“That may be some small comfort to the nation as a whole, but it is not any comfort to me at all,” Robert Chamberlain said angrily. “I will accept for now that this is not a prelude to a traditional military attack, but my recommendation to the President will clearly state that this is most assuredly an attack on the nation, and that we should respond accordingly.”
The “hotline” phone rang just then, and Chamberlain answered it on the first ring. “Chamberlain…yes, go ahead, Signal…I’m here, Mr. President. I’ve assembled representatives of the National Security Council here in the Situation Room.”
“Thank you, Robert,” the President of the United States, Samuel Conrad, began on the secure line. “I’ve got the secretaries of State, Defense, and Transportation with me, along with the chairman of the joint chiefs, the Speaker of the House, and the majority and minority leaders of the Senate. The Vice President, Attorney General, and some of the other Cabinet members are also patched in.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said. “We’ve just been briefed by General Hanratty of Northern Command, and he tells us that there appear to be no indications of any nation mobilizing its armed forces. It looks like we were the victim of another terrorist action—but this time with more dire implications.”
“Christ…” the President breathed.
“I strongly recommend you return to Washington immediately, sir,” Chamberlain said forcefully, glancing at the drawn, shocked faces of the men and women around him in the Situation Room. “There’s no imminent danger, and you have already made it clear to the world that you and the government are safe. You need to get back to the White House and take charge, in person, right now.”
“Are you sure it’s safe, Robert?”
“Safety is not the issue, sir—leadership is,” Chamberlain replied. “You need to get back here so the American people can see you not just alive and safe, but in charge and leading the defense. Now I advise you to tell the chief of staff to turn the plane around and get back to the White House as soon as possible. I’ll advise the press you’ll be on the ground at Andrews and back at the White House shortly.”
“I…all right, Robert,” the President said hesitantly. “I plan to address the American people immediately as soon as I arrive back at the White House, Robert,” he went on a moment later, “and I want a full situation briefing and intel dump as soon as I get off the plane.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Is there any information on who did this? Anyone claim responsibility yet?”
“No, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said. “We hope to have more by the time you return. We’ll transmit a complete casualty and damage report, defense status report, and up-to-the-moment world situation report to the chief of staff so he can have Communications draft an address for you.”
There was silence for a few moments; then: “I want to hunt them down and slaughter them, Robert,” he said angrily. “I want every resource of the United States of America mobilized to find those responsible and eliminate them. I’m not interested in bringing them to justice. I want them gone.”
“Everything will be done that can be done, sir…”
“That’s not good enough, Robert,” the President said acidly. “I’m tired of America being the target, the hunted—I want America to be the hunter.” He paused, then went on, his shaking voice evident even over the secure telephone connection: “Robert, I want to declare war on terrorism. And I don’t mean a ‘war’ like our ‘war on drugs’ or our current ‘war on terrorism’…” He paused again, and Chamberlain could hear a slow uptake of breath before he said, “I propose to go before Congress and ask for a declaration of war against terrorism.”
“A…say again, sir?” Chamberlain responded in shock and confusion. “Mr. President, I…I don’t know…”
“Robert, I intend to ask Congress for a declaration of war against terrorism,” the President said firmly. “The attack on Kingman City may or may not be state-sponsored; it may be radical fundamentalist Islam or some other fanatical group—it doesn’t matter. I want the full and unfettered resources of the nation to find who did this unspeakable act, hunt them down like the sick cowardly dogs they are, and destroy them. I want a congressional declaration of war. I don’t care how we get it, I just want it done.”
There was silence on the line for several long moments; then: “Mr. President, I am behind you all the way on that idea,” Robert Chamberlain said. “We should discuss this as soon as you land. It will take an enormous amount of courage and tenacity to pull it off; undoubtedly your political opponents will call it a grandstanding gesture that will throw the world into chaos. But I believe the American people will be behind you one hundred and ten percent.”
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for Congress or the Supreme Court to wring their hands and debate this,” the President retorted. “Robert, I’m tasking you with implementing this idea. Get together with Justice, Defense, and the congressional leadership and draft me a proposal that I can present to a joint session of Congress within thirty days. I want a plan of action set into motion immediately. Military, Central Intelligence, FBI, Homeland Security, every branch of the government—everyone’s going to work together on this to find the bastards who attacked us.”
Chamberlain swallowed, nervously looking around the Situation Room at the faces looking worriedly at him. “Yes, Mr. President. I’ll get right on it,” he said finally. “I’ll have some suggestions for you as soon as you return.”
“Thank you, Robert,” the President said. “You’re my go-to guy, Robert. I’m relying on you to push this, hard. The entire world watched me run in fear from my own capital, and I’m not going to let that happen ever again on my watch. I want to take the fight to the enemy. Whatever it takes, whatever we’ve got—I want the terrorists who did this to suffer. I’m going to stake my entire political career on this. I need a strong hand on the wheel. I’m counting on you, Robert.”
“I understand, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said. “I’ll see you when you get back. Thank you, Mr. President.” The connection went dead, and Chamberlain returned the phone to its cradle with a stunned expression on his face.
“What’s going on, Robert?” Donna Calhoun asked.
“The President will be back in Washington within the hour,” he said, quickly composing himself. “He wants to address the nation as soon as he returns. I want a complete report on Kingman City, our defense status, and the world situation in twenty minutes. I’ll transmit it to Air Force One so the President’s communications staff can draft a speech.” He paused, his mind racing furiously; then he added: “He wants it to be a tough, no-nonsense, decisive speech. He wants blood. He doesn’t want to reassure the nation, or offer his condolences—he wants action, and he wants heads to roll.” He paused again, thinking hard, until he realized that the National Security Council staff members present were looking rather concerned. “On my desk in twenty minutes.”
“Is there something else, Robert…?”
At that instant the phone rang again, and Chamberlain snatched it up as if it had electrocuted him. He listened for a moment; then his eyes widened in surprise, and he motioned excitedly to a staffer. “Turn on the damned news,” he shouted, “now!”