Stuart tried to explain. “Any top-to-bottom review is going to involve the heavy hitters. I’m just one of the troops buried on some subcommittee doing the legwork.”
“Remember who you work for and you won’t have a problem. Forget where your first loyalty is and I’ll be the one who buries you. Do you understand everything I’ve said?” Stuart nodded. “Good,” Ramjet said. “One more thing: I’ll hang you out to dry if you ever make an end run around me like this again. Dismissed.”
Stuart decided that protesting his innocence was a waste of time, and he hurried out of the colonel’s office. Maybe Hurricane Andrea wasn’t so bad after all, he thought.
Peggy Redman waved a blue memo slip, stopping him before he could escape. “First meeting this afternoon,” she told him.
He skidded to a halt. “I was lucky to get out of there alive. He hates my guts, and I don’t know why.”
“He hates himself,” Peggy replied. “He doesn’t need a reason.” She sighed. “I’ve seen it before. It’s very sad.”
“Not when you’re the target,” Stuart groused. He read the memo and let out a groan. “The meeting’s at the NSC across the river. He’s not going to like this.” The NSC was the National Security Council, and across the river meant the other side of the Potomac and the Old Executive Office Building across the street from the White House. For Ramjet Priestly that was much too close to the president. Stuart had a distinct image of being sent up the river and not across it.
“I’ll tell him,” Peggy said.
He gave her his best grin. “Thanks. I owe you.”
Peggy made a note and watched him go. She picked up the phone and dialed a friend in the NSC. “Gloria, it’s Peggy. Lieutenant Colonel Mike Stuart will be at the meeting. Put in a good word for him, okay?” She listened for a moment. “You’ll like him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Stuart was the only uniform on the third floor of the Old Executive Office Building, and he felt like a fish out of water. But that was typical of the Turner administration with its deliberate muting of the armed services’ presence in the nation’s capital. Although the president, Madeline O’Keith Turner, preferred to keep the military in the background, she was not hostile to the Department of Defense and trusted her military advisers. It had been that way since the Okinawa crisis, when her own party had turned against her and only the generals had stood firmly behind their commander in chief. [1]
Stuart found the conference room and walked in. The table was arranged with name cards and handouts at each seat, and flowers, the trademark of the Turner administration, were in the center. It all made him think of a formal banquet. Stuart glanced at the civilian sitting next to him and then his name card. General something, he couldn’t quite read the last name. He was gray-headed, hunch-shouldered, and totally nondescript. “Colonel Stuart,” the general said, “we’re supposed to wear civvies on this side of the river.”
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t know. It won’t happen again.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Colonel Roger Priestly, the chief of ILSX.”
“I’ll speak to him.”
Stuart suppressed a groan. That was all he needed. He automatically stood with everyone else and at first couldn’t see who entered the room. He caught his breath when he saw Mazana Kamigami Hazelton, the national security adviser.
“Please be seated,” the national security adviser said. She remained standing while the committee shuffled into their seats. It was the first time Stuart had seen her in person. She was petite, very short — less than five feet — and beautiful. Her delicate features reflected the best of her Hawaiian and Japanese heritages. Her exquisitely tailored business suit and diamond engagement ring with its matching wedding band shouted wealth, while her last name, Hazelton, signaled power and influence. Mazie, as she liked to be called by her friends, carefully cultivated her image as the administration’s Dragon Lady to tame Washington’s willful, and often obstinate, power brokers. In the rarefied air of the nation’s capital, she was recognized as Madeline Turner’s staunchest advocate and a force to be reckoned with. She could also be a very kind and supporting friend.
“Thank you for coming,” Mazie began. “Before we start, why don’t we go around the room and everyone introduce themselves?” It was quickly done, and Stuart was shaken. Some of the most influential names in the capital were seated at the table, and he was a tadpole, a small fry, or something equally insignificant. He tried not to look uncomfortable.
“President Turner,” Mazie said, “has asked for a complete review of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve and is very concerned about how it impacts on our war-fighting capability. I think you all know how the president works.” She stopped to let her words sink in, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Stuart panicked. He didn’t have the slightest idea how Madeline Turner worked. He was way in over his head. Time to bail out, he thought. Cautiously, he raised his hand, half hoping the national security adviser wouldn’t see it. She did and gave him a little nod. The butterflies in his stomach turned into a swarm of bats in full flight. Very big bats. “Madam…” What was the proper form of address? “Ah…”
For a moment Mazie was back in time and sitting in the same spot. A warm smile spread over her face. “In a meeting like this, Mike, I prefer Mazie. Or if that makes you uncomfortable, Mrs. Hazelton.”
Stuart was so flustered that he missed her use of his first name. But the general sitting next to him didn’t. “Ah,” Stuart said, “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. You really want my boss here, not me.” No answer from Mazie, just the same encouraging smile. Stuart shook his head. “I have no idea how the president works.”
“Efficiently,” Mazie answered, “and she’s amazingly straightforward. In this case she wants a hard, honest, and complete evaluation without a political spin. If there’s bad news, she wants to hear it now, not later when it’s too late to do anything about it. Let me put it this way: She hates surprises. Mike, you’re here because I briefed her on the shortfalls in tanker availability you predicted. She was impressed. Now, if you’ll all turn to paragraph two of the cover letter in front of you, you’ll see she wants a total review of the SPR, to include all upstream, midstream, and downstream factors.”
Stuart relaxed. The national security adviser was speaking the language he understood. “We need,” Mazie continued, “to cut across all departments and leave no stone unturned. Obviously this is a major initiative and will need an executive head to shepherd your work.” She looked at the general sitting next to Stuart. “I asked General Butler to chair this committee and he graciously consented. He’ll report directly to me. Bernie, it’s all yours.”
Lieutenant General Franklin Bernard Butler stood up. “Thank you Mrs. Hazelton.” He rapidly outlined how the committee would work and what their first goals were. From the ready acceptance around the table, it was obvious Butler was an accomplished administrator and had worked with them before. “I’ll need help and would like an assistant to act as the main point of contact and coordination. We need a technician who can see the big picture, keep it all in perspective, and be responsible for all the paperwork. I believe he or she should be from this group.” He looked at Stuart, recalling Mazie’s comments. “If it’s acceptable, I would like Lieutenant Colonel Stuart to step in.”
1
Editor’s note: Madeline O’Keith Turner’s first crisis after she assumed the presidency upon the death of President Quentin Roberts is detailed in the book Power Curve by the same author.