Wanting to understand a little about what was going to be discussed before he walked into the Oval Office, Lewis held onto Hastert's hand when they finished their perfunctory handshake, much to Hastert's discomfort.
"Who will be joining us, Mr. Hastert?"
Pulling his hand free, Hastert looked at it, then back at Lewis. "No one else, Congressman Lewis. The president wanted to talk to you in private.
The president is ready to see you."
Unable to discern the subject of the meeting, and taking Hastert's less than subtle hint, Lewis decided to trust his luck and skill in dealing with this impromptu meeting. "Well then, Mr. Hastert, we mustn't keep the president waiting. After you."
Trailing Hastert, Lewis weaved his way around the desks of the outer office and past two security men standing outside the Oval Office. Once inside, Lewis saw that the president stood motionless at the french doors behind his desk, staring vacantly out into the Rose Garden. That man, Lewis thought, is not a happy one. With his arms folded tightly across his chest, his shoulders rolled forward, and his head down, the president appeared to Lewis to be a man under considerable stress. After Hastert announced that Lewis was there, the president hesitated before turning to face the two men. When he did, he kept his arms folded and his head down, looking up instead at Lewis with eyes that were puffy and surrounded by dark circles. "Thank you for coming over so fast, Ed." Even when he dropped his arms, motioning as he walked over to an armchair for Lewis to take a seat, the president's head still drooped down, his chin almost coming to rest on his chest. "Please, take a seat. Would you like some coffee?"
Lewis was about to say no, then reconsidered. Ever since his wife, Amanda, got on her decaffeinated kick, he never passed up the chance to get a real cup of coffee when he thought he could get away with it.
Amanda had even managed to infiltrate his own office in the congressional building, instructing his staff to serve only decaf to him. Though it was a foolish gesture, out of habit Lewis looked about furtively to see if there was anyone in the room who would tell on him before he accepted the president's offer.
When everyone was seated and Lewis had been afforded the opportunity to savor his coffee, the president started. "As you so eloquently put it yesterday, Ed, we, I've got both hands full with a tar baby."
Lewis sighed. He was almost sorry that he had made that comment.
After all, it had been a cheap shot that not even this guy deserved. Still, there was nothing he could do about that now. Though he thought of apologizing, he didn't. While it might have been a cheap shot, Lewis decided, in the end it had been aH.too true.
"Ed, I'm in a very bad spot, and you know it."
Looking up from his coffee cup, Lewis smiled. ' 'You're sort of like the guy who has his private parts caught in his fly. Even though he knows he needs to do something, and soon, he also knows that, no matter what he does, including nothing, it's going to hurt like hell."
While Hastert frowned, the president laughed. "That's what I love about you, Ed. You have a unique way of putting things." Then, in a flash, the laughter was gone. "You're right, of course. We are in a bad spot and need to do something, even though it's going to hurt like hell."
For a moment, Lewis looked at the president. He agreed with neither the man's politics nor his policies. He didn't even like the president as a man. Still, he was the president, and a person. For a moment, in the president's eyes, Lewis saw a human being who was in trouble and needed help. Rather than let the president thrash about, trying to save whatever pride he could, Lewis decided to let him off the hook. Besides, it would be wrong to use the president's current predicament for political or personal ends. Whatever personal satisfaction he might derive from such an effort would be washed away by Lewis's conscience, something that he still had despite his five years in Congress. "What, Mr. President, can I do to help?"
Relieved of the need for further groveling, the president launched into his proposal. "I need someone to go to Mexico, someone with military experience, and yet not connected with the military, who can give me a clear, unbiased, and objective view of what the commanders in the field are thinking and how they view the situation, from a military standpoint."
Lewis gave the president a sideways glance. "Are you telling me that you don't trust what your own Joint Chiefs are telling you?"
"Ed, it's not that I don't trust them. It's just that I do not believe that they can be objective about this anymore. They, like the CIA, got caught short by the fight around Monterrey and active participation by the Nicaraguans.
Between trying to explain away their failures by justifying their initial positions and scrambling to make the current battle plan work, everyone in Washington has lost sight of the long-term goal, national security. I need solutions, real solutions, not fixes. And before I can come up with those solutions, I need some solid, unvarnished information."
Leaning forward toward Lewis, the president looked into his eyes while he rested his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together, almost as if he were begging. "Ed, will you go?"
For a moment, Lewis considered the president's offer. What a great way, he thought, of getting an opponent out of the way. Was the president, he thought, using the old adage that it was better to make friends rather than multiply enemies? Was he buying time, in the hope that by sending Lewis to Mexico he could appease his critics and hope that the Mexican government would buckle under? Or was the president sincere?
Was he really seeking a real solution? "Who, Mr. President, are you sending with me, whom do I answer to, and what restrictions are there on my comings and goings down in Mexico?"
The president opened his hands. "You may take whomever you like, you report back to me when you are ready, and you will have a free hand to go wherever you want and speak to whomever you feel you need to talk to. You have a free hand."
That, Lewis thought, was inviting. Turning the idea over in his mind as he took a long sip of coffee, he decided to press for more. After all, if he was going to become involved, he wanted to be part of the solution, to do something meaningful, and not just become a storefront dummy. He looked down at his cup. "If that reporter, Jan Fields, is to be believed, we have not done all we could to reach an understanding and appreciation of the situation that the Council of 13 is dealing with." With a glance over to Hasten, Lewis continued. "It says a lot when a foreign government is forced to use a TV correspondent as a means of passing messages to us." As Hasten struggled to contain his anger at the slap Lewis had given him, Lewis turned to the president. "Any solution will need to involve the Mexicans. Unilateral action, as we have seen, is a noncontender.
Therefore, if I go to Mexico, I want to have the ability to travel to Mexico City, with this Jan Fields, and open a dialogue with the Council of 13 on your behalf."
As if he had already considered that request, the president responded without even bothering to look over to Hastert. "That, Ed, is more than what I had in mind, but you're right." The president eased himself back into his seat. Though he didn't like the idea of Lewis, trailed by a high-speed correspondent like Fields, running around in Mexico City, the president decided that he had little choice. He had, in fact, decided before Lewis had arrived to accept JHSt about whatever Lewis asked, since, as he had put it so eloquently, there would be pain involved no matter what the president did. "You are right. We were, in fact, discussing just how best to respond to the council's message when you arrived. You, if you would be so kind, can carry my personal message back to the Mexican government.