2030_ The Real Story of What Happens to America - Albert Brooks [153]
As always, it started out about business and before it was over Bernstein was telling her what his current demons were and all the other things that one should tell only a psychologist or at least one’s very best friend. These conversations were becoming so necessary for the President, he didn’t know what he would do without them.
When they were finished, Susanna got up and wished him a good night. They still had never kissed, only hugging a few times in a friendly way, but she kept wondering if that was going to change. She wouldn’t refuse, but she knew that once it happened, it would alter the dynamic, and she didn’t really want that. But that night at least there was no kiss. Just another friendly hug and she was back in her room.
Susanna was doing work at her seat on the plane when she noticed a conversation of some urgency near the front. Before she could find out what was happening, an assistant to the chief of staff came to her and told her that the President was being woken up, that there was an emergency.
“What’s going on?”
“There has been a hijacking of a retirement cruise ship.”
“Oh my God! Where?”
“Miami.”
“In the United States? Oh my God!” Susanna could see two people standing at the open door of the President’s sleeping quarters. Within moments he was dressed and walking down the aisle, reading something, drinking a cup of coffee, and talking into a device. He stopped at her seat and asked her to come with him. They went upstairs on the aircraft to the heart of the communications center. Susanna had to wonder if this was something that a normal secretary of the Treasury would be asked to do. But it was her. And he wanted her there.
The room upstairs was, as it had been for decades, one of the most sophisticated control centers in the world. It was not large, about two hundred square feet. There were several people sitting at their stations, monitoring secure and regular communications.
The President, Susanna, and the assistant chief of staff sat on a couch in one corner, looking at the screens. On one screen was John Van Dyke. On another was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Mike McGuiness. On a third was Admiral Boyle, secretary of the Navy.
“He wants to talk to you,” Van Dyke said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” the President asked.
“It’s too easy. You can’t just hijack a boat and get to speak with the president.”
“For God’s sake, John, it’s not a boat. It’s a ship with almost three thousand people on it. Isn’t that good enough to talk to me?”
McGuiness spoke up. “Mr. President, I think John is right. If we give in now to this demand, it will appear weak.”
“So what do we do?” the President asked.
“I think we stall as long as we can and see if we can overtake them.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Sir, we have the best snipers in the country only about an hour away now. They will soon be on those tugs surrounding the ship, and if there is any way humanly possible of getting them, these guys can do it.”
“What about the explosives?” the President asked.
“That’s what they say, but all satellite data at this time show none of that. If they lined the ship with what they’re claiming, I think we would know.”
“Are you sure?”
The general paused. “I can say ninety percent.”
“Not good enough,” the President said. “If you’re wrong and they kill all those people, it won’t be worth keeping me from having a conversation.”
Van Dyke had an idea. “Sir, you’re landing in an hour. Let’s see if we can stall until you get to the White House.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Mr. President,” McGuiness said. “In the meantime, the SEALs can get sophisticated equipment under the ship that can detect explosives with