Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [101]
“It makes sense to me, Clayton. No two people in our governments respect each other more or can act in better collaboration than Peng and Jack. Yes, I think this would be a very good idea.” Jack winked at Clayton as if to say, Let’s get it on.
It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon when they said their good-byes at the helipad. It was a solemn departure, colored by the knowledge that they all had their work cut out for them.
Clayton and Jack took the long way back to the lodge to pack up and head home. The challenges they faced were daunting, and the clock was ticking. Worse, formidable forces were now building—domestically and internationally—that would do anything to counter their work.
37
The White House
1 October 2017
Sunday-morning traffic in Washington was light as Clayton McCarty’s limo headed toward the White House for his ten o’clock appointment with the president. His telephone conversation with Burkmeister the previous night had been brief, and he struggled now with how he could best covey the events of the extraordinary meeting at Camp David. He was all but overwhelmed by the work to be done in such a compressed timeframe, but the president was sure to provide a welcome reality check.
Clayton winced as he entered the Oval Office, startled by the president’s haggard appearance. It must have been a rough weekend, Clayton surmised as he greeted Burkmeister with all the cheer he could muster.
“Good morning, Mr. President. How are you feeling today, sir?”
“I guess as well as could be expected under the circumstances, Clayton,” Burkmeister said from his desk chair. Clayton stifled a sigh—normally the president would have risen to shake his hand, but he probably needed to save that energy. “Please, have a seat and tell me about your meeting at Camp David.”
No small talk today, Clayton thought. It was astonishing how rapidly the cancer was sapping the life and energy out of the president.
“It went better than we could have possibly hoped, Mr. President, and I have a lot of things to lay on you. But before I do, Lin Cheng sends his best wishes to you. He told me of his high regard for you and how appreciative he was of your balanced and judicious position on Chunxiao.”
“Glad to hear that. Between my conversations with Prime Minister Sato Itsuki on how we were mistreating the Japanese and another unpleasant conversation with Prime Minister Nachum demanding we give Israel things we’re not in a position to give, it’s nice to hear a kind word.”
“I’m anxious to hear about your weekend, Mr. President. Do you want me to go first?”
“Go ahead, Clayton, my information can wait.”
Clayton related the details of the meeting and handed Burkmeister the one-page summary Jack and Peng had prepared. The president read it carefully, pondering his concerns before responding.
“Overall, I like the collaborative approach you are suggesting with China. I agree that we’ll need coordinated critical mass to defeat the Saudis, but the devil is in the details.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that, Mr. President. Neither Lin Cheng nor I have illusions about the challenges this plan will present. In fact, we’re looking at it as more of a statement of principles than a formal plan. Lin Cheng was quite candid in acknowledging the battle he would have with his Politburo and opined that we would probably have similar challenges with Congress as well as vehement opposition to any form of détente from the more vocal extremists.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear he’s sensitive to our situation,” Burkmeister responded. “It seems like so many of our counterparts think all the president has to do is wave a wand and Congress will automatically jump. Huh—if they only knew! Do you think he can sell it to the Politburo?”
“He plays his cards close to the vest, Mr. President, but I doubt he would even consider bringing the plan to them if he didn’t think he had a reasonable shot at selling it. I pressed him, but