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They looked at each other, and then one began to speak. “Sir, confirmed intelligence is, of course, difficult in Afghanistan under any circumstances. We have more than a bit of signal and electronic intelligence which is pointing to possible locations for senior members of various terrorist linked groups…” He went on for another minute or two.

I held my hand up and stopped him. “Let’s try this a different way. Yes or no — Do you know where Osama bin Laden is?” He was off and running again, without actually saying anything. I cleared my throat. “Last chance. Yes or no? If I have to ask a third time I will ask your partner there, because you will be unemployed.”

His eyes snapped open, and he stammered out, “No.”

“Thank you. Wasn’t that easy? Now, do you have any locations of places he might be hiding, him or anybody else? Safe houses or something? Do they have an office somewhere? Maybe in the downtown Kabul business district? The headquarters of Al Qaeda, Inc. Where do they get their mail and their cell phone bills, that sort of thing?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my lips.

They glanced at each other again, and the second guy answered, “We have some information on possible locations, but nothing completely confirmed.”

“Has that information been given to the generals and admirals here, for inclusion in their targeting lists?”

“We were waiting to confirm our options.”

I leaned back and counted to ten slowly. “Let me make this abundantly clear. Those locations go on the target list now, no matter how fuzzy they might be. I don’t care if it’s in the basement of the Afghan version of the Washington Monument. We are going to drop a really, really big bomb on it. Is this understood or not?”

I received a chorus of “Yes, sir!” from around the table.

“Thank you.” I looked around the room. “Let me be perfectly frank. Regardless of any irritation I might feel at times, this is probably the most important thing I will ever do. In a matter of days I will be sending our men and women into combat. I have a son and a nephew serving, and I know that some of you have children in the services also. We have to get this right. What do I have to do to get it right? If you need me to do something, you have to ask. I do not intend to be calling mothers to tell them their baby isn’t coming home because we at this table didn’t do everything we could to get it right!” I looked back down at the CIA. “Would the Israelis know where these assholes are?”

They looked at each other again. “I don’t know, sir. Maybe. Nobody gets in these groups. You practically have to be born into them. On the other hand, maybe.”

I looked at the wall, where around the room were spaced clocks with different time zones marked. Israel was plus-seven, so it was approaching midnight there. “If I call Sharon tomorrow morning, I’ll ask for help. Perhaps you two could prime the pump and let him know I will be calling?”

“Of course, sir. When do you want to call?”

“Will he be at his office at 0800 local time?” I asked.

Eyes snapped open at that. That meant I would have to call him at 0100 Washington time, after midnight! “Yes, sir. He should be.”

“Get the message to him. Now, if we are done here, I need to get back to the White House. Marilyn and the girls are coming down. It will be the first time they have been to the White House. Thank you all. I am sure we will be talking again.” I stood, and Josh and I headed out.

“You know, it’s not that late. Sharon is probably still awake,” said Josh.

I glanced at my watch. It was a bit after 3:00 PM, so it was a bit after 10:00 PM in Tel Aviv. I shrugged. “Maybe so, but if I am calling on somebody for a favor, it pays to do it on his schedule, not yours. Maybe you’re right. Follow up with those two from the CIA. If he’s still up and wants to call me, I’ll take the call. Otherwise, I’ll stay up late.”

He asked, “What do you plan to ask Sharon to do?”

“Not sure, yet. You don’t need to be there, Josh. You need some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. It’s Friday. I’m calling it an early day.”

We drove back over to the White House (No, you don’t just drive! It’s a caravan of War Wagons, the armored limo, a disguised ambulance with doctor and nurse, motorcycles, flashing lights — basically a heavily armed and armored zoo on wheels!) We got there just in time to see Marine One coming in for a landing on the South Lawn. I sent Josh on his way and waited for my family to come out. After the helo settled down, I began walking across the lawn towards them. First off was Marilyn, followed by the twins. Last off was a Secret Service agent struggling with a gigantic hairy monster, otherwise known as the First Puppy. Stormy was happy to get out of her travel cage and wanted to jump down and run around for a bit, and looked like she could easily drag the burly agent with her.

I jogged a little closer and she pulled loose and ran down the stairs and came close enough for me to grab her leash. Some luggage came off the chopper and then it took off again. It felt good to see everyone again. I had been holed up in the White House all week, not the every other night routine I had been often able to do as a Congressman or Vice President. I missed my family. I even missed my dog, who romped madly around for a few minutes before squatting and dropping a load of Presidential Puppy Poop on the lawn. Afterwards she looked up at me and I said, “Stormy, you are not really what I would call Presidential caliber! You barely qualified for Congress!”

I got a loud ‘Woof!’ in return, and then she pulled me along. I tugged her back and then went over to Marilyn and the girls. The twins didn’t look terribly enthused to see me, and Marilyn had a half smile on her face.

I looked at them, and then sat down on a bench. “Okay, what’d I do now?”

My wife looked at me and said, “What are you talking about?”

“What’s with you two?” I asked of Holly and Molly. “I’m the Dad, so it has to be my fault.”

They both gave me mopey looks and refused to answer. Marilyn sighed and said, “You have interfered with their social schedule. They were invited to a party tonight and I had to say they were coming here.”

Neither of the girls argued with this. I just looked them over and said, “Okay, fair enough. I am sorry to screw up your busy schedules, but I need to run the country from here. Let’s make a deal. Every other weekend you come down here. This is only for the rest of the school year.”

“What about when you go away? What do we do then?” complained Molly.

“What are you talking about?”

“We saw on the news you were going overseas?” added Holly.

“Ahh, don’t worry about that.” The news was running reports that I had been invited to visit several countries. “Nothing is definite, but you two are old enough that you can stay on your own, with the Secret Service around, if your mother and I have to travel. Again, come summer time, you two might want to travel with us. We might be going to some pretty neat places.”

They looked at each other for a moment and were considering it. “What about dates?”

“They have to pay for their own flights,” I replied, deadpan. Marilyn rolled her eyes at that.

Holly protested, “No, Daddy! How do we date like this!?”

“Give me a break! You date the same way you did when I was the Vice President! There’s no going out on school nights anyway, you know that. Just tell your boyfriend that the leader of the free world needs to see you every other weekend. If he wants to drive down and take you out, fine by me.”