Read Brown, Dale - Independent 04 Online

Authors: Storming Heaven (v1.1)

Brown, Dale - Independent 04 (60 page)

 
          
“Right,”
the First Lady said. “And we need to make our peace with the producers of the
TV show that had their crew shot down by Hardcastle’s goons—we might have to
feed them an exclusive interview from the White House or from Air Force One
while we’re on the road.”

 
          
“Let’s
do it on Air Force One—that always impresses the hell out of the media.”

 
          
“We’ll
decide that later,” the First Lady said dismissively. “Again, it’s important to
emphasize that Hardcastle’s mismanagement caused the accident—the Air Force
crews were following orders. The pressure Hardcastle was creating with these
’round-the-clock patrols and missiles everywhere caused this terrible accident.
Remember that.” “Gotcha,” the President said. “I’m gonna go take a nap for an
hour while the staff gets their act together.”

 
          
“Let’s
get the photos done first,” the First Lady reminded him.

 
          
“Photos?”

 
          
“Of
you and me, up in the middle of the night, working after being notified of this
terrible tragedy,” the First Lady said, reaching for the phone. “We’ve got to
show the people we’re on the job, and need to show them ratty sweatshirts and
unshaven faces. Remember: You’re concerned over the accident. Look concerned.
You share their pain.” The President sighed but nodded okay. Sometimes even he
had to admit his wife was a bit much.

 

 
          
U.S.
Department of Justice

           
Office
of the Deputy Attorney General

           
Washington
,
D.C.

           
Four
Hours Later

 

 

 
          
“I’m
glad this is over,” Deputy Attorney General Elizabeth Lowe said during the
day’s first meeting of the President’s Executive Committee on Terrorism. “If
this got any bloodier .. . well, I’m just glad it’s over.” Left unsaid were the
. words “It might
really
hurt the
President’s reelection chances,” but everyone present in the Oval Office knew
what Lowe meant to say. To Ian Hardcastle, Lowe said, “Admiral, the President
is meeting with the producers of that trash TV show ‘Whispers.’ What’s the
final opinion as to the cause of the accident—and what happened to the pilot
who fired the missile?”

 
          
“Captain
Humphrey killed himself, plain and simple,” Lieutenant Colonel A1 Vincenti said
to the Deputy Attorney General. “He was overcome with grief because of the accidental
shoot-down, and he flew out over the ocean and crashed his plane where he
wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

 
          
The
room got very quiet at that point—but not for very long. “Jesus, what a damned
mess,” someone muttered. Vincenti angrily searched for whoever it was that
spoke, but all he saw were averted eyes. Finally one of the Assistant
Secretaries of Defense that Vincenti did not recognize said, “Did he have a
family? A wife and kids?”

 
          
“Tom
Humphrey was a newlywed,” Vincenti replied. ‘They’re—she’s—expecting her
first.”

 
          
“How
the hell could this happen, Admiral Hardcastle?” Ralph Mersky, the Secretary of
Transportation, asked. “This was a tragic but avoidable accident, in my
opinion. The Air Force has very specific procedures to follow during an
intercept—and they weren’t followed.”

 
          
“It
was an accidental missile launch. Secretary Mersky,” Admiral Ian Hardcastle
responded. “He made a mistake, that’s all. They were chasing a hostile
aircraft.”

 
          
“It
was a TV
news
plane, for God’s sake!
They
identified
themselves.”

 
          
“It
was violating the law and flying like a hostile aircraft, with its transponder
and lights off,” Hardcastle said. “The fighter leader got disorientated.”

 
          
“Screwed
the pooch, you mean.”

 
          
“I
mean, got
disorientated,
” Hardcastle
snapped. “You should know about spatial disorientation, Mr. Mersky— you”re a
licensed pilot. Mundy lost control of his plane due to the sudden flash of
light from the TV crew on board the Learjet and because of spatial
disorientation, and Humphrey reacted as if his leader had just gotten hit by
hostile fire. It was a mistake.”

 
          
“A
damned costly mistake,” Lowe interjected. “Admiral, we’ve received word that
Congress is going to begin an investigation of the shoot-down incident, and
you’ve been subpoenaed to appear.” She nodded to one of her aides, who handed a
document to Hardcastle. He did not open it, but handed it to Sheehan—he was so
furious, he thought he would tear it up into tiny pieces if he even touched it.
“Until the matter has been resolved, your duties and responsibilities with the
Executive Committee on Terrorism have been suspended, effective immediately.”

 
          
“What?”
Hardcastle retorted. “You’ve
suspended me? Why?”      .          
,

 
          
“We’ve
been heavily criticized for your approach to solving this problem, Admiral,”
Lowe said. “Your tactics regarding the air defense setup simply havn’t
worked—the accident tonight near
Atlantic City
was a good example. In addition, your actions
concerning the raid on that mansion in
New Jersey
, although probably successful, were beyond
your authority.”

 
          
“Secretary
Lowe, I did what I had to do.”

