Executive Intent

“We don’t know that, Ken,” the president said, rubbing his eyes wearily. “We’re making a lot of assumptions here, and we could be screwing ourselves up. We don’t know the identities of any of those other aircraft except our own.”

“What other aircraft, sir?” Phoenix asked.

“The Hawkeye tracked a fast-moving aircraft in the area just before the Navy rescue helicopter went down,” Carlyle said. “No idea what it was, where it came from, or where it went.”

“It sounds like the Russians attacked the rescue helicopter, then sent one of its helicopters to pick up the survivors,” Phoenix said. “That’s madness! That’s an act of murder and piracy!”

“We don’t know shit, Ken,” the president said. “All this happened within the last thirty to sixty minutes half a world away. The story will change a dozen times in the next sixty minutes.”

“Sir, we’ve got to confront the Russians with what we know and what we suspect,” the vice president said. “Lives are at stake. Those bomber crewmen and the Navy diver could be in the hands of the Russians.”

“It’s being handled, Ken,” President Gardner said, longing to get back upstairs to the victory party. He looked at his vice president, thought for a moment, then: “Maybe you’re right, Ken,” he said, nodding. “I’ll meet with the entire national security team in the morning, get the latest updates, then rattle Truznyev’s cage. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Phoenix nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll make a few calls to the Reagan commander and get up to speed. Sorry I wasn’t here for the briefing.”

“That’s okay,” the president said. “But if I’m going to chair this status meeting tomorrow, I’m going to need you to fill in for me.”

“Fill in, sir?”

“I have three campaign stops scheduled in Chicago and Milwaukee for tomorrow,” the president said. “I’ll stay in Washington, get the update, and brief the Press Corps myself on what happened and what we know. I’ll have you fill in for me in Wisconsin, then we’ll blow the doors off the place by appearing together in Chicago.” He nodded to his chief of staff. “Set it up, will you, Walter? I’m heading back upstairs. Good night, all. Thank you.”

The president, chief of staff, and national security adviser departed the Oval Office, leaving Ken Phoenix by himself. He stood motionless for several long moments; then, as if accepting an unwelcome fate he had seen coming for quite some time, he went over to the president’s desk and picked up the phone. “This is the vice president,” he spoke. “Get me President Truznyev of Russia immediately.”

The president and chief of staff strode through the outer office of the West Wing, heading for the stairs to the residence. As they passed the chief secretary’s desk, she put her phone on hold and called out, “Excuse me, Mr. Kordus?”

He stopped and looked quizzically at her. President Gardner called out over his shoulder, “I’ll meet you upstairs, Walter,” and continued on with a wave of his hand.

Kordus went back to the receptionist. “What?” he asked impatiently.

“Sir, the vice president is still in the Oval Office,” she said, “and he just asked to speak with the president of Russia!”

Kordus’s face went blank, and then his mouth dropped open in shock. “Call the president, now, and cancel Phoenix ’s request to talk with Truznyev!” he shouted, running back to the Oval Office.

President Gardner strode into the Oval Office a few minutes later, finding the vice president and Chief of Staff Walter Kordus standing next to the president’s desk. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked. “What are you still doing here, Ken?”

“The vice president put in a call to President Truznyev from the Oval Office, sir,” Kordus said. “I canceled it.”

“What?” Gardner thundered. “You asked to speak with the president of Russia, without my permission, from my office? Are you insane, Ken? That’s a criminal offense! You can be impeached for that! What-”

The phone rang, and Kordus picked it up. “Yes…? Oh, Christ…” He put the call on hold and turned to Gardner. “President Truznyev. Wants to know why the vice president called him and then canceled the call.”

“Tell him it was a mistake.”

“Insists on talking to you, sir.”

Gardner ’s furious eyes impaled Phoenix with burning lances of anger, and he snatched the phone out of Kordus’s hand and hit the “CALL” button. “President Truznyev? President Gardner here…it was a mistake, Mr. President, a miscommunication…no, it was not some sort of tactic…yes, I mean to find out right now.” He put the call on hold again. “Well, Phoenix? What the hell were you going to talk with Truznyev about?”

“I was going to tell him that we know about the netrusion activity from Socotra Island that damaged a Kingfisher satellite,” the vice president said.

“Dammit, Phoenix, I told you I was going to confront him with that tomorrow…!”