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Camp David
15 February
0445 Local Time
Johnson was sitting in the Presidential Office going over his notes for his address of the nation when Bradley entered. He had been up nearly twenty-four hours straight, but he was running on adrenaline and caffeine. Years of work, planning, and preparing had finally come to fruition.
He pored over the words a final time. He had decided to address the nation immediately. He wanted them to know he was in control. It was important that the American people see his resolve in dealing with the terrorists responsible. He would be a wartime president, and the people would love him for it.
Johnson looked up to see Bradley standing in front of his desk. His Chief of Staff was frowning with an almost pained expression as he stood waiting to be acknowledged. Johnson glanced at the closed door before looking back at Bradley.
“You don’t have to put up the façade in here, Marvin,” Johnson said as he returned to his notes. “Now tell me, do you think I should mention airstrikes in this speech or wait until the news sets in?”
Bradley shook his head, “It’s not good, sir.”
Johnson put his pen down and pulled off his reading glasses, “What, Marvin? You’re not having cold feet, are you? It’s a little late for that.”
Johnson noticed Bradley’s hands were shaking down by his side. “They’re not dead,” he said timidly.
“Who’s not dead?” Johnson snapped.
“The Midway mission checked in a few minutes ago,” Bradley said. “They recovered six hostages that had escaped in a boat.”
Johnson shot to his feet with wide eyes. “What?”
“Admiral McCallister just told me,” Bradley said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his shaking right hand. “They confirmed the names of the hostages.”
“Was it the President?” Johnson demanded.
“No. Secretary of State Martha, Master Sergeant Graves, Master Sergeant Lee, Michael Salvo—”
“Oh, thank God!” Johnson interrupted “Don’t scare me like that. We can deal with a few hostages. In fact, it might be better. The rescue attempt worked. We can spin it.”
“Special Agent Decker and Calvin Martin,” Bradley continued.
“What?” Johnson yelled in a high-pitched tone.
“They picked them up and brought them to the U.S.S. Jacksonville to be transferred to the Ronald Reagan where they will be debriefed,” Bradley said. “I was in the room with McCallister when he confirmed it.”
“That son of a bitch just won’t die!” Johnson shouted.
“Sir—”
“That’s ok,” Johnson said, calming down. “Have them arrest him. We can still pin this on him. We can ship his ass to Gitmo as a terrorist. Both of them.”
Bradley shook his head. “I don’t think that will work,” he said.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because he was saving the Secretary of State,” Bradley replied. “You know she won’t go with anything you say. She has never gotten along with you. That’s probably why her staff let Martin on Air Force One in the first place.”
“Well then we’ll have to keep her from speaking,” Johnson said in a low voice as he walked around the desk to face Bradley.
“We can’t kill her,” Bradley said in a frantic whisper as he threw up his hands. “We need to be thinking about damage control.”
“That is damage control, Marvin,” Johnson shot back. “We’re already all in on this.”
“Let me think of something,” Bradley replied. “I can spin this in our favor. Just give me some time to think.”
“What do I say in this speech, then?” Johnson asked.
“You can tell them that our rescue efforts were—”
Bradley was interrupted by a banging at the door, followed by the gruff voice of General Kelly yelling, “Mr. President!”
Johnson’s eyes shifted to the door as he nodded for his Chief of Staff to open it. “Stick to the narrative,” he said under his breath.
General Kelly pushed past Bradley and stormed into the office. “Sir! I have great news!”
“What is it, General?” Johnson asked tersely. “I’ve already heard about the hostages.”
“No, sir!” Kelly said quickly. “It’s the President. She’s safe!”
“What?” Johnson said as his eyes widened. His heart skipped a beat as the words left the surly general’s mouth. He couldn’t have heard what he thought he’d just heard.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I wanted to be sure,” General Kelly said enthusiastically. “Air Force One checked in with our airborne AWACS about a hundred and fifty miles off the coast of Midway about twenty minutes ago.”
Johnson rolled his eyes. “General, Air Force One was on fire. I seriously doubt anyone flew it out. You saw the pictures.”
