“In his speech, the president glossed over the coincidence, and muttered about having no information about the flight or the airline that owned it. Air Traffic Control confirmed that it was a Boeing 737 and it went down in deep water. And that was supposed to be the end of it.”
“Okay?”
“Well, Henry, as you know, the White House is a village, nothing more, nothing less. Gossip gets around real fast. And an awful lot of people who should know better think there was a lot more to it than that.
“What’s more, they think Admiral Morgan was in it, up to his elbows.”
“Jesus.”
“Henry, I’ve spoken to people who think January 15 was targeted to be another 9/11; that al Qaeda intended to blow up the busiest passenger terminal in the Boston airport, to commemorate American Airlines Flight 11 and United 175. The aircraft that hit the North and South Towers. Both of ’em, as I’m sure you remember, took off from Boston.
“On January 15, three or four hours after the disaster in Terminal C, those al Qaeda guys intended to slam another airliner into the Capitol building in Washington. That was Flight TBA 62, which mysteriously vanished into the Atlantic before it got there.”
“But no one knows why?” said Henry.
“No one has the slightest idea why. And no one’s gonna tell you anything. But I have spoken to a very senior man right here in Washington. And he thinks Admiral Arnold Morgan told the President of the United States to order U.S. fighters to battle stations, and to shoot the fucker down, laden with civilians.”
Henry Brady’s jaw dropped about three inches.
“And my source told me, Henry, the president went right ahead and did just that.”
“As secrets go, that one’s pretty good, eh?” The newspaperman took a long draft of his beer. “You could work on that for years, Anthony, and never get a hint of the truth,” he said. “Like you said, we don’t even know where it went down.”
“I accept that,” said Anthony Hyman. “But you could begin by finding out all about Thunder Bay Airways. They owned the aircraft, they know who was on board, and they might even know where it is. They just might have received a final destination from the pilot. But I’ll tell you one more thing. Thunder Bay Airways is Arab-owned.”
Thus it was, on Thursday morning, February 23, the Washington Post carried a two-page feature on Admiral Morgan, cross-referenced on the front page. It was the biggest feature story Henry Brady had ever written.
The headline read:
THE RETURN OF THE OLD LION OF THE WEST WING Is Arnold Morgan actually running the country? Is the president now isolated with the fire-eating admiral?
The story ran and ran. It detailed the principal events in Admiral Morgan’s career, listed his triumphs, found no disasters, and talked openly of how Paul Bedford had been swept to power when the previous president had refused to tackle a flagrantly vicious terrorist attack on the USA.
It pointed out how reliant so many people had been on the admiral’s support, how the military counted on him to raise hell if their warnings were not heeded.
But it also pointed out how easily he could put people’s noses right out of joint. How he gathered devotees and enemies in equal numbers, how he did not give a damn what anyone thought, just so long as it was right for the USA.
The story stated that President Bedford refused to make big international decisions without him. And that he was ignoring the advice of once-trusted colleagues. Mostly the sentences of Henry Brady started with Insiders say, or Sources close to the president believe, or Staffers fear. Never a name.
Nonetheless, the message was clear. Admiral Arnold Morgan had a great deal to say about the actions of the United States on the international stage, and whereas some people thought “Thank God for that,” there were others. Others who thought this was all very unhealthy, a swerve in the wrong direction, too much power vested in two men, with too little consultation.
Essentially, this very large spread of newspaper type was divided into two sections. The second one occupied a massive “box,” on the right, over three columns, running down most of the page. There was a full-length picture of the admiral, in uniform. In the background was a sinister-looking Los Angeles-class nuclear submarine moored on the jetty. The headline here was:
DID THE ADMIRAL TAKE OVER ON JANUARY 15? And what really happened to the missing Arab 737?
The drift of the story was that the public had never been informed of the true scale of the terrorist plot. They had not even been told that it was, without question, the work of either al Qaeda or an associate organization with close links to Hamas, the Palestinian group.
Henry Brady revealed, flatly, that the man who was shot and then taken, in police custody, to Mass General was now in Guantánamo Bay.
A series of judicious inquiries in New York then led Henry to discover that there had been three arrests at an apartment on Houston Street on January 18, and that one of the men had been flown immediately to Guantánamo Bay. In Henry’s opinion, the other two were on their way, and all of this was on the specific orders of Admiral Morgan.
“No civilian,” wrote Henry, “no retired officer, unelected, unappointed, in the entire history of the United States has ever wielded such formidable power in the Oval Office. Except for Admiral Morgan these past several years.”
He then moved more pointedly to the precise events that took place on January 15. This part of the story was pieced together after a series of interviews with the press office at the Air Traffic Control Center in Herndon, Virginia. Henry had conducted these in person, driven out there and informed the receptionist he was Henry Brady of the Washington Post, and he wished to talk to someone in a senior position, orders of the editor.
The editor of course was in no position to order anyone to do anything at Herndon, but it startled the receptionist and Henry was given access to a couple of public affairs officers.
He made the most of what he was given. Which, in fairness, was not much. Yes, the ATC operators had locked on to Flight 62, which had maintained course, despite being instructed to make a change and swing left inland. It had continued north out over the ocean.
“Why was the course change ordered?”
“I’m sorry, sir. That is classified information.”
“Military?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I cannot answer that.”
“Is it classified?”
“Yes, sir.”
“For how much longer, after the 737 ceased to obey orders from Herndon, did you track it?”
“Sir, I did not say it ceased to obey orders. I said it continued on its northerly course.”
“In flagrant defiance of the ATC instructions, right?” Henry was trying to close in.
“Not necessarily, sir. There may have been an electronic foul-up. Flight 62 may not have been receiving us. We were not in communication. And that would make it an accident, sir. Not defiance.”
Henry persisted. “Okay, let me rephrase. For how long were you able to track the aircraft after you first noticed it was not obeying instructions?”
“I would say less than an hour, sir. We had it on radar, fifty miles offshore, east of Norfolk, Virginia.”
“And then it vanished?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have a record of the height the aircraft was flying when it disappeared?”
“I am certain we do.”
“Could I see that record?”
“I am sorry, but everything’s gone to the government department that investigates such matters.”
“Would anyone remember whether Flight 62 was at thirty thousand feet or two thousand feet when it vanished?”
“Possibly, but that information would be classified right now until the documents are released by the government and a satisfactory explanation has been found.”