Lethal Trajectories (31 page)

Burkmeister grimaced in both physical and mental pain. He had come to grips with his terminal illness, but the unfinished business he was leaving to others was a crushing burden.

“You are talking about a perfect storm, Clayton. Inexorable forces of tectonic proportions in collision all at once: the energy crisis, terrorism in Saudi Arabia, economic chaos, and climate-change. Every one of them is on a lethal trajectory, all of them about to converge.”

Clayton nodded in appreciation of the president’s succinct summary. The perfect storm metaphor, while overused, captured the essence of the challenge with remarkable clarity.

“In the process,” Burkmeister continued with growing enthusiasm, “you’re taking on the longstanding entitlement mentality that has become so ingrained in our culture. We’ve been in denial for so long we don’t even know the truth. And when forced to think a little about our problems, we cling to our age-old belief there’s nothing out there technology can’t fix.”

“Absolutely, Mr. President, and I like using your perfect storm metaphor to present the crisis in terms we can understand.”

Burkmeister nodded enthusiastically.

“So here’s the idea,” Clayton continued, “No matter how we deal with the Saudi crisis, it’s going to require shock treatment in America: oil rationing, austerity, conservation, and doing without—things we haven’t done since World War II. This will be the crisis of our time.”

“Indeed, Clayton, I’m fascinated with where I think you’re going.”

“This may be our one and only chance to make the tough calls we’ve avoided over the past several decades. Energy, environmental, and economic issues are integrally linked. It’s impossible to deal with one set of issues without bumping into the others, and partial solutions just aren’t going to cut it this time. The immediacy of the crisis may generate the political will necessary to make real change.”

“I agree,” Burkmeister said, “but how will you translate all of this into a plan of action?”

“Well, first we position the Saudi crisis as a sneak attack on the American people and even the citizens of the whole world—which, in fact, it is. As we did with Pearl Harbor, we’ll use it as a rallying point for building the political will to transform the country. In addition to fighting the Mustafa regime, we’ll also tackle the other challenges we’ve let fester for decades, and in a spirit of shared sacrifice, the American people might be willing to do things they’d never have considered even a few days ago. Rather than let Congress attack every component issue by issue, we should position and package it as our
grand strategy
for defeating our enemy and restoring America. It sounds callous, but this is exactly the kind of campaign it’ll take to restore America and defeat Mustafa.”

“I think it’s a bold and brilliant vision,” Burkmeister stated. “You’ll have a modest honeymoon period as the new president and some solid support, given the crisis we are facing. This can all be put to good use, but your honeymoon will be fleeting. Your greatest challenge will be to put your grand strategy to work before it has a chance to unravel. We’re talking days and weeks, not months and years.”

“I agree with that analysis, Mr. President. The best we’ll be able to do is lay out a broad outline of guiding principles and strategies and then meld them together on the run. Pete Canton has done a lot of groundwork already on energy and climate-change, and we’ve been working the economic problem for quite some time. The challenge will be to integrate all of our efforts in a short timeframe.”

“Aren’t you forgetting one thing? Where is China in all this? A lot hinges on locking up a deal with China,” Burkmeister asked.

“I think we’ll need a grand plan with or without China, but it’ll be infinitely more difficult without them—particularly when it comes to generating leverage against the Saudis. We’ll also need China’s active cooperation if we are to address climate-change in any meaningful way.”

“It’s almost impossible to contemplate, Clayton, and I admire your courage and willingness to try it. I will do whatever I can to help—but I’m afraid I’m now on a very short string.”

“How are
you
doing, Mr. President?”

“I don’t want to complain, Clayton, but I had another severe attack last night. Doc Toomay said it’s the new norm, not just an aberration. I’ll need to take stronger pain medications, and that makes it harder to work. I’m not sure I can hold on until the fourteenth. I … if it comes to that, I’m so sorry. But I’ll do what I can to buy you more time.”

Clayton looked at his hands for a moment, unable to face a man apologizing for his own looming death. “Lyman, you … don’t apologize. I wish more than anything that you didn’t have to worry about your
job
—that you could kill the pain without fear. Look … if it’s too presumptuous of me, I’d like to take you up on your offer right away.”

