91

Oxley returned to a tumultuous Cabinet Room. Only a few attendees were still seated. The rest were gathered in front of the television set watching a rerun of Oxley’s speech. This time the screen was divided into three vertical panels, showing the three leaders speaking, with only Oxley audible.

Morris Bentley, a big man made bigger by a paunch, pushed up against Oxley, trying to go through the door. A Secret Service agent behind Oxley took a side step and shoved Bentley, who fell back into one of the chairs lining a wall.

In a small screen at the lower right of the big screen was Ned Winslow, a handsome, white-haired man in his late fifties, often proclaimed by GNN as “the most trusted newsman in television.” He was speechless at his World Newsroom anchor desk, looking confused, not only because of what he had just heard but also because he wasn’t sure what expression he should put on his face. He finally chose self-assured as he said, “And there you have it. A threatening asteroid is going to be nuked.”

The triple image faded and Jason Getchell reappeared at his White House observation post. The camera panned to the parked cars again.

“Now, back to Jason and the beginning of this momentous story,” Winslow said. He was still in a corner of the screen.

“So, Jason, do you believe that a declaration of war is likely?”

“I believe the situation has become incredibly complex, Ned. ‘Nuclear explosives’? President Oxley was obviously avoiding the word ‘weapon’ so as to not alarm Kim Jong-un … and perhaps his political foes who are still meeting with him right here.” Jason pointed toward the White House.

“As you know, Ned, GNN not long ago exclusively reported that Russia is about to unveil its mobile ICBM, which carries multiple warheads. My candidate for the asteroid shot is that missile.”

“A Russian nuke? A Russian missile?” Speaker Cross shouted at the screen. “This cannot stand.”

“And, Jason, about that unidentified man with General Amador,” Winslow said. “We have an ID. He’s Dr. Ben Taylor, the Your Universe TV show host. But we don’t know why he’s in the White House or why he left for the Pentagon with the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Keep checking on that one, Jason.”

“Right, Ned.”

A look of surprise crossed Winslow’s face. “This just in,” he said, improvising from whatever his producer had put on the teleprompter. “Secretary-General Thanasak Jayaraman has called an emergency meeting of the United Nations General Assembly to discuss the existential threat of an Earth-threatening asteroid.

“Also, Reuters is reporting that Britain’s prime minister, Edna Barclay, is quote ‘infuriated by the arrogance of the leaders of America, Russia, and China who have assumed possession of a potential deadly asteroid’ unquote.”

Margaret Edmonds elbowed her way to Oxley and shouted, “Homeland Security is ready, Mr. President.”

“Thank you, Margaret. I’m sure it is.”

Still at the door, Oxley cupped his hands around his mouth like a coach shouting on the sidelines: “Please, everybody! Please, in your seats!”

Bentley chose a wall chair by the door, now guarded by the agent who had shoved him. They briefly glowered at each other.

Oxley returned to his chair and said, “Turn that damned thing off.”

Falcone slipped past the dwindling viewers and turned off the set, instantly shifting everyone’s attention back to Oxley.

“I realize that every one of you has a question. But allow me to tell you what I intend to do. And then, I’m sure, you’ll have even more questions.” He managed a quick smile.

“I know you’ll agree that this is a unique moment. There are absolutely no precedents. We, the executive and legislative leaders, are dealing with a state of emergency beyond any conception of that phrase. And so, after much thought, I have decided that I must declare martial law.”

Ignoring the gasp and scattered babble around the table, Oxley continued. “Martial law, as all the lawyers in the room know, may be invoked when the President, as commander-in-chief, contemplates some vitally needed use of military resources. We need martial law as the legal authority for carrying out a massive evacuation of people living in coastal areas of the United States.”

“Impossible! Impossible!” shouted Cook, whose congressional district included a gerrymandered stretch of the Washington State coast.

“Please, Mr. Speaker—and every one of you who wants to comment—please wait until you hear my other major concern: continuity of government.

“Most of you,” Oxley continued, “have participated in computer simulations or actual drills that instruct governmental leaders in what might happen in the event of a nuclear war or catastrophic terrorist attack. Now, bracing for another kind of catastrophe, we must consider Washington as much imperiled as are all the other cities on Earth.

“So, before the attempt is made to destroy the asteroid, I will send a continuity-of-government team, headed by Vice President Reese, to the emergency underground Command Center in Raven Rock Mountain, Pennsylvania, which as you know, is a secret three-story underground facility about sixty-five miles north of Washington.”

