Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [85]
This mollified the prime minister temporarily, but all parties knew that if Saudi Arabia penetrated so much as one inch of Israeli airspace, it was game over. The line between peace and a nuclear conflagration in the Middle East had never been finer, and the next twenty-four hours would have the entire world on edge.
32
Camp David
29 September 2017
Jack McCarty was delighted to have a free hour to play tourist at one of the most secluded and exclusive areas on Earth—Camp David. He could almost imagine strolling its peaceful mountain pathways with the likes of Winston Churchill, Nikita Khrushchev, Menachem Begin, and dozens of others who had once walked this same trail.
As an amateur historian of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s presidency, he knew what Camp David had meant to FDR. Dubbed Shangri-la by Roosevelt and later renamed Camp David by President Dwight D. Eisenhower in honor of his grandson, David, it was designed to be a safe haven for presidents. Nestled in Catoctin Mountain Park in Frederick County, Maryland, at an elevation of 1,700 feet, it was ten degrees cooler than Washington and a soothing haven for FDR’s nagging sinus and health problems. While only a two-hour drive from the White House in FDR’s day, it was now a thirty-minute helicopter ride on Marine One. Its atmosphere of serenity and seclusion—as well as its outstanding security and state-of-the-art communications facilities—seemed tailor-made for the informal summit meeting about to take place.
Jack wished he had more time to explore the trails, but it was now five thirty and time to get down to business. Walking back, he spotted Clayton coming out of the Main Lodge with umbrella in hand.
“How are you doing, Jack? I see you found your way here—with the aid of a Marine helicopter,” Clayton said. “C’mon, let’s debrief on the trail. No sense wasting the chance to get outside.” They started down a gently winding path patrolled, no doubt, by stealthy Secret Service agents one had to strain to spot.
“You did a great job putting this together with Wang Peng and Lin Cheng,” Clayton said. “It’s still hard to believe it’s actually going to happen, but as I understand it they will be here around eight o’clock tonight.”
“That’s right, Clayton. They sent their own security agents up here earlier to scan for bugs and check out the communication hook-ups—as far as I know, they’re still here. I think I saw a couple of them on my walk. Peng was embarrassed they had to take these security precautions, but he joked that, like Ronald Reagan, they preferred to ‘trust but verify.'"
Clayton laughed. They knew they would expect nothing less if the situation was reversed.
“That Five Demands announcement out of Riyadh almost queered the whole deal,” Jack said. “Peng told me Lin Cheng was ready to scrap everything, including the United Nations visit, and head back to Beijing. And then, after thinking about it, he realized there couldn’t be a better place for him to be in the early stages of a world crisis than here—right next to the other superpower. They’ll be here, but Peng wanted us to know they might have to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Clayton nodded, and they proceeded at a brisk walk as a mild drizzle started to fall. Jack knew his brother’s silence to be one of deep thought; he himself spent a few minutes considering the many ways in which the summit might evolve.
“What’s the latest from the White House?” Jack asked, tired of prognosticating on the outcome of the coming meeting.
“It’s been unbelievable, Jack, and I’m not totally sure where to start. Prime Minister Yakov Nachum called yesterday from Israel, after Mustafa’s speech. I don’t know what Nachum is like under normal circumstances, but he was really rattled when he talked to us.” Clayton summarized the exchange as they took a side path down to a little creek.
“After that, we had a full Situation Room meeting and issued a short statement that I’m sure you’ve heard