thousand times bigger than any conventional bomb ever dropped on anyone.
“Eleven days from now, they are going to launch those babies at this range of mountains, right here on this next chart…here…La Palma in the Canary Islands…probably from close range. And that will cause, from a huge height, the biggest landslide this world has seen for around ten thousand years. Straight into the Atlantic.
“The resulting tidal wave, or tsunami, as it is called, will develop into a succession of waves, 150 feet high, which will hit the East Coast of the United States nine hours later.”
“How big will the waves be at the point of coastal impact?”
“About 120 to 150 feet.”
“You mean, straight over New York?”
“Correct.”
“Will the waves break onto the city?”
“No sir. Tsunamis keep right on going. Probably break about ten to fifteen miles inland.”
Paul Bedford drew in his breath sharply. “Have you asked top scientists their opinion on this likelihood?”
“Of course.”
“How many did you ask?”
“About twenty.”
“And how many of them agreed, conclusively, that this will happen?”
“All of ’em.”
“Jesus Christ,” said the Vice President. “This is going to happen. Unless we can stop it?”
“Precisely. And we cannot stop it by negotiation, or by compliance, because we have two noncooperative parties — Israel and the President of the United States. Anyway, we don’t have much more time. Which leaves us with two essential tasks — to evacuate the big East Coast cities and attempt to destroy either the incoming missiles or the submarine, or both.”
“And you anticipate having to sideline the President?”
“No. We anticipate the removal of the President.”
Bedford looked up abruptly.
“When?”
“This afternoon. Right after lunch.”
“You realize I am in office as the Vice President, and I am sworn to support Charles McBride so long as he shall continue to faithfully execute the office of the President, and to the best of his ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution.”
Paul Bedford was quoting from the President’s sworn oath on the day of his inauguration.
“I guess allowing the Constitution of the United States to go under 50 feet of tidal wave might contravene that preserve-and-protect clause,” replied Admiral Morgan.
“Admiral, the whole scenario adds up to a total dereliction of duty. But you have to give President McBride one last opportunity to take this matter seriously. And you have to remember that I am in no position to play any role in the removal of the President from office.”
“We understand that, sir,” said the CJC. “However, we may have to put you on notice to stand by to
And he added, “No one in this room wants this to happen. We don’t want to be involved in some kind of a Third World junta, removing the President. But this is deadly serious, and only the United States armed forces can avert it, or, in the event of a successful Hamas attack, prepare the populace to deal with it. Remember, the President has already refused, flatly, to grant permission to lay out a Navy submarine trap in the Eastern Atlantic.”
“And are you working on that? Moving ships into the area?” Bedford looked from one to the other.
“Of course we are, sir. But we cannot go on like this, operating in defiance of our own Commander in Chief.”
“No, you cannot. I understand that.” The Vice President was beginning to look more worried than Arnold Morgan, who was frowning right now like General Custer at Little Bighorn.
The former National Security Adviser concluded the outline of the massive task that the military faced. “Paul,” he said, “we have to evacuate not only millions of citizens, but also the treasures of this nation, our entire systems of government and business. Right here in Washington, we need to move great works of art, much of the contents of the Smithsonian, not to mention historical papers from the Library of Congress, the White House, and God knows where else.
“In New York, we have to move the art from the great museums. We have to get the entire Stock Exchange — hardware and software — out of range of the ocean. We have to evacuate hospitals, schools, universities, and, most important, people. And we need a strong military presence to prevent looting.”
“I understand that,” replied the Vice President.
“This operation will involve the military commandeering railroad trains, the New York subway, buses, maybe trucks, and even private cars. This is a national emergency, and we have to be prepared. If this bastard gets those missiles under way, we have to accept the possibility of New York, Boston, and Washington being wrecked as comprehensively as Berlin in World War II.”
Paul Bedford was thoughtful, and the room fell silent for a few seconds. “Only the United States military could possibly take care of such a situation,” he said at last. “Have you thought of a chain of command?”
General Scannell looked up. “Sir, I am proposing to appoint Admiral Morgan to head up the entire operation. He first alerted us to the problem and, in the course of things, identified the threat as serious. In company with Admiral Morris and Lieutenant Commander Ramshawe, Arnold Morgan has made all the running.
“He is an experienced Naval officer, vastly experienced in politics, and capable of masterminding a plan that may allow us to nail the aggressor. I have no hesitation in appointing him Commander in Chief of Special Op High Tide. And Special Adviser to the President. Above all, every branch of the military, the Intelligence community, and politicians will listen to him.
“Any other course of action would be unacceptable.”
“And where do you suggest he works from?” already knowing the answer.
“Oh, the White House, most definitely, since he will have to call the shots.
“Bear in mind — this situation will probably last for only a couple of weeks,
This, more than anything, revealed to Paul Bedford the gravity of the situation — Military Command in the Oval Office. It couldn’t be done any other way. He saw that.
“Will you require me to fulfill any duties during the transition period early this afternoon?” he asked simply. A general sigh of relief went through the room. The main hurdle had been passed.
“Better not,” said General Scannell. “We intend to ask just once for the President’s cooperation, then remove him from office. At which point we shall have an announcement prepared, to the effect that the President has suffered a serious nervous breakdown and has retired, with his family, temporarily, to Camp David. Of course he will be under ‘house arrest,’ without contact to the outside world whatsoever.
“Right then, we’ll have the Judge, appointed by the Supreme Court, to swear you into office in the White House.”
“And the great offices of State? Who will you be getting rid of?”
“Not really,” replied General Scannell. “Though that idiot Defense Secretary and the National Security Adviser will have to go immediately, before Arnold throttles them both. And you’ll probably want to appoint your own Chief of Staff. So that buffoon Hatchard will have to go.”
Paul Bedford said, softly, words he never expected to utter: “Correct. Romney and Schlemmer must go immediately. I’ll explain to Hatchard that with his boss gone, this is the end of his West Wing tenure.”
Scannell spoke for everyone in the room when he said, “Sir, everyone at this table is very grateful for your