Kelly shook his head. “No, sir. Air Force One is the callsign of any Air Force aircraft with the President on it. It was the F-15 Delta from Kadena that we talked about earlier this evening. It’s very legit, sir.”
Johnson reached backwards and grabbed the desk, using it to prop himself up. He looked over at Bradley whose mouth was agape. He tried to gather himself as best he could. He couldn’t afford to give away his displeasure to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
“General, how do you know that President Clifton is actually on that aircraft?” Johnson asked as he regained his composure.
“Two F-22 Raptors that were doing combat patrols to keep the airspace clear three hundred miles to the south with tanker support were vectored to intercept them, sir,” General Kelly said. “They closed in to a fingertip formation and verified a female passenger in an orange jumpsuit wearing a headset in the back seat.”
“General, is it possible to recognize a person from another aircraft?” Bradley asked. “Are we sure it’s her and not someone claiming to be her? Perhaps another attack or diversion?”
“Based on the evidence, sir, I am reasonably confident that the President is on board that aircraft,” General Kelly replied without turning back to Bradley. “They were able to rejoin to within a few feet and both confirmed it. I can’t see them making that kind of mistake.”
Johnson forced a smile as the general waited for a reply. “This is good news,” he said. “When will they land?”
“Assuming no issues with the refueling, I’d say between two and two and a half hours, sir,” Kelly responded after looking at his watch.
“Keep me updated, General,” Johnson said. “In the meantime, I want you to personally monitor her flight to Hickam. Make sure everyone is on high alert for a possible deception. After what we’ve been through today, anything is possible.”
“Yes, sir,” Kelly said with a big smile and renewed sense of purpose. “Will that be all, sir?”
“That will be all, General,” Johnson said. Bradley and Johnson watched the general march out of the room. Bradley closed the door behind him and then leaned against the door before sinking to the floor.
“We’re fucked,” Bradley said, shaking his head dejectedly.
Johnson stumbled back to his chair and then crashed into the seat back, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he propped his head against the back.
“We’re not fucked,” Johnson said flatly. “We’re not.”
Bradley stood and walked up to Johnson’s desk. “Even I can’t spin this. If she’s alive, we’re done.”
“No, we’re not, Marvin,” Johnson said, waving his hand dismissively. “This is manageable.”
“You thought that stupid bitch Martha was a problem, but the President surviving is manageable?” Bradley said as he paced around the room. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives in prison!”
“Sit down, Marvin,” Johnson ordered. Bradley reluctantly took his seat across from Johnson as Johnson leaned forward.
“Now, you listen to me,” Johnson said in a menacing tone. “Now is not the time to lose your shit.”
“I’m not, but—”
“But nothing, Marvin,” Johnson growled. “This situation is manageable and we will do just that. You will do just that, Marvin.”
“But how, sir?”
“They don’t know anything,” Johnson said as he leaned back in his chair. “Nothing ties us to this. Not even that little shit Martin. Nothing.” Johnson wagged his finger.
“We did everything we could to save her, remember?” Johnson asked rhetorically. “We will be supportive and hand her back the keys to the castle. She will have a shit storm to deal with trying to figure out how to respond to it.”
“That’s a good point, sir,” Bradley said as he started to regain his confidence.
“And the Junior Senator is not equipped to deal with it,” Johnson said with a grin. “She’s going to fold under the pressure. Hell, she might even resign when she gets back. Either way, I showed leadership in a time of crisis. The country knows that. The whole world knows it. They will beg me to step in. And I will gladly and humbly do so, because that’s the kind of leader I am.”
“What about our friends, though?” Bradley asked.
“Fuck them,” Johnson replied. “They’re the ones that screwed the pooch on this one. We did everything they asked of us, just like Cuba. If they want more, then we’ll have to renegotiate our pricing.”
Bradley smiled. “I like the way you think, sir.”
“Of course, you do, Marvin,” Johnson replied with a sinister grin. “That’s why I hired you.”