 
          
“As
we all knew you would, Admiral,” Lowe said, averting her eyes so Hardcastle
could not see the contempt in them.
Yes,
we all knew you’d come in with guns blazing and the Bill of Rights be damned,
the Deputy Attorney General thought.
I
just wished we made a stronger connection between you and Martindale
. There
was still time to build that, Lowe reminded herself. “I’m sorry, Admiral. The
Congressional investigation will commence shortly; we can assist you in
obtaining legal counsel.” Lowe turned to Vincenti and said, “Colonel Vincenti,
you’re under similar subpoena, as an expert witness, so like Admiral
Hardcastle, you’re prevented from talking with the media'about the incident.

 
          
“The
President has directed that the Air Force will make a statement about the
accidental shoot-down,” Lowe told the rest of her advisers seated around her,
“expressing our condolences to all the families of that TV crew who suffered a
loss.” It was obvious that the President wanted to distance himself from that
situation as well, Lowe thought—yes, the crew on that Lear screwed up, but if
there was some political hay to be made out of his sorrow for the deaths
suffered, the President wanted to do it. “General Skye . .. ?”

 
          
“First
of all, ma’am, if I may, we should offer condolences to the family of Captain
Humphrey, the F-16 pilot lost after the accident,” General Charles Skye
replied. Skye was the fifty-eight-year-old “triple-hat” commander of U.S. Space
Command, U.S. Aerospace Defense Command, and the North American Air Defense
Command, charged with the air defense of the continental
United States
,
North America
,
and all
U.S.
assets in space. Tall, distinguished, and completely no-nonsense, Skye
showed his exasperation at these endless meetings for the entire world to see.
“It was obvious that the remorse and guilt he felt caused him to crash his
aircraft into the sea.”

 
          
“General
. . .”

 
          
“If
you only offer condolences to the TV crew that violated the law and caused the
accident to occur in the first place, ma’am, you and the President will lose a
lot of faith from your military supporters,” Skye said. “Captain Humphrey, his
wife and kid, and his unit deserve better.”

 
          
“I
didn’t forget, General,” Lowe shot back angrily. “We weren’t
only
going to offer our condolences just
to the TV crew.
Thank you
for
reminding me.”

 
          
But
there was not much chance of General Skye’s taking the hint. “I’ll go to
Atlantic City
and meet with the unit commander myself.”

 
          
“I’d
like to accompany you, General,” Hardcastle said immediately.

 
          
“Same
here, General,” Vincenti echoed.

 
          
“Permission
granted, gents,” Skye said, “if the Justice Department or the Senate or whoever
wants a piece of your ass lets you come out and pay your respects. Thank you.
We’ll arrange to talk with the TV people later.”

 
          
“I’m
so glad we got that settled,” Lowe said, rolling her eyes. “Now, about
dismantling the air defense stuff...”
“What?”
Hardcastle retorted. “I think that’s a bit premature, Miss Lowe.”

 
          
“That’s
a real stupid idea,” Skye said, not bothering to use polite words in this
meeting. “Real big mistake. The fighters are the first line of defense—you’ve
gotta have eyes up there to see who’s coming down on you.”

 
          
“General,
perhaps you didn’t understand—we
got
Henri Cazaux,” FBI Director Lani Wilkes said. “The emergency is over.”

 
          
“Tell
that to
Lake
, Fell, and that Gulfstream crew up in
Newburgh
,” Hardcastle said. “It was a summary
execution all the way—maybe it wasn’t Cazaux, but it was probably one of his
men.”

 
          
“Cazaux’s
operation has been blown away, Admiral,” Wilkes said. “We got his mansion,
several of his soldiers, his bimbo, and his banker. We’ve got a line on several
million dollars belonging to Cazaux’s organization—he’s frozen, bankrupt.”

 
          
“We
can’t account for several aircraft that
Lake
purchased,” Hardcastle said, “and several
of the weapons stolen from Naval Air Station Fallon that have been linked to
Cazaux. He’s still got to be considered dangerous.”

 
          
“Cazaux
or not, Judge Wilkes, if the Commander in Chief orders me to take the air
defense stuff down, I’ll do it,” Skye said. “I haven’t received such an order,
so they stay. It’s that simple.”

 
          
“I’m
concerned that there will be more accidents if we have all these missiles and
fighters in the air, especially with air traffic controls lifted,”
Transportation Secretary Mersky said. “Besides, the fighters didn’t help over
Atlantic City
or over
Fort Worth
, did
they?”                                                     
.

 
          
“You
don’t turn these boys loose to do their jobs, Mr. Mersky, and the job won’t get
done,” Skye said. “You set up an air cordon and tell civilians they can operate
inside the cordon, they better understand that if they play games and dick
around, they’ll get their asses shot off, pure and simple.”

 
          
“General,
the President is afraid to publicly announce that the emergency is over,
because he feels, and I concur, that such an announcement will only attract the
copycat bombers or Cazaux’s lieutenants out there to blow up a terminal or
airliner,” Deputy Attorney General Lowe said. “Instead, we want to recommend to
the President to quickly but quietly take down the air defense network and
return the air traffic system in this country back to normal. Airport security
will still be at maximum levels, and we want to implement an air marshal
program again, but we want to do away with the special air cordons, the
military weapons in place around the airports under Class B airspace, and all
military control of access to the air traffic control system.”

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