“Absolutely. How can I help?”

“Here’s the deal, Mr. President, with the geopolitical tsunami in front of us, piecemeal efforts won’t work. I need your help to mobilize our efforts to make it happen. I would like to put forth my strategy before a joint session of Congress on October sixteenth. That means we have about two weeks to create a workable plan. To do it, I’m going to need the help of a lot of high-level people committed to knocking down turf walls and making the impossible happen.”

Burkmeister nodded, motioning for Clayton to continue.

“As a starting point, I’d like to convene the NSC later today to brief them on the Camp David meeting and engage them in developing our new grand strategy. I can’t get this cranked up without your strong endorsement and lead.”

Burkmeister leaned back in his chair and said, “I quite agree with your sense of urgency, and I think the NSC SWAT team’s the appropriate group to engage first.” He paused to think.

“Let me suggest that you host an NSC meeting at your house—later today, if that would work for you. The White House is swarming with reporters who would quickly pick up on a procession of NSC members. That’s attention we don’t need right now. I’ve asked the SWAT team to stick around the area in anticipation of some kind of meeting, given the Saudi crisis, so we’d be able to convene the whole group.

“I’d be happy to invite each of the members personally, if you are agreeable, Clayton. I’ll let them know you are acting with my full authority, and I won’t be too specific about the meeting other than to say it will be urgent and that you have my full support.”

“That would be a huge help, Mr. President. Would you feel up to attending?”

“Physically, I could, but this might be a good opportunity for you to put your own imprimatur on the group. I don’t want them looking over at me for approval—this is your show now, not mine. I’ll tell them when I call that you’re now the president of the United States, for all intents and purposes, and that anything you say or do is done with my authority and blessing. What time could you manage it?”

“Let’s make it four o’clock this afternoon, Mr. President. I’d like Peter Canton to attend as well, but I can make that call myself. If we finish the meeting at a reasonable time, would you like me to call you with the results?”

“Yes, I’d like that, Clayton. Please call me no matter what time the meeting ends. If there are any roadblocks or opposition, let me know and I’ll get on it. By the way, do you intend to bring up the matter of your vice-presidential replacement?”

“Yes, I do plan to cover that—after the meeting, I think. And I will call you with the news, Mr. President. I hope it will be good.”

Clayton left the White House deep in thought. Fifteen days to develop and present the grand strategy to the American people. He got into his limo and made three phone calls that would set the tone for the frenetic schedule of his next two weeks.

“Peter, this is Clayton, how are you doing?”

“Just fine, Mr. Vice-Presi … er, Clayton, how about you?” responded a surprised Peter Canton.

“Peter, I need to see you at my place at four this afternoon. You’ll be joined by members of the NSC SWAT team. Can’t talk about it now, but can you make it?”

“I’ll be there, and mum’s the word,” Peter said.

“Mum most definitely is the word, Peter, and I’ll see you there. By the way, you might want to drive yourself there. No point in tipping off any reporters looking for big black limos.”

His second call was to Maggie.

“Mags, I’m on my way home. I’ll tell you all about my meeting when I get home, but wanted to give you a heads-up that I’ll be having a full NSC meeting at our place at four.”

Maggie, sensing the urgency in Clayton’s voice, said only, “I’ll see you shortly, then, and I’ll make sure the staff here gets the reception hall ready. Should I arrange catering or anything?”

“We’re trying to keep this meeting quiet, so no official catering. But we’re likely to run late tonight—will you see whether we can get sandwiches or something? Thanks. Look, I’ve got to go. See you soon.”

His last call was to Jack, asking his brother to drop by about an hour before the meeting to strategize.

As his limo pulled up to the driveway of his residence, he wondered if the next occupant would feel the same special way about this place as he did. Hopefully he’d find out in the next few hours.

C
layton was in his den checking recent energy reports on the computer when Jack tapped on the door, walked in, and said cheerfully, “Hi, boss, what’s up?”

