I stared at the guy for a second, both in shock and trying to hide my lack of shock. “What?!”
“Sir, two airliners, jets as big as this one, have slammed into the Twin Towers in New York. The President is trapped in them.” Then he held his hand to the earbud in his ear. “What… say again… Oh, sweet Jesus!” He looked up in horror at us. “Another one just took out the Pentagon!”
The other guys just stared at each other, white faced. “Where are we going?” I asked.
The guy who was listening to his earbud seemed to be in charge. “Sir, that is classified information.”
“Excuse me?” I asked incredulously.
“Sir, where you are at a time like this is classified.”
“Who the hell am I going to tell?” I demanded. “I’m on the plane with you! Now, where are we going?” I looked out the window but simply saw white clouds below us, and occasional glimpses of blue.
“Sir, that is classified. We will stay here and then land at an undisclosed location.”
Unbelievable! The mind set of these people! “Well, mister, you can damn well disclose it to me! I’m the Vice President. I need to know!”
“No, sir, that is not in the ops plan.”
“Jesus Christ!” I muttered to myself. This was ridiculous! I stood up and brushed past him and headed towards the cockpit.
“Sir, sir! You can’t… STOP!” he demanded.
I was grabbed from behind by the Secret Service agent, who dragged me back. “I DEMAND TO SEE THE PILOT!” I roared.
An Air Force type noticed me being dragged back towards my seat, and grabbed a phone and began speaking into it. Moments after I was pushed down into my seat, an Air Force colonel showed up in shirt sleeves. He stared at us for a second and said, “Mister Vice President, I’m Colonel North. I’m the pilot. You asked to see me?”
The lead agent said, “Colonel, this does not concern you. You need to return to the cockpit and proceed with the mission as authorized.”
“Colonel! I demand to know those orders!” I told him.
“Colonel North, you are to continue the mission,” said the agent.
The colonel took one look at them and then at me, and said, “Like hell. Let that man up now, or so help me God I’ll… I’ll… just let him up! Unless you’ve suddenly learned how to fly an airplane, I’m in charge here!”
Hands left me, and I shrugged loose. “Colonel, are you aware of what is occurring in New York and Washington?”
“Yes sir, I am.”
“Do you recognize me as the Vice President of the United States of America?”
“Of course, Mister Buckman. What can I do for you?” he replied.
“Where are we currently and what is our course? We need to get back to Washington immediately!”
“Colonel, this is a classified mission and you cannot reveal our destination!” ordered the lead Secret Service agent.
“Good Lord!” muttered the pilot. “I can’t tell other people, you twit! I can certainly tell the people on the plane!” To me he said, “Sir, we are currently over the Atlantic Ocean, about 75 miles east of Jacksonville, and circling to hold position. We will maintain position here for another two hours and then we will be heading towards Omaha. We will be landing at Offut Air Force Base.”
“Colonel, you may consider yourself under arrest at this time,” said the lead agent.
Colonel North simply rolled his eyes and muttered in disbelief. I shook my head in disgust and said, “Thank you. Now, Colonel, I am countermanding those orders. We need to get back to Washington immediately. Put us into Andrews as soon as possible, please.”
Everybody’s eyes popped open at that. North replied, “Sir, despite what this fool thinks, there is a very good reason to keep you away from Washington in case of an attack.”
I nodded in agreement. “Colonel, that would be very true in the case of either a conventional or special weapons attack. However, nobody capable of such an attack would be using airliners as a weapon. This is terrorism of some sort, and you know it. Now, are you aware that the President is currently in the Twin Towers?” Colonel North was part of the 89th Airlift Wing, the wing assigned to do flight duties for bigwigs in D.C., including the President; he would know where the President was. He nodded. “Then he is either already dead or is about to die.”
There was a collective gasp at that from everyone around me. “Sir, you don’t know what you’re saying!” said North.
“Colonel, what is your degree in? Engineering? How much fuel does an airliner carry? How many tons of avgas have been splashed into those buildings? What temperature will those buildings be burning at? It is simple physics. Those buildings will not survive.”
The pilot had a horrified look of comprehension on his face and slowly nodded. “And when the temperature gets high enough, the structural steel…”
I finished for him. “The structural steel will soften and lose strength and the building will collapse.”
“Colonel, I am ordering you to continue the mission! President Bush will be rescued and will be able to alter these orders at that time,” ordered the lead agent.
Just at that moment somebody yelled out, “It’s gone! One of the towers collapsed!”
Colonel North looked at the two of us, and then stepped towards an intercom. He grabbed it and spoke into it. “Bo, change of plans. Head it towards the barn and put the pedal down.”
“Andrews?” came the tinny response.
“Affirmative. Log it as my order.”
“Roger!” Almost immediately the plane began a steep bank to the right. The pitch of the engines began spooling up, too.
North braced himself against the wall. To nobody in particular he said, “Oh, shit!”
“Yeah! Now, I need to get into the commo section. Who are we in contact with?” I stood up and this time wasn’t grabbed by the Secret Service.
“Who do you want, sir? We can talk to everybody from here, even SAC if you want to start a war.”
I was about to make a reply, when I looked around. “Where’s the football?” I asked.
Everybody looked at each other. The ‘nuclear football’ was a briefcase carried around by an officer, a major or lieutenant commander or higher, with a Yankee White clearance, just about the highest security clearance possible. The briefcase, occasionally handcuffed to his arm, contained the nuclear launch codes. By law they were always supposed to be only a few feet from me. There was a football with the President, one with me, and a spare in the White House.
One of the Secret Service agents said, “We must have left him back in Sarasota!”
I looked at the pilot. “Great! Get this bird moving!”
“Yeah!” he turned and trotted back to the front office. I went to the communications section.
I wasn’t interested so much in giving any orders, but in hearing the latest news. It was fragmented and chaotic but coming in fast. The National Communications System had been activated, the Capitol and the White House had been evacuated, fighter planes, some armed and some unarmed, had been launched to search for airliners not responding to orders, and the FAA had shut down all air traffic in the nation, ordering all flights to land at the nearest airports or risk being shot down.
It was the South Tower which had collapsed. There were helicopters buzzing around the North Tower trying to figure out a way to winch George Bush to safety, one New York City Police chopper had already crashed after getting caught in the smoke and turbulence surrounding the fires. Half an hour after the South Tower collapsed the North Tower went down. The President was still inside.
I only gave one order. All cabinet members possible were to gather at the ‘bunker’, the bombproof Presidential Emergency Operations Center located under the lawn at the White House. When we landed, Marine Two was to transport me immediately to the White House grounds. Marilyn and the twins had already been grabbed and flown by helicopter to Fort Meade, where they had been stashed at the bottom of one of the secure intelligence and command bunkers.