I listened to Myers’ spiel and looked at the computerized map he had on the giant wall screen. At the end, I had a few questions. “General, in which of these options are we attacking the Taliban itself. I don’t mean their military assets. I mean their government.”
He looked at me in confusion. “Sir, I’m not sure I understand. Both in Baker and Charlie options we will be destroying their Army and Air Force.”
“General, correct me if I’m wrong, but their Air Force is limited to a few barely workable helicopters and their Army uses captured Soviet tanks and artillery pieces from the Eighties. No, I mean the government itself. Why aren’t you attacking their Congress or Parliament or White House or whatever they call it over there?”
“Sir, attacking a foreign government… it just isn’t done, sir.”
“Why not? They attacked ours? As much as the Afghanis want to sit there and say they weren’t involved, we all know they were up to their necks in it, and I see no reason not to cut them off at those necks. I can pretty much guarantee they don’t have any qualms about attacking our government. I expect to see an option with attacks on the Taliban presented to me. Now, just what sort of assets do you have planned? Bombers? Afghanistan doesn’t have a coastline, so who are we going to have to fly over to get there? What’s the plan for that?”
For that he actually had an answer. Bombers would be staged out of Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean, with tanker support. Meanwhile the Navy would be in the northern Arabian Sea with carriers, which would fly missions and launch Tomahawks.
“So we will overfly Pakistan while we do this? What makes you think they will appreciate us violating their territorial integrity to wage war on their buddies? Al Qaeda might be Arab, but the Taliban is a subsidiary of the Pakistanis,” I said.
By now Rice and Powell were looking thoughtfully at me, but Myers and Cheney looked angry, and Harold Tillison, the temporary CIA director looked like he was wondering how I knew so much about the assholes on the other side of the planet. Obviously I wasn’t following the script.
Cheney answered, “Well, obviously we will need to inform the Pakistani government ahead of time and secure permission.”
“Well, while you are doing that, why not send a telegram to Kabul at the same time? The ISI in Pakistan has them on speed dial,” I replied. The ISI was the Pakistani Inter-Services Intelligence Agency, a combination CIA and FBI, and was filled with hardliners and Muslim radicals. They were directly responsible for financing and supporting Muslim terrorist groups in Afghanistan and India.
I turned back to Myers. “General, I appreciate this, but it is inadequate. I want you to understand the overall concept I have of our response. We are going to bomb their country into rubble, then we are going to bomb their rubble into gravel, and then we are going to bomb their gravel into dust. Figure a way to start it without the Pakistanis knowing about it. The minute we launch, I will invite the Pakistani ambassador in here and tell him where the bear shits in the woods, and he can like it or lump it. I expect you back here in two days with an Option Delta, with some very specific target lists and details. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Thank you. Oh, and come up with something other than that cockamamie name! Enduring Freedom? How about something a lot closer to the truth, like Operation Justifiable Homicide!” Colin Powell smirked at that and rolled his eyes. “I want to begin operations in two weeks or less. Make it happen.”
For the rest of the week I went about rebuilding the Cabinet. Wednesday morning John Ashcroft told me that the DIA Director, Wilson, and Radziwill, the guy from State, had been picked up at their homes by FBI agents. Wilson had promptly lawyered up and was on ice at the moment, but Radziwill was frightened to death and they had granted him immunity from prosecution for giving them people higher up the food chain. Radziwill promptly named Scooter Libby as giving him the orders. By Thursday afternoon Dick Cheney learned that Scooter Libby was being investigated by the Justice Department and demanded an audience with me. I let him in to see me and he told me in no uncertain terms that Scooter was being railroaded and that I needed to shut down this witch hunt. He couldn’t possibly run the State Department without such a critical man as his deputy.
I let him go on like this for a few minutes and stopped him. “Dick, you’ve had your say, so here is mine. I know about the investigation. I’m the guy who ordered it. I sent the individuals involved directly to the Attorney General. I know Scooter’s your friend, but the best thing you can do is to tell him is to cooperate and to hire a good lawyer. I will not be issuing pardons over anything related to 9-11. Is that understood?”
“You can’t do this! He’s done nothing wrong!”
I shrugged. “Then he’ll be fine, won’t he. On the other hand, from what I’ve seen of Scooter, he doesn’t blow his nose without asking you which tissue to use. If you told him to destroy information, maybe you should be getting a lawyer, too.”
“HOW DARE YOU!”
“Dick, I think the time has come for the parting of the ways. Would you prefer to resign or do you want me to ask you to leave? Which statement should I have Ari issue?” I had gone through enough with the man. I didn’t need Dick Cheney to look tough. Enduring Freedom (Colin told me to behave and accept the name) was going to do that just fine.
“You go to hell, Buckman!”
“Okay, so be it. Ari Fleischer will be issuing a statement this afternoon that in light of our disagreements over foreign policy I have asked you to stand down as Secretary of State effective immediately. I hereby warn you that you have sworn various oaths regarding secrecy and classified information, and that violation of those oaths will be prosecuted, and I do not issue pardons.”
Cheney’s face was beet red and I wondered if he would have a heart attack right there in my office. I wouldn’t really mind, but as the saying goes, the paperwork is a nightmare! He stormed out of my office, slamming the door as he went, and my next call was to Ari Fleischer. Ari was going to end up hating me. My second call was to Colin Powell, to let him know that his new job was available.
Dick did not go gentle into that good night. The news reports that evening uniformly began with the story of Dick Cheney’s dismissal as Secretary of State, and how I was cleaning house in the Cabinet. Most of the networks had two or three stories, perhaps one on Cheney’s dismissal and a second reviewing all the names I had fired so far. Only NBC had picked up on the Justice Department’s investigation of ‘improprieties by senior employees of the State Department’, though they didn’t have any details, and Brokaw speculated that this was part of the reason for Cheney’s dismissal. For his part, Cheney denounced me as weak and deluded. A firm hand was needed to guide our country and I was out of my depth.
A much easier conversation was with Richard Clarke. I had asked for him to come over and speak to me for a few minutes Thursday afternoon. I had worked with him earlier in the year trying to wake people up about terrorism. I suspect he knew I was going to offer him a job, but not which job. I made it easy. I offered him the Central Intelligence Agency and told him I wanted the mess cleaned up, the sooner the better. He didn’t bat an eye, but signed right up.
I had a different conversation with John McCain. He arrived Friday morning and was ushered straight in. It wasn’t that I was being overly deferential, but the man was a very senior Senator, and I had no good reason to piss off the Senate. I had already decided I wanted much more of a collegial atmosphere than some Presidents had with Congress. I wanted to make some changes, and if kissing some Congressional ass was required, so be it.