“Are you ready for this?” Mitchum asked.
Young forced a smile. “I’m always ready.” It was a lie. His palms were beading up with sweat. After a deep breath, he winced.
“Is everything all right?” Mitchum asked.
“I started thinking about this speech and bringing out the girl from Afghanistan,” Young said. “Do you think this is a good idea? As far as I know, Evana Bahar is still on the loose since none of our agencies have been able to apprehend her.”
“It’s always been risky, but not because there’s terrorist lurking in the city,” Mitchum said. “Some people might view it as a political stunt even though this type of compassion is consistent with your administration.”
“What if we changed it?” Young asked.
“Well, you’re the president, and you can make that call if you want to. However, the media already has a copy of this speech, and if you decide not to bring out A’isha, that alone might overshadow anything you have to say.”
“We certainly don’t want to have the message lost because of that. Tonight is too important of a moment.”
Mitchum stepped back and inspected Young again. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable with it, scratch it. You need to look as confident as you feel. Every twitch, every hand gesture, every word—they will all be parsed by the press corps and discussed at length in the coming days. If you falter here, it could spell trouble for the support you need to push your administration’s agenda through this term.”
“This is a tough decision, one I don’t think I can win with either way. But I think I’ll be much more at ease if she’s not up there with me.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Mitchum shuffled across the room to open the door. Another staffer spoke in a hushed tone with him.
“What is it?” Young asked.
“Sir, A’isha wants to speak with you before your speech,” Mitchum said.
“I thought I told you . . .” Young trailed off as he saw the young girl appear in the doorway.
“Sir, here’s A’isha,” Mitchum said, ushering her in along with a translator. “A’isha, the President of the United States.”
“Nice to see you, Mr. President,” she said with a faint smile through the translator. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.”
She strode toward Young, showing off her new prosthetic leg. After walking for a few feet, a wide grin spread across her face.
“I can even jump now,” she said. “Would you like to see?”
Young couldn’t help but chuckle, nodding as he did. “Of course, by all means show us what you can do now.”
A’isha squatted and then leaped up, throwing her hands in the air and giggling. She stuck her landing.
“Impressive,” Young said. “Is there anything you intend to do with your new leg now?”
“I want to play football,” she said. “Not the American kind—real football.”
Young nodded. “I understand.”
“After the accident, I spent a lot of time watching my brothers while my mother was away at work. And all they did was kick the ball, but I could never play with them. Now, thanks to your country’s kindness, I will be able to do that now.”
“Your smile is infectious,” Young said. “And I’m sure your story will inspire millions of people around the world tonight. War is a horrible thing, but the life that springs from darkness is stronger than we ever imagined.”
“You sound like a wise man,” A’isha said. “Your country is lucky to have you leading it.”
She nodded respectfully, a gesture Young returned, before she spun toward the door and walked out.
Mitchum looked at Young. “Quite an impressive young lady, isn’t she?”
“Forget it. I’m keeping her in the speech. And can I get a translator? I may even let her talk.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Mitchum said. “You don’t want her to steal the spotlight from you, which a twelve-year-old girl from Afghanistan will undoubtedly do.”
“Why not? She’s polished, eloquent, and—”
“And she just flattered you. Don’t let that distract you from the overall purpose of the evening, which I can promise you will be derailed if you let her speak into the microphone.”
“Okay, okay,” Young said. “She’s just electric. You know what I mean?”
“I do, but let’s forget about that for right now and get focused on what you have to say to the American people.”
* * *
A HALF-HOUR LATER, Young marched onto the stage amidst a tepid response, enthusiastic among his fellow party members, obligatory on the other side of the aisle. It looked like the beginning of every other State of the Union address for the past forty years, with the rare exception of a couple when Ronald Reagan held office.
After a brief welcome and introduction, Young launched into the heart of his speech. He implored Congress to enact legislation that would help the middle class while laying out an agenda for how he planned to strengthen Homeland Security and prevent terrorists from worming their way onto U.S. soil. Then he ventured into the most critical portion of his talk, tackling the five hundred pound gorilla on his back.
“What happened at the dedication of the National Security Complex recently has shaken every American I know, especially the accusation that I’m negotiating with terrorists. And I feel like I do owe the American people an explanation.”
He paused to take a sip of water before continuing.
“There have been several occasions—I could count them all on one hand—where we felt like it was in our best interest to deal with terrorists in a non-traditional way. As a general rule, our nation has rejected attempted talks with radical extremist groups, no matter what leverage they claimed to hold over us. We will never be held hostage by demands. However, there have been a few select times when it was in the best interest of our
