3 - The Wind - 3
Sunday Morning 0558 Hours
MANNIE ALWAYS FELT A LITTLE INTIMIDATED by Emory Prescott. Perhaps
it was his size, six feet four inches, or the fact that he always wore
his uniform, or the four shining stars catching the lights and reflecting
them into your eyes as he talked. Perhaps it was his demeanor, which
was no nonsense and military, or perhaps it was because he was black.
He could have doubled for James Earl Jones or Paul Robson.
As the General preceded Mannie into the Situation Room in the basement
of the West Wing several other members had already gathered, clustered
around the silver service tray that provide the room with coffee, soda and
freshly baked sweet rolls from the White House kitchen.
It was customary for the members of the National Security Council
to be promptly present in the room prior to the President's entrance.
This morning as they seated themselves at the long table only Secretary
of State James Adams and the Vice President were missing. Emory Prescott
swore under his breath and picked up the phone. The White House operator
answered immediately. "Jim Adams isn't in the SIT Room, were you
able to contact State to find out where he is?" He waited for the reply
and hung up the phone. "Damn, they can't find Adams, and where the
hell is Quince."
The seating arrangement was similar to the cabinet room. The
President sat in the middle of the table with George Halperin, Director
of the National Security Council at his right. At Halperin's right
was Secretary of Defense, Matthew Morrissey, then Emory Prescott.
Unlike the cabinet meetings, the Vice President sat at the President's
left side, and then came Chief of Staff Smathers and Harland Watkins, chief
of the Central Intelligence Agency. Across from the President sat James
Adams, Secretary of State. Mannie took his seat to the right of that vacant
chair. NSC staff, seated at computer terminals that circled the room,
occupied the other chairs. On the walls were maps, satellite photos
and other charts and graphs used to instruct the participants. Four
television sets were tuned to the networks and CNN and three other sets
were used for a closed circuit direct line to the CIA, the Pentagon and
the State Department.
At precisely 0559 the President entered the room, General Prescott
rose to attention, as did everyone in the room.
"Be seated, gentlemen, and ladies," the latter referring to the
two technicians seated along a far wall, "It's just too early for formalities.
Where are Adams and Quince?"
"Sir," Prescott began to reply as Donald Quince entered the room,
breathless and obviously distraught.
"Madelyn is missing, my wife is missing, we looked everywhere, and
even the Secret Service doesn't know where she is."
All eyes followed the Vice President as he sank into his chair. There
was an embarrassed silence in the room.
"Sir," Emory Prescott continued, "I tried to reach Secretary
Adams at his home early this morning but there was no answer. The
operators have called the State Department, but they don't know where he
is either."
The President turned to Donald Quince and placing a hand on his
arm said in a quiet voice, "She'll probably show up somewhere, did you
contact her folks, perhaps they know something. Have a cup of coffee,
you know the Secret Service is very good at what they do."
Directly across the table Mannie looked into Quince's face.
He saw fear in his eyes. The President's remarks were little comfort.
An uncontrollable sob shook his frame; Donald Quince had never experienced
the terror that was gnawing at his stomach. The President spoke.
"Well gentlemen, without Adams here it won't do us much good to
discuss China, Mike, who at State would be most knowledgeable?"
Michael Smathers, fingered the tab on the notebook in front of him
marked "State" and turned the page revealing the top level organization
chart. He stroked his mustache, "Peter Chang is the Under Secretary
for Far Eastern affairs. I believe he would be the one to contact."
"Fine, see if you can get him over here, we will postpone the briefing
until he arrives. By the way, has Riley from Interior been notified
concerning that earthquake in California?"
"Yes sir," Smathers replied, as he moved to the phone to summon
the White House operators. "He will be standing by at 0800."
John Barry continued, "Did anyone hear that noise this morning?
Sounded like a jet or a missile."
Harland Watkins replied, "Yes sir, it happened right around 0425
this morning. All of our computers were affected. There has
been some speculation that the Chinese had something to do with it.
It appeared to be a worldwide communications blackout, of sorts. All
of our reporting stations experienced a disruption of communications at
the same time. The invasion occurred at about the same time in eastern
Russia."
Watkins took a breath and was about to continue when the President
broke in. "But did any of you hear that noise?"
Another sob shook Donald Quince.
One of the NSC staff members handed George Halperin a note.
It read:
Washington DC police report an unusually high number of 911 calls
reporting missing children.
