John Nance - Headwind

He understood the law and the myriad variations of European practice, but he had never taken the time to attempt admission. Even in the U.K. he would need a local solicitor and barrister, though he wouldn’t be allowed to speak in open court.

I’ve got the priorities wrong, he decided. I’ve got to figure out how to get myself over there first.

In the few breaks between the vital transatlantic calls he’d been fielding, Jay had tried to find which nonstop flights left from Denver to European destinations. It had been a disjointed effort represented by wildly scribbled notes in the margins of the third legal pad as he raced back and forth to his computer to make the inquiries.

There was only one, a new daily United non-stop to London. All the others made at least one stop somewhere on the East Coast.

“Regardless of where you end up, John, I can get airline connections from London,” he had told the President during the last call, “but I’ll be partially out of contact for up to ten hours.”

“Book only first class for yourself, Jay,” the President had directed, “and only on an airline that has satellite phone service.”

“But… that’s thousands of dollars more,” Jay had replied, looking for excuses to stay in coach, which was considerably closer to the tail than any first class cabin. His stomach churned at the prospect of being in the very front of an airplane. Despite the impassioned pleas of an airline pilot friend that he was holding onto a groundless myth, Jay refused to believe a passenger wasn’t safer in the back.

“I’m perfectly okay flying coach.”

“I won’t hear of it,” John Harris had replied. “It’s the cost of doing business. Think about it, Jay. I need you working and communicating all the way across the Atlantic. Only first class.”

“If you insist,” Jay said as he fought the conclusion that he’d just been sentenced to die in a plane crash.

“Okay, let’s talk about what we’re going to do. What’s your strategy?” John Harris asked.

“I wish I had one!” Jay replied. “Right now, I’m still trying to guess how long this little charade about where you are is going to work. I mean, we probably have at least as long as it takes the C-17 to get to Andrews, but what then? That 737 you’re on can’t carry enough fuel to fly nonstop across the Atlantic, so even if we can charter that aircraft and crew and get you out of there, we have to face the prospect of landing you somewhere else outside of U.S. control, and that means we’ve got to expect Campbell will be there, wherever that is, with the warrant and local authorities.”

“Suppose we don’t tell anyone where we’re going to land? Could Campbell move that fast?”

“The pilots have to file a flight plan, John. I promise you Campbell will be informed of the destination as soon as its filed.”

“But, Jay, if they believe that just my staff is on board and I’m gone, who’ll know?”

“The media. They’ll be waiting at Andrews Air Force Base when the aircraft arrives and they won’t see you get off. That’s when the cat will depart the bag at high speed.”

“But… let’s suppose they arrange to taxi the aircraft right into one of the Air Force One hangars and out of sight. I mean, I’ve been there, Jay, as President. Those hangars are huge!”

“You’re overlooking something really basic,” Jay said, shifting the phone to his other ear. “Cavanaugh decided he couldn’t pull you out of there because the U.S. couldn’t be seen as an international hypocrite when it comes to enforcing a major treaty.”

“I know. He explained his reasons to me. I can’t fault him.”

“Well, he’s agreed to smokescreen the media for a little while to help us, but that’s probably as much as he can do, since this ruse to fuzz up where you are carries a lot of political risk.”

John Harris sighed. “I know. I was trying to ignore that. He really does need to tell the world he didn’t stiff-arm the warrant.”

“I’ve been flipping through the channels, John. The negative publicity and second-guessing has already started, and Cavanaugh’s likely to get a double backlash. I doubt we can rely on the White House for anything else until this actually lands in a courtroom. I mean, it’s true that many Americans are going to be outraged that he left you there, but when the media finds the White House pulled a half-truth deception, they’ll howl that the President personally orchestrated it specifically to help you escape international justice. And, his opposition will scream that he didn’t have the guts to do the job right by using the Air Force. Either way he loses whatever value he might have gained by leaving you there. And just watch. As soon as everyone knows you’re still in Sigonella or anywhere else in Europe, Campbell will race there with the warrant. I’m sure he’s got every country covered.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Jay,” Harris replied, falling silent for a while. “You know,” the President began, his voice betraying fatigue, “I wonder if the right thing to do… the best thing… wouldn’t be to just pick the best place and surrender. After all, this is a borderless process, and I do support the basic idea of the treaty.”

“Well…”

“When Campbell called here in the plane, he said to me that the act of running from this warrant is beneath my dignity. Jay, he may well be right.”

“I don’t know, John. If I could be sure…”

“Maybe we’d be best off figuring out which country would never accelerate the extradition process, and just accept the arrest there. I am scared of this thing, Jay. It scares me because there’s always an outside chance some judge will go temporarily insane and grant Campbell’s request, and you know if they ever get me to Lima, I won’t get out for a long, long time, if ever.”

Jay closed his eyes and tried to think it through. “John, surrendering is too big a risk. And you’re not being a hypocrite to avoid an illicit warrant. We do know it’s illicit, right? I mean, I hate to ask…”

“Of course,” Harris replied quietly. “Of course it is.”

“Well, then you know Campbell. Hell, John, he wrote that treaty, and I’ll give you even money he’s already constructed a detailed plan on how to accelerate the extradition process in a half dozen countries, if not all of them. The man is famous for thinking way ahead of the game. That’s what frightens me the most. You could end up trapped somewhere for a year, and still be sent to Lima!”

“Only if a judge ruled the warrant valid, and I don’t think that would ever happen in a properly constituted common law system. Think about it, Jay. Think about whether I should just surrender or not. Get yourself on a plane moving in this direction, but think about it, because… I’m not sure trying to run from this is the right thing.”

“I will.”

“And consider the U.K. Maybe I should go there and surrender. They were careful with Pinochet, even if they were only temporarily ready to pack him off to Spain a year later. After all, the English system is the mother of our system – absent the sanctimonious wigs, of course.”

“I always liked those wigs, John. They lend dignity to a process that’s often anything but dignified.”

There was another long sigh from Sigonella. “Well, that’s the operative word, isn’t it?”

“Sir?”

“Dignity. I do not want to do something undignified, Jay, no matter how frightened I might be. Even out of office, an American President carries the dignity of the office with him, and I’m trying hard not to forget that.”

For the past hour, Edwin Glueck had been quietly moving among the milling passengers in the Air Mobility Command passenger lounge, talking quietly one by one to the male members of his tour group.