Rawhide Down_ The Near Assassination of Ronald Reagan - Del Quentin Wilber [84]
Allen joined Haig on stage and stood just off the secretary of state’s right shoulder. The national security advisor wore a stern look for the cameras, but he was alarmed about his colleague’s physical condition. Haig looked as if he might collapse. His knuckles were white and his knees shook. Sweat popped from his pale forehead and cheeks. He labored for breath.
Standing there, Allen raced through various scenarios and his potential actions. If Haig keeled over, should he hurry to the podium, grab the former general, hand him off to another aide, and then continue the briefing himself? Or should he drag Haig offstage and seek medical attention?
Hunching over the podium and looking down at the throng of journalists in the small press room, the secretary of state said, “I just wanted to touch upon a few matters associated with today’s tragedy.” Haig was trying to speak in a measured voice but was betrayed by the need to take gulps of air. “First, as you know, we are in close touch with the vice president who is returning to Washington. We have in the Situation Room all of the officials of the cabinet who should be here and ready at this time.
“We have informed our friends abroad of the situation, the president’s condition as we know it, stable, now undergoing surgery.” Several reporters immediately made a note—for the first time, an administration official had confirmed what the media already knew. “And there are absolutely no alert measures that are necessary at this time we’re contemplating.”
“The crisis management,” a reporter asked. “Is that going to be put into effect when Bush arrives?”
“The crisis management is in effect,” Haig said, his tone ominous.
“Who’s making the decisions for the government right now?” asked Bill Plante of CBS. “Who’s making the decisions?”
“Constitutionally, gentlemen, you have the president, the vice president, and the secretary of state in that order and should the president decide he wants to transfer the helm to the vice president, he will do so. As of now, I am in control here, in the White House, pending return of the vice president and in close touch with him. If something came up, I would check with him, of course.”
Allen was stunned. In the Situation Room, he had wondered whether Haig understood presidential succession, and now he knew the answer. How could the secretary of state be confused about this crucial point? Was he simply ignorant or had he gone completely around the bend?
Allen could easily imagine how quickly the media would seize on this latest evidence of Haig’s questionable judgment. As he stood stock-still a few feet from the secretary of state, Allen needed every bit of his willpower to prevent the frustration from showing.
* * *
AS HAIG STEPPED to the podium and began speaking to reporters, Caspar Weinberger watched him on the Situation Room’s television. The secretary of defense was baffled. “I wonder why they’re running an old tape of Al Haig’s,” he said.
“That’s not a tape,” someone replied.
“But I thought he was right there,” Weinberger said, looking at Haig’s empty seat.
A minute later, when Weinberger and the others watched Haig misrepresent the line of succession, the room erupted.
“That’s a mistake!” someone said.
“What’s this all about?” Don Regan asked. “Is he mad?”
“He’s wrong, he doesn’t have such authority,” Weinberger said.
Though irritated with Haig, Weinberger was preoccupied by a much more serious concern. The secretary of defense had just gotten off the phone with his top general, who reported that two Soviet submarines were patrolling unusually close to the United States. Already worried that the Soviets might try to take advantage of a perceived leadership vacuum in Washington, Weinberger found it deeply troubling that the submarines were now outside their usual patrol area in the Atlantic Ocean. According to the general, the nearest sub could now drop a missile with a nuclear warhead on Washington in just ten