"Don't you mean, Natalie, ' they just don't know'?"
"Sir?"
"Our enormous and enormously expensive intelligence community," the president said. " We, you and me, Natalie, are supposed to get the intelligence. They are supposed to come up with it, and then give it to you and me. Right?"
"Yes, Mr. President, that's the way it's supposed to work."
"And they haven't been doing that very well, lately, have they?"
"Mr. President:"
"They haven't and we both know it," the president said.
She didn't reply.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to unload on you," the president said.
"I didn't think you did, Mr. President. I understand your frustration. I'm often frustrated myself."
"I wish I could think of some way to shake them up," the president said. "Any ideas?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. President."
"Matt Hall and his wife are coming to supper. You interested?"
"I'm at your call, Mr. President, but I really have made plans."
"Well, I'll see what Matt has to say, and then you can tell me tomorrow morning what you think."
"What's the buzzword? Buzz-phrase? 'Thinking out of the box'?"
"Dr. Cohen, you are absolutely right. As soon as Matt walks in, I'm going to hand him a stiff drink and tell him to start thinking out of the box."
She chuckled.
"See you in the morning, Natalie. Have a nice night."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
"And when you come in in the morning, I hope you'll be able to tell me we have found this missing airplane."
"I hope so, too, Mr. President."
"I just realized, Natalie, that I'm not kidding. Maybe Matt will have some ideas."
"I'm sure he will, Mr. President."
"Good night, Natalie."
"Good night, Mr. President."
She broke the connection with her finger but did not replace the handset. She pushed a button on the base that automatically connected her to another instrument on the secure network.
"Hall," a male voice said a moment later.
"A heads-up, Matt. I know where you're going tonight. He wants to discuss with you ways to shake up what he described as our 'enormous and enormously expensive intelligence community.' "
"Oh, hell. Thank you, Natalie, I owe you a big one."
"Yeah," she agreed.
"What lit his fire this time? Do you know?"
"Somebody stole an airplane in Angola. That caught his eye."
"Mine, too. Thanks again, Natalie."
"Have fun, Matt," she said with a laugh and hung up.
Chapter III
[ONE]
The Oval Office
The White House
Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, D.C.
0845 24 May 2005
"Natalie, Matt," the president of the United States said, "would you stay a minute, please?"
Dr. Natalie Cohen, the national security advisor, and the Hon. Matt Hall, secretary of homeland security, who were sitting on the same couch, and both of whom had started to get up, relaxed against the cushions. Hall then leaned forward and picked up his unfinished cup of coffee from the coffee table.
The president waited until the others in the room had filed out and then motioned to the Secret Service agent at the door to close it.
Cohen and Hall looked at the president, who seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Finally, he smiled and spoke.
"Maybe I missed something just now," the president said. "But I didn't hear from anyone that anyone knows any more about that airliner that went missing in Angola than anyone did yesterday."
Cohen and Hall exchanged glances but neither said anything.
"And I think-I may be wrong; the intelligence community is so enormous that sometimes I just can't remember every agency who's part of it-that we had in here just now just about everybody who should know what's going on with that airplane. Maybe not all of them. Maybe just a few of them, but certainly at least one of them. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Mr. President," Dr. Cohen said, "I checked with the CIA and the Air Force again this morning. They are agreed that there is virtually no possibility of that airplane being able to fly here-or, for that matter, to Europe-without being detected."
"That's reassuring, Natalie. And is that the reason, would you say, that nobody mentioned this missing airplane? Or, maybe-I realize this may sound as if I'm a little cynical-was it because they hoped I wouldn't notice that they have no idea what the hell's going on with that airplane?"
"Mr. President," Hall spoke up, "I'm sure that they-and that means the entire intelligence community, sir-are working on it."
"Come on, Matt," the president said. "We know that." He paused and then looked at Dr. Cohen.
"Remember what we talked about last night, Natalie? I told you when Matt came for supper, I was going to ask him to think out of the box-I have no idea what that really means-about this?"
"Yes, I do, Mr. President," she said and looked at Hall.
"That I wished I could think about some way to shake up the intelligence community?" the president went on.
"Yes, sir," she said and paused.
Dr. Cohen was fully aware that the man sitting at the desk across the room was the most powerful man in the world. And that she worked for him. And that meant she was supposed to do what he said, not argue with him, unless she was absolutely convinced he was dead wrong, when she saw it as her duty to argue with him.
And she wasn't absolutely sure he was right about this. Or absolutely sure he was wrong.
"Are you sure you want to shake them up, sir?" she asked. "Even more than the 9/11 commission report did?"
"If they're not doing their job," the president said, "they deserve to be shaken up."
That, Dr. Cohen thought, is a statement of policy. And I don't think it's open for discussion.
"And doesn't this missing 727 business give us the chance to find out whether they're doing their job or not?" the president asked. "Something real-world and real-time above and beyond what the 9/11 commission report called for?" He paused. "This could put us ahead of the curve."
"Very possibly it does, sir," she said.
"It looks to me, and Matt, like an ideal situation to run an 'internal review,' " the president went on, "without it interfering with anything important. And without anybody having to know about it unless we catch somebody with their pants down." He heard what he said. "Sorry, Natalie. That slipped out. But wouldn't you agree with Matt?"
So Matt, too, has decided arguing with him about this would be futile?
"What's your idea, Matt?" she asked.
"As I understand what the president wants," Hall said, "it's for someone-one man-to check everybody's intel files and compare them against both what he can find out, and what the others have found out, and when."
"Isn't that a lot to throw at one man?" she asked.
"That's a lot of work for one man, but I think that if we used even as few as three or four people on this, the question of who's in charge would come up; they'd probably be stumbling over each other trying to look good; and the more people involved, the greater the risk that somebody would suspect something like this was going on."
"That's the idea, Natalie," the president said. "What do you think?"
I think Matt has resigned himself to there being – what did he say? "An internal review"?- and he wants to keep it small, low-key, and, if at all possible, a secret.
"Have you got the man to do it?" she asked.
"I asked him last night to think about that," the president said.
"I think I have the man, sir," Hall said.