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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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An Explanation from the Author: and 1 - Crisis - 1

 2 - The Call - 2 -

3 - The Wind - 3 -

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