t going to turn out like bin Laden, with a couple of goat farmers wandering into town with his severed head on a stick and their hands held out for the reward money. But there was very good intelligence placing Baumer in the ruins of the Rockefeller Center, surrounded by US ground forces, an hour before 2nd Bomb Wing’s B-52s had atomised the complex and everybody in it. As far as anyone knew, none of the leadership cadre had survived. The US Army had captured only small-unit commanders away from the site of Baumer’s last stand, all of them now held out at Fort Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary, north of Kansas City. None of those bastards knew of any higher authority than their so-called Emir. The pirate bands that had been captured, especially the Serbs and Russians, who surrendered en masse once they’d seen the hammer come down on Baumer, were likewise convinced that he was the mastermind. And deader than disco.
In the darkest corners of his heart, Jed remained unconvinced, and he knew that Kipper, even though he wanted to put the episode behind them, couldn’t do so until he was certain the men responsible for New York had all been captured or killed. The President might ignore the pawns, but he wanted to know for sure the king had been taken from the board.
‘Sorry about the ambush.’
James Ritchie had caught him unawares, wool gathering by a window looking out past the Christmas tinsel and over the grounds of Dearborn House. A good couple of inches of snow had fallen, blanketing the ground and capping the hedges and garden furniture. Culver abandoned his thoughts to the cold.
‘You didn’t need to sandbag me like that,’ he said, cutting to the point. ‘I pushed the President pretty hard to get you in here. I was impressed with the way you held it all together out in Hawaii. If you thought Sarah’s plan was a good one, you could’ve just told me. I might not have agreed, but I would have taken your opinion seriously.’
Ritchie had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘Yes, I can see it was a mistake now. But Ms Humboldt sought me out in confidence and asked if I would keep her proposal to myself. It didn’t seem an unreasonable request. I’ve spent my life inside a chain of command that operates on a need-to-know basis. Needless to say, I’m still finding my feet here.’
He moved his shoulders around inside his off-the-rack navy blue suit. It was obvious to Jed that the National Security Advisor needed a tailor who could do more than sew patches onto jackets.
‘To be frank,’ Ritchie continued, ‘I miss the certainties of wearing a uniform.’
Just then, Kipper’s secretary waved to them from the far end of the hallway, calling them back to the meeting. Culver clapped a hand on the admiral’s shoulder, taking note of the cheap fabric. He decided not to ruin the peace gesture by saying as much. Instead, he made a mental note to see about getting this guy to a tailor.
‘If keeping someone’s secret is the worst thing you do in politics, you can consider yourself lucky, Admiral.’
‘Politics?’ Ritchie looked surprised. ‘I don’t think of this as politics, Jed. More like public service.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Culver, brightening considerably. ‘Dissembling with the best of us.’
They walked down the hallway, observed by portraits of presidents past, and re-entered Kip’s office via the anteroom, the door being held open for them by a Secret Service officer. The current US President was finishing off a sandwich, gazing out of the window at the snowfall. He waved them back to their seats as he returned to his own place, behind the generously proportioned desk that dominated one side of the room.
‘Now, Paul’s going to take us through the budgetary position, using small words and big numbers so that I can understand,’ he said, with a warning tone that wasn’t entirely to be taken as a joke. Secretary McAuley, who seemed to have not moved at all during the break, preferring to remain in his chair reviewing his papers, thanked the President.
‘Did you read that book I gave you on the Federalist Era, Mr President?’ Culver asked. ‘I’m not joking - you’ll find this Treasury stuff a whole lot easier to digest if you have a sense of history.’
Kip looked pained. ‘I’m trying, Jed. I’m trying. I’m more of a biography man.’
‘I gave you a copy of Miller’s biography on Alexander Hamilton as well,’ the Chief of Staff pointed out.
Kipper rubbed his head at that. ‘Well, the Federalist book is easier, but not by much. Paul, break it down for us laymen, if you would.’
‘Certainly, Mr President. The situation remains dire,’ he began, ‘although there are some positives. The call on supplementary spending for the armed forces has abated considerably as the last federal units rotate out of New York. Governor Schimmel’s state militia have resumed control of Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs, augmented by private security forces funded from salvage concessions in the interior rather than directly out of consolidated revenue.’
‘If I may, Mr Secretary?’ Ritchie raised his hand. ‘Some of those savings should come by leaving heavy equipment stored in New York for future use, either by the state or federal authorities in the future. Am I correct?’
‘That is correct,’ McAuley replied, nodding his head. ‘We only have to bear the cost of transporting troops who are still on active duty or wish to return to their original duty stations for discharge. Some troops will be discharged directly into New York’s state militias or into the civilian workforce, which will serve to reduce expenditures even further.’
‘So we’re not doing too badly, then,’ Culver interjected. ‘If there’s a safe place on the eastern seaboard today, it has to be New York. Next to KC and the Hood, it’s the most heavily armed and populated outpost in CONUS.’ He felt pretty good about that. Maybe in another year the joint naval base of Norfolk would join that list, if the Brits got a move on.
‘This is significant,’ Paul McAuley agreed. ‘Even after the end of major combat in the city, we were still haemorrhaging funds there. That difficult period is now behind us.’
The Secretary of the Treasury shifted in his seat, crossing his legs as though settling in for a long haul. Jed decided to avail himself of the sandwich plate. In many respects, McAuley was potentially the most powerful man in the room. Relegating Chief of Staff Culver to second place. Fortunately, while McAuley had Alexander Hamilton’s grasp of economics combined with a modern-day understanding of the imploded global economy, the egomania wasn’t included in the package, for which Culver was eternally grateful.
‘The line of credit negotiated with our Vancouver Alliance partners was activated at midnight last Friday,’ the Treasury chief continued, ‘guaranteeing our recurrent funding needs for the next twelve months. Once we agreed to pay our surviving creditors at face value with regular interest payments, our ability to regain credit was somewhat restored.’
‘So let me get this straight, Paul …’ It was Kipper now who held his hand up. ‘We’re just going to make the minimum payment. We’re not going to try to pay all of the debt off?’
‘We couldn’t if we wanted to, sir. Everyone knows that. It was not possible to pay off our debt prior to the Wave either. However, if we maintain our interest payments to the top six surviving creditors - aside from China, who are no longer a unitary state creditor - then we can restore a minimum level of faith, enough to grant us credit for funds to sustain us through the short term.’
‘I’ll never quite get over this notion that debt can be a good thing,’ Kip sighed. ‘You pay your bills, that’s what I was taught.’
Culver could not resist. ‘Spoken like a true Republican, Mr President.’
Kipper glowered at him.