Oxley went on to say, “By Executive Order, I am changing the line of succession, which has the president pro tempore of the Senate follow the Vice President and the Speaker of the House. Because of the chronic illness of the president pro tempore, I have made the majority leader the third in succession.”

Bentley looked as if he was going to speak, but an inner vision put him in the Oval Office, and he decided to remain silent.

“Military helicopters,” Oxley continued, “will transport the continuity team to Raven Rock. The team will include the officials in the succession line down to the secretary of the Treasury, and the attorney general. I shall also ask the chief archivist of the United States to deliver our most sacred documents—the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights—to Raven Rock.

“Although Secretary Winthrop is in the line of succession, he will be my principal military adviser and will remain in the Pentagon. I will remain in the White House. The National Gallery of Art, the National Museum of History, and other Smithsonian facilities will follow their standard plans for the preservation of their iconic holdings. Members of the U.S. Marshals Service, which is responsible for protection of the Supreme Court, will transport the justices to Raven Rock.

“Members of the House and Senate will have access to the High Point Special Facility in Mount Weather, Virginia. As many of you know, High Point is a large underground bunker like Raven Rock. The House and Senate leadership will determine how many lawmakers can safely occupy High Point and who they will be.

“As I told you in presenting Dr. Taylor’s report, the odds are that the impact site will be an ocean, and the result will almost certainly be monstrous tsunamis that will wipe out coastal areas. The evacuation of coastal areas and the continuity of government operation provide insurance policies in case the plan to destroy the asteroid fails completely or partially.

“As for the continuation of government plan, we must guarantee that the nation lives on, even if some of us do not.”

Oxley’s pause was solemn enough to inspire a silence—and the first question. It came from Margaret Edmonds, secretary of Homeland Security, the head of the third-largest department in the federal government. She was a tall, full-figured woman in a blue slacks suit. On Capitol Hill, she had the reputation of being the toughest bureaucrat in Washington.

“Mr. President,” she said, “regarding continuity of government, I call your attention to National Security Presidential Directive number fifty-one, which stipulates that the secretary of Homeland Security shall serve as the President’s lead agent for coordinating overall continuity operations. And so, Mr. President, it is I who should be your field director, not Secretary Winthrop.”

“I’m aware of that directive, which was proclaimed by one of my predecessors, Margaret. But ‘continuity of operations’ is not continuity of government—or continuity of the nation itself. As I said, we face an emergency unlike any ever seen. For that reason, I will produce my own continuity of government executive order, which will establish martial law not only for mass evacuations but also to serve and protect our people.”

He pointed to Winthrop, who sat closer to him than Edmonds did, a subtle reminder that, under the law of presidential succession, Winthrop was sixth in line and she sixteenth. “Secretary of Defense Winthrop will be running the overall military aspect of this emergency, calling upon you, Margaret, to provide him with whatever Homeland Security equipment, personnel, and expertise he requests. Next question?”

It was from Attorney General Malcomson: “Mr. President, I’m concerned about the imposing of martial law—or your personal version of martial law—in anticipation of need. After all, Mr. President, there may not even be an asteroid and, if there is, it may be destroyed before it reaches Earth.”

“I can understand your concern, Madam Attorney General,” Oxley said. “And I am sure there are many people in this room with questions about preparing for something we cannot see. Let me say this: I have less than a year to go as President. Thirty-nine days of that year are asteroid days. I intend to handle those thirty-nine days by working with you all. But somebody has to be the commander-in-chief, and the Constitution says it’s the President.”

In the sudden hush that followed, Speaker Cross stood and said, in his most oratorical cadence, “The Constitution also says the President may be impeached. What you have done is a High Crime! You have turned the security of America over to the Russians! To the goddamn Russians! As soon as I am released from this locked room, I shall go to the House of the People and present to the House Judiciary Committee a resolution of impeachment.”

“This meeting is over,” Oxley said, starting to walk out of the room.

Cristina Gonzales, the House minority leader, touched Oxley’s coat sleeve. “One moment, please, Mr. President,” she said. “What was Ben Taylor doing with General Amador?”

“Why not ask him, Cristina?” Oxley replied, nodding to Taylor, who was near enough to hear the question.

“The general wanted me to brief the Joint Chiefs,” Taylor said, turning to face Gonzales. “It’s an interesting place. I’d never been in the Pentagon.”

“How did they react?” Gonzales asked.

“They seemed to me to be highly competent men who are never surprised.”