He read the note, folded it and placed it on the table in front
of him.
Mannie responded to the President's question, "Yes sir, I heard
the noise, it sounded like a tornado or a low flying Cruise missile."
Others at the table acknowledged that they too had heard an unusual
sound like a strong wind.
Chief of Staff, Smathers returned to his seat and reported that
Peter Chang was on his way and should arrive within thirty minutes.
Michael Smathers was perhaps the brightest man in the room, dapper
to a fault with a neatly trimmed mustache slightly streaked with gray that
he constantly smoothed, fingered and played with. He was also the
best-dressed man on the White House staff. His immaculately fitted
suits were in sharp contrast to Mannie who always looked a bit rumpled.
The President had chosen him as Chief of Staff at the beginning of his
second term. His formal training had included business and finance
and a doctorate in psychology. The President relied on him for advice,
more than as a traffic cop at the White House, the role that the previous
Chief had relished, much to the disdain of lesser staff members.
Smathers allowed everyone to do his job without interference, yet he intuitively
was a master at assessment and evaluation. There were no shirkers
or gold bricks in Smather's White House. He was fluent in six languages
and especially enjoyed Greek, Latin and Hebrew. Often when it came
time to name a program he would be called on to assign a code name that was
appropriate and meaningful. Today would be no different, for already
the subject of the noise or wind of the previous night had reminded him
of the Hebrew word for wind, Ruach. He wrote two words at the top
of the yellow legal pad
S I N O
W I N D
beneath them he wrote
O N I S
R U A C H
There was a knock on the door; it opened. It was Solomon Rathman,
the Secretary of the Treasury. "Excuse me, sir, Mike Kelly called
and told me about Mrs. Quince, I just wanted to let you know that we are
exploring every avenue. We want to get to the bottom of this matter."
Michael Kelly was the chief of the Secret Service, responsible for
the well being of the President and Vice President. As the Secret
Service is a department of the Treasury he had informed his superior of
the report.
"Thank you, Sol, come in and sit down." As was his custom,
the President began to outline the priority problems of that morning. "As
I see it." Another sob, from his left, interrupted him. He
placed his hand on Donald Quince's arm.
Mannie observed the look of disgust on John Barry's face and saw
the President's fingers dig into the forearm of the Vice President. Mannie
was uneasy about the absence of Jim Adams who seemed to have a calming influence
on all meetings. Adams choice of words was always proper and expletives
never passed his lips. When John Barry was not in the presence of
Adams his conversations were spiced with vulgarisms and profanities.
"As I see it," he repeated, "we have three shitcan areas that need
our attention this morning. Number one, the China problem, number
two, the earthquake in California, and number three, Mrs. Quince.
As each of these items needs immediate attention I suggest that we divide
the responsibilities and return here at 1100. As Chang will be here
shortly from State, Morrissey, Prescott and Halperin will meet with him in
my office. Sol you and Mannie can meet with Quince in his office and
find out where Madelyn is. With all the work that she has done on
disaster planning with FEMA she could be of great help to us when Riley gets
here from Interior." He began to stand, his customary method of closing
meetings.
"Sir," Mannie interrupted, "It seems to me we have some issues here
that require some immediate response to the press. How do you want
us to handle this?"
Michael Smathers interjected, "We also have some rather sensitive
security concerns that we don't want to allow to be leaked to the press."
"What did you have in mind?" The President questioned, turning
to his Chief of Staff.
"Well sir, if Madelyn is really missing it is important that we
determine immediately if this is some kind of terrorist or kidnapping
act." Another sob shook the Vice President. "The China
situation is explosive, but until we can assess the threat we don't want
to panic the population. I suggest that we limit our discussions
to this rather small group and use project names for identification in
any memos. I believe that the press should be excluded from any
knowledge concerning these two problems."
"What names shall we give these two projects?" The President
asked.
Smathers paused for effect. "Onis Project, O - N - I - S,
for the China problem and Ruach, R - U - A - C - H, for the other."
"All right, Mannie have your office issue the typical press release
concerning California, offering our support. Sol, you head up the
Ruach Project with Mannie and Donny. Mike you sit in with me Morrissey,
Halperin, Watkins, Prescott and Chang from State, and somebody please
find Adams." He stood, adjourning the meeting; as he left
the room John Barry took Mannie's arm and whispered in his ear,
"For God's sake Mannie, see if you can't get Donny under control."
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