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Camp David
14 February
2208 Local Time
There was a stunned silence as the video on the large flat screen TV ended and the screen turned blue. The Vice President stood in the middle of the room, in shock at what he had just witnessed. Behind him, the Speaker of the House, cabinet members, and the Joint Chiefs sat at a long table. They were in Camp David’s secure video teleconference room, having just watched the live execution of the Deputy Director of the FBI.
Johnson stood staring at the blue screen as chatter erupted behind him.
“Mr. Vice President, I can have a SEAL team inserted within a few hours,” Admiral McCallister said after conferring with one of his aides. “We will stand down this threat before they can hurt anyone else.”
The group suddenly became quiet as Johnson turned slowly to face them. He made eye contact with everyone in the room before fixing his gaze on the Admiral.
“And in doing so, you will assure the assassination of the President of the United States,” Johnson replied, still staring down the Admiral. “We cannot risk an operation in broad daylight, Admiral.”
“I think what the Admiral meant to say is that there are several military options on the table, sir,” Secretary of Defense Chaz Hunt interjected. He had worked for Johnson as Deputy Secretary of Defense during Johnson’s tenure in the previous administration, taking over as Johnson left to campaign with Clifton. Johnson had personally recommended Hunt as the person to continue as Secretary of Defense in the new administration – to ensure a smooth transition, and more importantly, someone who would work in lockstep with the administration.
“And what’s your take, Chaz?” Johnson asked as he began to pace back and forth in front of them.
The Secretary of Defense stood and cleared his throat. “I think discretion is the better part of valor in this case, sir. We need to find out who exactly we’re dealing with and what their intentions are before we risk more lives,” he said.
“We’re talking about the President of the United States,” Speaker of the House Todd Kent interjected. “These aren’t some journalists that wandered into occupied territory in Syria. This is the leader of the free world, and we just watched them murder the Deputy Director of the FBI for Christ’s sake. Do we really want to wait and see if this group beheads the most powerful person in the world? Do you know what kind of panic that would cause worldwide?”
Johnson walked over to where Kent was sitting and stood in front of him. Kent’s hands were shaking. He was visibly upset by the scene he had just witnessed.
“Mr. Speaker, we’re all obviously very upset by what we just witnessed,” Johnson said softly. “But we’re dealing with very dangerous and well-organized individuals here. I don’t want to see the President beheaded on the world’s stage, but I also don’t want her to die because we tried to John Wayne it. This truly is a no-win situation.”
The Speaker nodded slowly as he looked away. He and President Clifton had been good friends, both in and out of Washington. He had been one of the driving forces behind her winning of the party’s nomination.
“Mr. Chapman, what do we know about this group so far?” Johnson asked, turning his attention to the Director of Central Intelligence standing near the door.
Chapman stepped forward. “Sir, I have every analyst at Langley dissecting this video and trying to find out everything they can right now. I do recognize the flag in the background, and I believe this group to be the same or related to the group that took responsibility for this morning’s attacks,” Chapman replied.
“To what end?” Johnson asked.
“Jihad, sir,” Chapman responded. “The group is aligned with the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, also known as ISIL or ISIS. Their stated end goal is the restoration of the caliphate of Islam and eventual expansion into the Western world.”
“And this group is from China?” Johnson asked. He took a seat in a chair next to the table and crossed his legs as he listened intently.
“We’re working on that part now, sir. As I told the President earlier, the Chinese have shared very little information about The Islamic State of Uyghur and their counterterrorism efforts. Secretary of State Martha had been working on trying to get cooperation, per the President’s orders, but obviously she’s unavailable at the moment,” Chapman replied coldly.
There was a collective gasp as Chapman’s words hung in the air. Johnson watched as everyone in the room seemed to glare at the country’s highest-ranking spy. Although Chapman had stated the obvious, it was clear he had struck a nerve with the cabinet members. Johnson decided to play on it.
“‘Unavailable at the moment.’ Do you think that’s appropriate, Director Chapman?” Johnson said as all eyes returned to him. “Given the situation at hand?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“This is a stressful time for all of us, Director,” Johnson interrupted. He waved his long, slender hands in the air dismissively. “We must not only choose our actions carefully, but also our words.”
Chapman nodded submissively as Johnson stood and turned back to the rest of the cabinet members.
“Our President is unable to perform her duties at the moment,” Johnson continued, “but she handpicked each and every one of us knowing that we could step forward in her absence and continue moving forward. We cannot let her, or the country down.”
Johnson paused and made eye contact with the Speaker of the House as he let his words sink in. “Ladies and gentlemen, make no mistake about it, our country is in crisis. What we do in the next twenty-four hours will echo in eternity.”
Johnson watched as people around the room nodded in agreement. He could see it in their faces. He was winning them over.
“In the meantime,” Johnson said. “Director Chapman, do we have any prisoners from this organization in Gitmo?”
“Not that I am aware of, sir,” Chapman replied.
“What about ISIL?”
“We have detainees from the current area of operations, sir,” Chapman responded.
“Get me a list of five suitable candidates for trade,” Johnson said.
“Mr. Vice President, you’re not seriously considering negotiating with these terrorists are you?” a voice in the back corner of the room asked. Johnson looked over to see the crowd standing in the back part, revealing Senator Art Wilson, the Senate Majority Leader, Chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, and Clifton’s former opponent in the presidential race.
“I’m glad you could make it, Art,” Johnson said. “But no, we are not negotiating. We’re buying time. We have less than an hour before the next hostage will be killed. One of the demands was that we release our prisoners. We can prevent another tragic loss of life while we come up with a reasonable plan of action.”
“And show weakness in the process,” Wilson shot back.
“Now is not the time for partisan bickering, Senator,” Johnson replied. “We must stand united to face this threat. The office of the President transcends party lines. We must do everything we can to protect that office. I’m asking you to reach across the aisle and stand with us for the good of the country.”
“I have the good of the country in mind,” Wilson said.
“Good,” Johnson said, turning his back to Wilson. “We have less than an hour. Get with your respective organizations and be ready for another briefing in thirty minutes. Including a plan for the release of detainees.”
With the meeting adjourned, everyone stood as the Vice President walked out followed by his Chief of Staff. Johnson walked out of the secure teleconference room and directly to the President’s office.
“Shut the door,” he said, motioning to Bradley while sitting down in the brown executive chair. He rubbed his temples and let out a prolonged sigh.
“That was outstanding, sir,” Bradley said enthusiastically. “Very presidential.”
“Wilson may be an obstacle,” Johnson said. “I think he grandstands for the sake of it.”
“You shut him down, sir,” Bradley replied as he took a seat across from the elder statesman. “Your speech was inspiring. I think it gave everyone goose bumps.”
Johnson frowned at Bradley. “You can stop now,” he said snidely.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that was even better than I imagined it,” Bradley responded, unfazed by Johnson’s negative response. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t invoke the Twenty-Fifth Amendment in that conference. The timing couldn’t have been better.”
“Patience, Marvin,” Johnson said dismissively. “In business, the best deals are when you convince them to come to you.”
“You’re so right, sir,” Bradley replied.
“Does the press know yet?” Johnson asked, changing the subject back to the task at hand.
“Not yet, sir,” Bradley answered. “Right now, they have been told that Air Force One is blacked out due to operational security in response to the attacks.”
“Let’s push the narrative along a bit, shall we?”
“What did you have in mind, sir?” Bradley asked as he leaned forward to the edge of his chair.