Kicking the Can (27 page)

108

T
he audiovisual specialist initiated the video conference from a secure briefing room at the US Air Force Base in Qatar. The projection screen was blank, except for a blinking hourglass.

“The president will be connecting from the West Wing video conference room. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.”

President Cannon was first to appear. His white button-down shirt was open-collared. He brushed his hair back with his right hand and took a sip from his ceramic mug.

“Good morning, Drummond. Rather, good afternoon. It’s six thirty a.m. in DC.”

“Good morning, Mr. President.” Drummond replied. “It’s good to see your face.”

“You’ve had a busy month, Drummond.”

“And you, sir.”

“Let’s get right to it. Sarah’s alive, but she’s back in ICU. I can only imagine how hard it must be for you, not knowing. I’m sorry.”

Drummond felt his stomach compress, like he’d been punched in the gut. The agonizing ordeal wasn’t over.

“This is Treasury Secretary John Sebastian. He’s my chief economic advisor. Warren Battles is White House chief counselor. He’s here to advise you of your legal rights.”

“Good morning, Mr. Secretary, Mr. Battles. This is Sheryl Vogel, and Peter Lowsley. They’ve been with me on the island for the last three weeks drafting our white paper. We’ve spoken with the others. Natalya Baturina and Rakesh Gupta will be heading back to their homelands. Nobody will answer our questions regarding Jack Dain and Pan Jiang, our missing team members.”

“Before we get too far into this, we need to advise you of your rights,” Battles said. “Bennett has filed a lawsuit requesting an injunction to block disclosure of the proposals prepared by the teams participating in Donald’s Contest. Bennett claims he made an oral agreement with Donald and that he agreed to forward the contestant proposals to the super committee. Seems the super committee is to select the contest winner. Trouble is Donald proposed the same arrangement to President Cannon. They had planned to post the proposals to the White House website to allow the American people to select the winner.”

“How has Donald responded to Bennett’s assertion?” Drummond asked.

“He hasn’t. Unfortunately, Donald is dead. His plane crashed in the Pacific Ocean on a return trip from Hawaii.”

“How convenient,” Lowsley said.

“I’ve reviewed their position. If you disclose any information to us, you’ll be in violation of the contractual
agreement you signed. Civil penalties include loss of ten million dollars, any additional prize money, and exposure to attorneys’ costs and fees. You’d have to obtain your own representation. The US taxpayers won’t pay your legal defense costs. Think this over before you proceed. You’ve already sacrificed a lot. Let’s let the legal eagles sort this out.”

Drummond sat in silence. He had already made his decision. He was searching for the right words to convey his mental and physical status.

“Mr. President, we’ve been threatened, shot at, and bombed. Pan Jiang was murdered, and Jack Dain wounded, perhaps fatally. You said it, Mr. President, this is bigger than both of us…The future of our nation is at stake. Let’s roll the dice and finish this thing. If not, Jiang and Dain’s sacrifices will be meaningless. Bennett doesn’t have our country’s interests at heart.”

“Vogel?” Drummond asked.

“I come from a wealthy family. I can assemble a team of lawyers. Dad taught me how to fight. This is the most important work I’ll ever do. I concur. Let’s finish this.”

“Lowsley?”

“I’m in.”

Battles pressed the button on a digital recorder.

“There’s always a tape!” Battles said, and they laughed.

It took Drummond and Lowsley fifty-five minutes to explain the proposal. Vogel provided the particulars regarding the stock offering securitized by the net worth of US households. Several issues were voiced by Sebastian and Battles, but in the end, the thirty-two percent savings
appeared to be a hard number. Their preliminary assessment suggested there were no legal obstacles to the securities offering. Sebastian and President Cannon exchanged high fives.

“America’s innovation is our enduring quality. I have hope. Well done. You’ve made us proud to be Americans.”

