put the country another half trillion dollars in debt?”
Olson was caught off guard by the blunt comment. “Michael, things are very complicated right now. and considering our current national security crisis, a balanced budget is the least of my concerns.”
“Erik, the most serious problem facing our country today is the national debt, not the fact that a couple of corrupt and self-serving egomaniacs were killed.” Olson paused before answering. He did not want to be drawn into a fight with O’Rourke. “Michael, I
understand your concern, but the important thing for America right now is to stop these terrorists, and the first step to doing that is to show a unified front. We cannot be threatened into reforms. This is a democracy.”
“So you’re not going to suggest any budget cuts.” O’Rourke made no attempt to hide the disgust in his voice. “Michael, there are more important things for us to worry about right now than a balanced budget.”
“That’s bullshit, Erik. You know it, and I know it. Look at the damn numbers. Now is our chance to do something about it!”
“Michael, right now the national debt is of secondary concern. The important thing is to not appease terrorism.”
“Erik, why are you so dead set on calling these people terrorists?
They haven’t killed any civilians. They killed four corrupt politicians who have abused and manipulated the powers of their office-four politicians who have mortgaged the entire future of this country so they could keep their special-interest groups happy and get reelected.”
“Michael, I won’t listen to you talk about those men that way!”
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Olson’s voice became shaky. “It’s the truth, Erik. Don’t turn these guys into something they weren’t, just because they were assassinated.”
Olson paused for a moment. “Michael, let me tell you something. I love you like a son, but you have a lot to learn. I’ve been in this town for over thirty years, and things aren’t always as simple as you make them out to be.” It was O’Rourke’s turn to raise his voice. “Do you want to hear simple, Erik?
I’ll give you simple. Over the last twenty years, you and all of your colleagues have spent our country into a five-trillion-dollar black hole. During that time we weren’t confronted with a serious economic crisis or a major war. You had no valid reason to spend that kind of money. I know you weren’t a willing participant, but the harsh reality is that you were there and you didn’t stop it. You have run up a five-trillion-dollar tab, and you’re all going to retire and stick us with the bill. That is the legacy that you will leave for your children.” O’Rourke paused for a second. “Shit, even now, with someone threatening your life, you aren’t willing to do the right thing. This is your last chance to do something about the mess you’ve created. Don’t let it slip away!” O’Rourke hit the end button on his phone and swore as he slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting a bicycle messenger who had cut in front of him. The truck came to an abrupt halt as its driver gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands.
Through clenched teeth O’Rourke asked himself out loud, “What is it going to take for these guys to do their jobs?” Olson stared at the receiver and then gently placed it in its cradle. Why were the Irish so damn emotional, he thought to himself. He knew
O’Rourke was right about the debt, but violence was not the answer. The system needed time to correct itself.
It did not need to be jump-started by terrorism and threats. Law and order needed to be maintained. After about ten seconds, he opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a file marked “National Debt.” One of his staffers gave him monthly updates on the debt and the projections for the future. Olson opened it and looked over the summary page.
The official numbers provided by the Stevens administration put the national debt at around $5.2 trillion. Olson knew this number did not represent the total national debt.
Money had also been borrowed from the Social Security fund, and knowing the government’s track record on underestimating the cost of programs, he figured the debt was probably closer to $6 trillion. He quickly glanced over some estimates of what the debt would do over the next five, ten, fifteen, and twenty years.
The numbers were truly horrifying. O’Rourke was right. If it wasn’t confronted, it would eventually bring the country to its knees. A bankrupt America was not the legacy he wanted to leave for his grandchildren, but neither was an America that tolerated terrorism.
Jack Lortch climbed up the last flight of stairs and onto the roof of the White House.
Special Agents Sally Manly and Joe Stiener followed as Lortch surveyed the rooftop
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scene. He was pleased to see that the six counter-sniper agents already on the roof were at their posts and watching their area of responsibility. Lortch was under a lot of stress and was trying his best to look calm. Joe Stiener went into the small guardhouse and filled up three cups of coffee, handing one to his boss, one to Manly, and keeping the other for himself. Lortch walked over to the south edge of the roof and looked up at the gray sky.
Stiener and Manly stood several steps behind their boss and said nothing. After the sun had burned off the early-morning fog, it had looked as if it would be a bright day, but then, just before ten, a thick blanket of high, gray clouds moved in. A slight wind was coming from the southwest at about five to ten knots. Lortch’s gaze shifted from the sky to the treetops, and he couldn’t help but notice the bright fall colors of the changing leaves. While sipping his coffee, he thought about how little he’d slept the past week. He was nearing the end of his rope and was looking forward to handing the President off to the Camp David team and getting some much needed sleep. But before he could do that, he had to get the President to Camp David in one piece.
Late the previous evening, they had met to discuss security arrangements, and Lortch had recommended to the President that the meetings be held at the White House instead of Camp David. Garret had shot the idea down before the President had a chance to think it over.
Garret had said, “Jim, the public needs to see that you’re not confined to the White
House. They need to see you get on board Marine One and fly off to Camp David for the weekend. It will make you look like a leader, and besides, Camp David is more secure than the White House.”
