The phone rang beside Cesare. “Cesare here … Edward Drury? … Hold on.” Cesare put the phone on hold. “It’s Drury from CNN, Mr. President. He’s asking for White House comment about a so-called KGB spy incident …”
So much for keeping it out of the press, the President thought. “All right, the comment is that the story about a KGB agent is false, and the cause of the crash in Nevada is still under investigation.”
“I’d advise against it, Mr. President,” Cesare said. “How about ‘unsubstantiated,’ or ‘rumors only’? If we say the story is false, and someone digs up some hard evidence …”
“All right, all right.” A headache was already spreading from his sinuses. “The information about a Russian agent is an unsubstantiated rumor, and the cause of the B-52 crash under investigation by the Air Force has not yet been determined. Any speculation would be detrimental and injurious to the personnel involved and the best interests of the country. Got all that?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure Walters gets a copy.”
“Have Ted hold a press conference as soon as possible and get out a release. No one on the staff goes in front of the media, except Ted, until we get together on a statement, and Ted’s only statement will either be what we just said there or ‘No comment.’ Got that?”
“Yes, sir.” Cesare flipped through his notes. “Speaker Van Keller is scheduled to be on ABC this morning. He’s the only one in on our meeting yesterday who could be pinned down on it.”
“Better get that statement out to him as soon as possible,” the President said. “Have him call me or Ted so we can brief him.”
“This could be a problem, sir,” Cesare continued, scanning his notes. “The first fifteen minutes of the meeting with the Foreign Relations Committee was supposed to be a photo opportunity.”
The President shook his head in frustration. “Great. In that case we’ll keep it a photos-only session and cut it down to five minutes.”
“Senator Myers and the committee members might have some questions about the incident—”
“We’ll give them what we give the press — the crash is under investigation, we have no information on any KGB agents being involved.”
Cesare finished writing. “One more thing, sir — the Russians. That wire story said we weren’t going to do anything. Should we make a comment about that?”
“To hell with them.” The President massaged his temples, then added, “They can think what they want. If we come out with any comment directed at the Russians, we’d be admitting that they had something to do with the B-52 crash—”
The phone rang again. “Cesare here … Ted, what’s up? … what? … any details? … all right. You’re ten minutes away? All right; I’ll pass it on.”
“What now?”
“Ted just got off the phone with the Post. They’re now saying that they have a tape of the conversation between the B-52 and the XF-34 aircraft during their engagement. The radio conversation was on a channel called GUARD, an international emergency frequency used by planes, ships … They have the whole thing — including the pilot of the XF-34 saying that he’s a colonel in the KGB. He said the guy from the Post even said, ‘XF-34.’ That designation was top secret — until now.”
“Dammit all to hell, less than twenty-four hours after our meeting and the whole country, whole world, knows about it. All right, all right,” the President said. “Cancel the Cabinet meeting agenda, get the NSC and CIA and have everybody in the conference room no later than seven-thirty, briefed and ready to discuss this, but for Christ’s sake do it quietly — don’t make it look like we’re circling any wagons. This is a routine Cabinet meeting. Make sure we get tapes of any news broadcasts about this thing.”
“We should change the press statement,” Cesare said. “I suggest—”
“The change is easy. The word now is ‘No comment.’ That’s it, and it goes for Ed Drury and the networks and everybody. We’ve got to get a handle on this thing before it. gets completely away from us …”
Cesare got on the phone again and while he was waiting, the President turned to him and said, “Paul, I want General Elliott at the meeting, too. Has he left Washington?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Then we’ll set up a secure teleconference and … no, I want him here. He had some ideas about this DreamStar thing that I want to hear. Wherever he is, have him back here soonest.”
“Yes, sir.” Cesare dialed the office of the military communications liaison and issued the President’s orders, then turned back to President Taylor, who was standing near the treadmill, staring at the news item on the big screen.
“Any idea who leaked this, Paul?”
“Well, that news item mentions a military source.” He paused, then asked: “Do you think it could be Elliott? Is that why you’re bringing him back to Washington?”
“A guy that’s just been stripped of his command and being forced to retire can do some very strange things, but no, not Elliott. He’s by-the-book. I want him back in Washington to hear what he has to say about this DreamStar thing. It’s been his baby.”
“Are you considering a military response?”
“Maybe I won’t have any choice. If we can’t get control of this leak, we may have to do more than just protest to the Russians—”
The phone rang. Cesare picked it up. “Military communications, sir,” Cesare said. “General Elliott had made a stopover at the Air Force Aeronautical Laboratories in Dayton. He can be here for the staff meeting.”
“That’s very good of him. I can’t wait to talk to him.”
“This was a deliberate information leak on someone’s part,” President Taylor said. “I want someone’s butt, and I want it now.”
He paused, scanning the faces of his Cabinet and senior White House staff members. “I expect whoever did this will have the courage to come to me later and explain why he or she felt it was necessary to reveal classified information like this. I will not tolerate this in my staff. I’ll shit-can the lot of you, and senior staff, if I have to.”
He let his words linger on the wide cherry conference table for a few moments. No one appeared ready to confess or throw themselves on the sword. He also saw a few faces that allowed themselves to appear skeptical when he had mentioned dismissals. But he had no choice, the President thought — someone had to get fired over this. Someone had to take a fall if for no other reason than credibility, or deniability, as in Iran-scam.
“The official word on this incident is ‘No comment,’ “ the President said. “And 1 don’t mean any of that ‘Neither confirm nor deny’ stuff. I mean ‘No comment.’ You’re not authorized to discuss anything dealing with Dreamland, the B-52 crash, experimental aircraft, or any military or civilian personnel. Is that clear?” A few nodding heads. “If you have any difficulty with that order, tell me now. I won’t hold any questions against you, and I won’t think that anyone who has a question has to be the guilty party. Speak up.”
Silence.
“All right. If any problems come up, refer them to Ted Walters, Paul Cesare or myself. But I want a lid on this. And I want it on tight. We’ve got news about the Summer Olympics and the elections to take the media pressure off this incident, and that’s what I want to happen.”
The President turned to General Kane. “Update on that DreamStar aircraft, General?”
“Very little, Mr. President,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs told him. “Increase in message traffic on the Soviet satellite-net out of Sebaco Airbase near Managua. We haven’t been able to decode it yet, but our analysts believe this reinforces our estimation that DreamStar is at Sebaco.”