Battles spoke. “The public wants what it can’t have—we exploit that fact. My thought, and you understand we are not advising you, is for you to post your proposal to the public domain. We cannot accept receipt of the proposal…We’d be bound legally to seal the files. Any ideas?”

Vogel and Drummond acknowledged they did have an idea.

“We need access to the Internet and a medium to encode the message.”

“I’ll speak with the base commander,” Battles said. “Anything else?”

“When can we come home?” Drummond asked.

“I’ll send Air Force One to pick you up,” President Cannon said. “You can be guests at the White House. Thank you for your service to the country.”

The video conference ended. Lowsley left to use the restroom. Vogel and Drummond sat in silence. They had been through a lot. One more push and it would be over.

“Drummond, I want to thank you for the way you acted,” Vogel said.

“When?”

“After the party…in the underwater suite.”

“Oh, that…”

“Yes that…You were honorable. The two instances in my life when I truly wanted to die were when my brother assaulted me—I was fifteen…he was drunk—and the day when I walked in on my husband having sex with another woman. It’s affected my ability to make rational judgments in certain situations.”

“How much was your husband’s take—from the divorce?” Drummond asked.

“One hundred thirty-two million.”

“Your judgment’s fine—a lifetime separated from you is worth a hell of a lot more than that.

“You’re an attractive woman…It’s just—”

“I know…You’re married. It was the right decision for us…at least for now. I’m grateful.” Vogel squeezed Drummond’s hand. “I’ll contact Valarie at
The Journal
. Now tell me about Sarah.”

109

S
kip Davis reached across the limo seat and grabbed Bennett’s neck with his muscular hand, ratcheting up the force he applied to Bennett’s larynx, a key pressure point. The back of Davis’s hand disappeared underneath a chin-fold of flab.

“If you call me an incompetent bastard again, I’ll wring your neck.”

Bennett wheezed and sputtered, trying to gain a breath of air, before Davis let up.

“What the hell happened? They were expecting us. Someone tipped them off. The channel to the boat dock was blocked by cable. It forced us to take the boat to the north shore of the island.”

Bennett used his arms to push up from the limo seat in an attempt to pull up his suit coat. It had drifted underneath his buttocks during the scuffle.

“We worked our way to the structure on the south end of the island. We were one hundred yards from the mansion when we took casualties. A fire fight erupted in the clearing north of the mansion.

“Did you hire another paramilitary group?” Davis accused.

“What are you saying?”

“There was another assault team on the island,” Davis said.

“No.”

“Somebody did. You told me Dain was unarmed,” Davis said. “He had an M4 rifle. Son of bitch hid scuba tanks all over the compound. Blasts killed two of my men.”

“I know Dain didn’t have a rifle in his possession when delivered to the island,” Bennett said.

“They had video surveillance, like Dain was reading our minds. It took us thirteen minutes to suppress the fire from the other team before we could enter the main house. We were successful using plastic explosives to destroy the work areas, and grenades gutted the upper floors. The mansion was deserted,” Davis said.

“Where were Dain and the others?”

“We pinned Dain down on the beach and took him out with an M32. Before we could evacuate the island, a pair of A-10s strafed the beach. I lost all five men. The mothers took out the boat with a sidewinder missile.”

Bennett could see Davis was agitated.

“GPG will spend millions in legal fees. And we’ll pay out millions more to the families. Effing mess!”

Bennett waited until Davis was out of the limo and the door was closed. He hit the power lock and cracked the window.

“Davis,” Bennett yelled. “You can kiss the other installment good-bye. You’re fired.”

110

Z
hou Peng, senior general of China’s Central Military Commission stood erect, eyes forward. He looked out of place in full uniform standing in direct sun. The temperature was eighty-one degrees. A favorite winter resort along China’s South Sea, Sanya, had been hastily selected as the meeting spot. China’s premier and finance minister were wrapping up an economic tour. Chengdu had been their last stop before arriving at Sanya.

