Executive orders - Tom Clancy [115]
Winston wondered how one could be so adroitly cornered in a room with curved walls. You're learning the political stuff, Jack.
Andrea, you have a new boss, the President told his principal agent.
For her part, Special Agent Price decided that Callie Weston might be wrong after all.
THE NOTICE THAT there would be a presidential address tonight upset a carefully considered timetable, but only by a day. More of concern was the coordination of that event with another. Timing was everything in politics, as much as in any other field, and they'd spent a week working on this. It wasn't the usual illusion of experts moving with practiced skill. There had never been practice in this particular exercise. It was all guesses, but they'd all made guesses before, and mostly good ones, else Edward J. Kealty would never have risen as far as he had, but like compulsive gamblers, they never really trusted the table or the other players, and every decision carried with it a lot of ifs.
They even wondered about right and wrong on this one-not the right and wrong of a political decision, the considered calculation of who would be pleased and who offended by a sudden stand on the principle du jour, but whether or not the action they were contemplating was objectively correct-honest, moral!-and that was a rare moment for the seasoned political operatives. It helped that they'd been lied to, of course. They knew they'd been told lies. They knew he knew that they knew that he'd lied to them, but that was an understood part of the exercise. To have done otherwise would have violated the rules of the game. They had to be protected so long as they did not break faith with their principal, and being protected from adverse knowledge was part of that covenant.
So you never really resigned, Ed? his chief of staff asked. He wanted the lie to be clear, so that he could tell everyone that it was the Lord's truth, to the best of his knowledge.
I still have the letter, the former Senator and former Vice President, and that was the rub, replied, tapping his jacket pocket. Brett and I talked things over and we decided that the wording of the letter had to be just so, and what I had with me wasn't quite right. I was going to come back the next day with a new one, dated properly, of course, and it would have been handled quietly-but who would have thought ?
You could just, well, forget about it. This part of the dance had to be stepped out in accordance with the music.
I wish I could, Kealty said after a moment's sincere pause, followed by a concerned, passionate voice. This was good practice for him, too. But, dear God, the shape the country's in. Ryan's not a bad guy, known him for years. He doesn't know crap about running a government, though.
There's no law on this, Ed. None. No constitutional guidance at all, and even if there were, no Supreme Court to rule on it. This came from Kealty's chief legal adviser, formerly his senior legislative aide. It's strictly political. It won't look good, he had to say next. It won't look-
That's the point, the chief of staff noted. We're doing this for apolitical reasons, to serve the interests of the country. Ed knows he's committing political suicide. To be followed by instant and glorious resurrection, live on CNN.
Kealty stood and started walking around the room, gesturing as he spoke. Take politics out of this, damn it! The government's been destroyed! Who's going to put it back together? Ryan's a goddamned CIA spook. He knows nothing about government operations. We have a Supreme Court to appoint, policy to carry out. We have to get Congress put back together. The country needs leadership, and he doesn't have a clue on how to do that. I may be digging my own political grave, but somebody has to step up and protect our country.
Nobody