Vince Flynn - Transfer of Power

“The way we attack this is we wait for Aziz to split his force. When they shut the drills down, we’ll have a minimum of a ten-minute window of opportunity to strike. During that time, the number of terrorists guarding the hostages will be no more than six… maybe less if Aziz brings more men over to back him up.”

Back at Langley the plan was gaining ground. Especially with General Flood, a military tactician who loved the idea of dividing his enemy’s forces.

“Iron Man, I like the idea. Sit tight for a minute while we run this one by the president.” General Flood set down his headset and looked at Stansfield. “What do you think?”

VICE PRESIDENT BAXTER sat behind the desk in his study and stared blankly at the TV. The images were nothing more than a blur and the voices a hum of background noises.

He was immersed in the thought of becoming president. It was so tantalizing, so tempting, it had drawn him into a fantasy world. Since early childhood he could remember dreaming of being president one day, and now with it so close, he had some reservations. Not reservations about assuming the office, but how it would play if word leaked that he had been given information that the terrorists were working on getting President Hayes out of the bunker.

Baxter started to think angles. He started to think PR.

First, he had been in New York when the whole mess started.

He wasn’t the one who had invited these terrorists into the White House for coffee. Second, he would somehow have to let it be known that the Pentagon’s best and brightest had sworn the president was untouchable in his new bunker. General Flood’s information that the terrorists might be attempting to extricate the president would have to be down played.

They would have to say the information was vague and incomplete. On top of that they could spin the story of the two SEALS getting caught in the ventilation shaft, and Aziz’s subsequent warnings.

Dallas King would be proven right, though. Eventually, they would have to rely on the morally superior premise that they acted in the interest of saving the hostages. That in good conscience, he could not have risked the lives of all of those people just to make sure the president was safe when, in fact, the information to the contrary was incomplete at best.

Dallas King entered the room eating a banana. He said, “We need to talk about something.” King continued walking across the large study. He sat in one of the two chairs in front of the vice president’s desk and took another bite.

Vice President Baxter picked up the remote control for the TV and hit the mute button.

“What now?”

“Everything went off great at the UN, but I’m a little nervous about tomorrow.”

“Why?” Baxter placed his right elbow on the chair’s armrest and rested his chin on his hand.

“I was just talking to Ted.” King was referring to the vice president’s national security adviser, Ted Nelson.

“He says Israel is starting to make waves.” King sat back and took the last bite of his banana.

“What’s their problem now?”

“They think they know what Aziz’s final demand is, and they want it to be known that they will refuse to cooperate.”

“What do they think the last demand will be?”

“They think he will ask the U.S. and the UN to recognize a free and autonomous Palestinian state.”

“And?” Baxter shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Israel has sent word that they will not be bullied into any such agreement. Ted says his sources are telling him that in four hours the Israeli defense forces will go on alert, and if Aziz demands a free and autonomous Palestinian state, the Israelis will occupy the territories.”

Baxter swung forward in his chair.

“Damn it. You get their ambassador on the line, and tell him if they do any such thing, I’ll make sure their aid from us dries up to nothing.”

King shook his head. “You can’t do that, and they know you can’t. There are too many senators and congressmen that would come to their aid.”

Baxter’s temper flared.

“The hell I can’t.”

King looked at his temperamental boss and waited for him to calm. After several moments he continued.

“Picking a battle with Israel is bad politics… It plays horrible in New York and even worse with our big donors out in Hollywood. I have an idea that might keep everybody happy.” King sat back with a grin and crossed his legs.

On edge, Baxter blurted, “Well, out with it. I don’t have all day.”

“I think it’s time to broker a backroom deal with them. We tell them to protest loudly if the demand is made, but to take no military action. In return, we promise that as soon as this next group of hostages are released, we’ll retake the building.”

“I thought we didn’t want to do that.”

“I thought so at first,” King said cautiously.

“The more I think about it, though, you don’t want to be seen as too big a wimp. If you can succeed in getting two-thirds of the hostages released and then give the order to retake the building,…” King smiled.

“You will be seen as someone who was not just a good diplomat but someone who can get tough when its called for.”

To himself King added, and you’ll solve my problem in the process.

“Maybe.” Baxter frowned while he thought about this new strategy. Then, looking at his watch, he asked, “Why hasn’t Director Stansfield or General Flood come to me with this information?” King shrugged.

“If Ted knows about this, they sure as hell do.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Ted has a better source.”

“Come on,” scoffed Baxter.

“Better than Thomas Stansfield… I doubt it.” Baxter reached for his phone and then realized he didn’t know where either Flood or Stansfield was. One of the minions could take care of that. He had more important things to do with his time. Looking across his large desk, he said, “Get General Flood and Director Stansfield on the line for me.”

STANSFIELD HAD DECIDED it would be better if they called the president from the conference room, so he. Flood, Campbell, and Kennedy left the control room and entered the glass-enclosed bubble. In under a minute both Rapp and President Hayes were on the line.

General Flood gave the president a brief overview of Rapp’s plan to wait until the last possible moment before launching the assault. President Hayes listened intently.

The first question out of his mouth was, “What’s the downside if our timing is off and we wait too long?” Hayes had an inkling of what the result would be.

“If we miscalculate, sir”-General Campbell paused for a second-“we might jeopardize all of you.”

“General Campbell.” It was Rapp on the line

“Delta Force is handling the mansion, correct?”

“Correct.”

“How much time will it take to get them from the forward staging area to the White House… assuming the skids are warmed up and the shooters are locked and loaded?”

“Colonel Gray tells me he can put twelve operators on the roof in under two minutes, and have twelve more on-site within the next thirty seconds.”

“Excuse me for asking”-back in the bunker President Hayes was frowning-“but if we can put that many people on the roof by helicopter, then why in the hell are we screwing around with parachuting these SEALS onto the roof?”

General Flood fielded the question.

“Element of surprise, sir. If we start moving the troops in by helicopter, the media and the thousands of people downtown will see them. We hope to land the SEALS and get them into the mansion without anyone noticing. It’s risky, but it’s the only chance we have of defusing some of the bombs so we can get the HRT in to save the hostages in the West Wing.”