Tong, Hongwei, and Sebastian were sitting under the gazebo, outside a three-bedroom villa, sipping iced tea. They were wearing silk short-sleeved shirts, linen slacks, and leather sandals. Spread on the rattan table, between the men, was the
Wall Street Journal
. Tong’s eyes were fixed on the ocean. The breeze had picked up in the last hour, causing ripples of water to splash over the edge of the infinity pool. Gathering clouds and a darkening cell meant an impending monsoon. Tong motioned to the general to take a seat.

“I felt an explanation was in order,” Peng said in a formal tone. Peng and Tong served as members of the National People’s Congress for two decades and were
once close friends. Perspiration was visible on the general’s face.

“We received a signal from Jiang’s GPS locator. The transmission was not expected, so we assumed it was an emergency. We detected a Predator drone in the area. We believe it was providing aerial surveillance. Our special forces reported a boat landing on the north shore seven minutes prior to their arrival—another paramilitary squadron. A copy of the communication transcript indicates our special forces came under heavy fire one hundred yards from the structure. The fire fight continued for fifteen minutes. Explosions occurred on all levels of the main residence. The US Air Force deployed a pair of A-10s. Two of our soldiers were killed in action. Two others were injured and surrendered. They managed to get the girl out alive before the building was consumed by fire. Our launch boat was detained at the marina. The crew is being held for questioning.”

Tong, Hongwei, and Sebastian listened. Peng’s details corroborated Drummond’s testimony.

“Tong, you’ve earned our trust. Americans owe the Chinese a debt of gratitude. Your brave soldiers saved the lives of our civilians,” Sebastian said.

Tong excused General Peng, who saluted and turned on his heels.

“We’ve read Drummond’s white paper,” Hongwei said. “What are the particulars of President Cannon’s tentative proposal?”

“We’re offering China an opportunity to redeem your US treasuries in exchange for convertible securities. These securities will allow you to convert the debt you
hold into common stock at a fixed price. The common stock will be issued as part of a new stock offering to capitalize the public-private partnerships necessary to reform the health care system of the United States. You can invest alongside our government and American taxpayers. We’ve also made provisions to offer the investment to individual Chinese citizens, if you authorize it.”

“If China invests in US health care system, you’ll create a formal program to transfer knowledge, resources, and technologies to China’s health care system?” Hongwei asked.

“Yes. In return, we are asking China to expand its markets to US trade. You must agree to uphold international laws pertaining to intellectual property rights and patents.”

Tong picked up a flyswatter, and brought it down onto the newspaper. The insect’s entrails smudged the black ink.

“This comprehensive trade agreement will address some of the most challenging issues facing our two nations,” Sebastian said.

“It’s time US and China put aside our differences. I will call President Cannon and personally convey China’s enthusiasm for this proposal.” Tong stood and shook Sebastian’s hand.

“Prepare the airplane. I want to leave before the monsoon grounds us,” Tong said.

111

I
n the tradition of a weekly radio address, President Cannon was sitting on the Truman Balcony streaming video of his Saturday morning communication to the nation.

“The founding fathers believed in a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. Today, Washington is dysfunctional. The country’s work is completed if and when the interests of legislators are served. We have an opportunity to correct the error of our ways. I’m told that one of the team’s in Donald’s Contest has submitted a cogent proposal promising thirty-two percent savings in health care entitlements and an option to raise investment capital to implement the program without issuing more public debt. This program will allow us to balance the federal budget and put Washington on a pathway of sustainable government.

“Yesterday afternoon, the White House was served by attorneys retained by House Speaker Bennett and the super committee. Bennett’s party has filed an injunction to prohibit disclosure of the contest results to the American people, an action contrary to the ideals memorialized in the Bill of Rights and constitutional amendments. I have complete confidence our courts will correctly apply the
law—but the judicial system takes time to work, and our time is short. The White House legal team is preparing a brief to petition the court to strike down the injunction. I’m asking you to voice support for our position to your legislators. The time is now for the voice of the American people to resonate across this great country.”