Chapter 9
- Writ from the Moving Finger, September 2001
September 2001. Deep
down in a labyrinth beneath DC, Boss sits in a huge room surrounded by
all manner of communication devices. These are the latest and most complete
of American technology surpassing even that found in the White House War
Room.
He monitors several TV and
computer screens as he gives orders to aides and talks on the phone. "You'll
have to go right in and interrupt him," he barks into one phone.
He watches the screen where
Potus is reading a book to some children. A Secret Service man is whispering
into Pontus's ear.
Potus blanches nearly white
and his gasp is as audible as his deer-in-the-headlights look changes to
guilt and fear. Then, like a child that refuses to be ordered about, he
ignores the interruption and begins to read the book again.
^"Go back in and drag
him the hell out of there," Boss yells into the phone. "I want
to speak to him now." The TV screen shows this order being obeyed
and soon Potus is breathlessly asking what went wrong. It was supposed
to be one small plane.
"Calm down and stop talking like
that." Boss tells him soothingly. "I want you to get on Air Force
One and get back to DC at once."
"No!"
Potus objects. "They are after me and will send a plane into the White
House."
"Nonsense, Potus. It's all over.
There will be no more planes; however, it might be just as well if we gave
the impression that there was danger to you so I'll instruct the pilot
to take you to safety."
After a few words with the
flight chief, Boss turned to an aide, "Get me this number and then
arrange a conference call with Dod and Cyotesall stat. Thanks that was
fast," then speaks into the phone. "Morning, Bar, how are you.
Yes, yes, all is well in hand, never fear; right now we need your help.
"Potus is pretty wobbly
so would you just talk to him a bit? You have a way of stiffening his spine
up and we really need that now. I was sure you would. My aide will fill
you in on the details and connect you. Thanks, Bar."
Still monitoring the many
screens showing the unfolding horror at the WTC, Boss turned to the conference
call. "Dod, get a large military VIP plane ready to load the Saudis
and take off ASAP. Quietly as possible and answer no questions.
"Cyo, my aides have
called around and contacted the Bin Ladens but there are still a few other
Sauds to round up. See that they get on that plane. Yes, I know all planes
have been grounded. I gave the frigging order and now I'm giving this order.
Now hop to it and get those people out of here."
Boss answers another phone,
listens and sighs in relief. "Great, Bar, I knew you could get him
to go back to Washington. I've got his other mommies, Kar and Mar, lined
up to get him ready for his speech to the country. They will settle him
down and drill him until he's in the frame of mind to do it right."
Several hours later, Boss
entered a conference room located adjacent to his war room. Dod and Cyotesall
are waiting. He pulls out a chair, smiles and with great satisfaction says,
"Mission accomplished, men.
"Here's the bottom line. The people
are terrified. We have the whole country on its knees begging Bush to save
them. It will absolutely support an invasion of Afghanistan and any other
country we link with what happened today.
"Nine eleven is our answer for
everything we do and our excuse for everything that we fail to do. Iraq
is ours as are four more years in power. By
the way, instruct all of your people to be vague about the events of this
day.
"It would be expected
after such a shocking carnage but more importantly for our purposes it
will keep the administration from being pinned down on anything. Try not
to smile," he cautioned noting their pleased expressions. "Be
solemn and prayerful at all times."
Boss touched a button on
the desk and a TV screen lit up showing the Oval Office and Potus. His
9/11 speech to the nation begins...
