Larry Bond - Exit Plan

“Yes, Major.”

6 April 2013

0000 Local Time/0500 Zulu

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Lowell Hardy was hardly surprised by Joanna’s call. She’d been keeping crazy hours, and of course hadn’t been able to tell him anything except that she was an action officer, and it was national security work. She’d managed a few hurried calls, and he’d been patient with her absence, and secretly proud.

He’d been hoping she’d say she was coming home, and could he please cook her something? They could have a quiet meal together and not talk about work.

Instead, she wanted him to meet her at the White House. A car was already on the way to pick him up. When asked why, she said she’d tell him when he arrived.

The limo took him from their Georgetown apartment straight to the visitor’s entrance; his name was on the VIP access list and he was expeditiously processed through security. A staffer collected him and he was quickly escorted first to the West Wing and then down to the situation room.

Joanna was waiting for him by the door, and after he’d passed through another security check, they quickly hugged. She pecked him on the cheek and whispered, “We’ll be able to talk shop, now.”

He’d never been in the White House Situation Room, and was frankly a little envious of his wife. Of course, she’d never gotten to command a nuclear submarine, so that was probably fair.

It was less impressive than he’d thought, and actually a little cramped. There was the obligatory long conference table, wood paneling, and computer screens and maps lining the walls. Several civilian staffers and service members worked at desks in one corner. It wasn’t really about the room. It was about who came here and the decisions they made.

He’d taken all this in as he was almost hustled to one end of the long table. He recognized Alison Gray, the deputy chief of staff at the White House. A man sitting next to her rose as they approached. “Senator Hardy, I’m Steven Weiss, a collection management officer with the National Clandestine Service at CIA. I’m here to brief you into the Gemstone sensitive HUMINT compartment.” He offered Hardy a classified nondisclosure form.

“Senator, you’re being read into the Opal subcompartment of Gem-stone. By signing this form, you agree not to discuss or divulge any information within this subcompartment with anyone else unless that individual is also read in, and their status has been verified by the National Clandestine Service. There is no termination date on this agreement and it will remain in force for the rest of your life. Please check your social security number, then sign and date here.” Hardy quickly scanned the form and signed it, while trying to process the news.

He handed the completed form back to Weiss, but looked at Joanna and then Gray. In a dark gray suit, with her hair pulled back, she looked every inch a White House official. “I’m here to oversee this brief and address any questions that Joanna can’t answer.” She checked her watch, and then said, “We’re a little behind, Doctor. Please tell him what you’ve been working on.”

His wife began what was clearly a well-rehearsed brief, complete with graphics on her laptop. As she called up maps and photographs, she described Michigan and her mission, the Iranian assets, now known to be a married couple, the information they had provided, and the information they claimed to have. Then she described what had gone wrong.

Hardy took it all in silently, although he winced when Joanna mentioned the battery fire on the ASDS. When she finished, Weiss asked him if he had any questions regarding security or access procedures. Hardy shook his head “no,” his mind was halfway around the world, comparing what he knew with what he’d just been told. It didn’t compute.

“So the public bluff and bluster by Iran is just for show? Am I missing something?” Hardy asked.

Gray answered, “A lot of people don’t think it’s a bluff.” She outlined the Israelis’ actions of the past few days. “And there are some people over here who agree with them.”

“But our intelligence community says exactly the opposite.”

“The second file we received, about the reactor in Arak, confirms our information from independent sources,” Gray answered. She glanced at her watch again. “Senator, your wife has been managing the recovery of our people, but that is now one part of a much larger problem.”

“Which is why I need your help,” a new voice added.

Hardy turned to see President Myles, followed by Chief of Staff Alvarez and National Security Advisor Kirkpatrick. Old reflexes kicked in and the retired naval officer snapped to attention. Everyone else also rose and Myles reached out to shake Hardy’s hand. The junior senator from Connecticut sensed a photo opportunity, but there were no cameras present.

Myles seemed to read his mind. “Lowell, I’ve got a tough job for you. If you can make this happen, you will save a lot of lives and make me very grateful — much more grateful than a mere autographed photo.”

“I’m at your service, sir.” Hardy braced himself.

Myles sat down at the head of the table, with the others on either side. Weiss had disappeared, and Hardy tried to remember what form he’d just signed. “First, tell me about Captain Kyle Guthrie.”

Hardy smiled. “I served with Kyle on USS Kentucky. I was the main propulsion assistant, he was an assistant weapons officer. We’ve seen each other since then, occasionally. He’s a good officer. Thorough, takes care of his people. Not as independent as some submarine captains, but there are different opinions on the value of independence.”

Myles nodded. “And his executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell?”

Hardy hesitated for a moment, then answered, “One of the best, sir. I’m sure he’s keeping Michigan running smoothly.” Why was the president interested in Michigan’s XO, Hardy asked himself. Subs were largely one-man shows, and Guthrie was the decision maker.

Myles saw the puzzled expression on Hardy’s face and turned toward Patterson. “You haven’t told him about Mitchell yet?” questioned Myles.

Joanna saw Hardy’s expression change from confusion to concern. “I was going to tell him about that later, sir.” She faced Hardy and took a deep breath. “He’s okay right now, Lowell, but Jerry’s in trouble. He was one of the pilots on the ASDS when it sank. He’s on the beach with the SEAL team and the two Iranians.”

Myles asked, “How will he do in that situation, Senator?”

Hardy hesitated as he absorbed the news. “Well, sir, he’s definitely out of his comfort zone.” He paused again before answering. “I meant it when I said Jerry’s one of the best. He’s intelligent, resourceful, and doesn’t give up.”

“Good.” Myles’s smile seemed genuine. “Now for your mission. Alison briefed you on the Israeli preparations?”

“Yes, sir. It sounds like they’ll be ready to strike in a day or two at the most.”

“You and Joanna are going to change their minds. The Israelis don’t give the files Opal sent the same weight we do, and I need you to convince them to wait. Buy us enough time to get at the rest of the information that the Iranian scientist is carrying.”

“What did they say when you showed them the two files?” Hardy asked.

“They pointed to the IAEA report and imagery of the test site. Our ambassador didn’t make a lot of headway, and Andy Lloyd didn’t push him very hard.” The president paused for a moment, and added, “While Andy and I get along on many things, this isn’t one of them. I must depend on your discretion.”