“Thanks for coming early,” Clayton replied, a slight edge in his voice. “We have a lot to talk about before the SWAT team arrives.”

“I’m all ears,” Jack said as he poured a cup of coffee and then pulled out his laptop. It was going to be a long evening.

“First of all, the president liked the summary you and Wang Peng put together. He asked a lot of questions and offered a number of good suggestions I’ll share with you.” Clayton found himself jotting down new ideas as he summarized the meeting.

“We’re in an unparalleled crisis,” he continued, “and we need to make clear to the SWAT team that this isn’t business as usual. We’ll need to jolt them out of their comfort zone quickly to foster the breakthrough thinking we need. There’s precious little time for extended debate.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jack replied, “given the state of things. How do you plan to proceed?”

“The president has already set the tone and tempo for this meeting by personally calling each of them,” Clayton replied. “I plan to make the point as bluntly as I can. I’ll tell them about the meeting at Camp David and the grand plan we need to develop for my address to Congress on the sixteenth. We’ll discuss the CIA report and Peter Canton’s memo on climate-change and then get the discussion going from there.”

“What’s the bottom line for you, Clayton? What do you want the outcome to be when they leave the meeting tonight?”

“Good question. Let’s see … ah, a couple of things: First, I want them to leave with a clear understanding that we are in crisis mode, that we need to throw out the old playbook and deal with this on the run. Second, they need to understand the interconnectedness of the multiple threats facing us and why the grand strategy must deal with
all
the moving parts. Incremental or piecemeal solutions won’t cut it this time, and that kind of thinking is not easy for folks living inside the Beltway. We’ll call our plan Operation Safe Harbors—I’ll explain the code name later.”

Their discussion continued until Maggie knocked on the door and popped her head in. “Hi, guys. I hate to interrupt, but your guests are starting to arrive. Shall I tell them you’ll be with them shortly?”

“Thanks, Mags,” Clayton responded, frustrated he didn’t have more time with Jack. “Please tell them we’ll join them in about five minutes.”

They quickly tied up a few loose ends, and then Clayton asked, “What do you think, Jack: will this work?”

“I always knew you were an underachiever,” Jack laughingly responded. With that, they left to join the others in the reception hall.

“I’d like to thank you for coming on such short notice,” Clayton opened. “I know you’ve talked to the president, by virtue of the fact that you’re here, and I would imagine that he conveyed to you the importance of this meeting.”

He sensed their uneasiness; they were apprehensive about the meeting and struggling to grasp Burkmeister’s declaration that McCarty was now, in effect, the president.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat the crisis we’re in, and I’ll speak with a directness I hope you’ll all emulate tonight. We’re all in the same foxhole, and we don’t have time to decipher the DC doublespeak we sometimes use to smooth over differences.

As you all know, we are facing a combination of threats we can neither stop nor avoid. The Saudi oil crisis will soon destroy the global economy and, in the process, trigger a number of other festering time bombs. The geopolitical environment is fragile: the American economy is ready to implode under the staggering weight of runaway debt and unfunded entitlement liabilities; a climate-change bombshell that we can no longer ignore has revealed itself; and we have a political system and population in denial.

“The American people—and the world, for that matter—will be looking to us for solutions, and Band-Aid approaches won’t cut it any longer. We need a grand strategy to comprehensively attack all of these problems, and we’re going to need it by October sixteenth: the date I plan to present our plan to a joint session of Congress.”

They were stunned. Even the most battle-hardened veterans on the SWAT team resembled terrified deer staring down the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck.

“I have much to share with you tonight, including a debriefing on a secret meeting Jack and I had this weekend at Camp David with Chinese chairman Lin Cheng and his chief of staff Wang Peng. Also …”

“Excuse me, Mr. Vice President,” interrupted Defense Secretary Thompson, “but was this a conference call or an actual face-to-face meeting?”

“It was a face-to-face meeting. I apologize for not bringing all of you into this earlier, but I’m sure you’ll understand why after I explain. Let me start with the big picture, and then we’ll cover the Camp David meeting.” Clayton guessed from Thompson’s expression that he was miffed at being kept out of the loop.