Lethal Trajectories (19 page)

Last night’s bout with nausea and severe abdominal pain hadn’t helped matters any. Thank goodness, Doc Toomay was there within minutes to see him. “What’s going on, Doc? Why are these things happening?” asked Burkmeister in anguish.

“This may only be a temporary thing, Mr. President, or it may be that the next stage of the disease is kicking in sooner than we had expected. I just don’t know at this time, and there aren’t many tests that can be given now to ascertain the precise stage you are in.”

“Doc, no one but my Maker knows when my time will come, but I’m asking you as a friend, what is your gut telling you? How much
effective
time do I have left? I need to make sure the transition to Clayton McCarty is done as smoothly as possible. I don’t want this to be a deathbed hand-off.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Mr. President, and medical science is not …”

“Doc,” the president interrupted, exasperated, “I didn’t ask you what medical science thought, and I won’t sue you if you’re wrong. I’m just asking you, man-to-man, as an outstanding medical doctor for over thirty years, what is your gut telling you about how much
effective
time I have left?”

Admiral Toomay, obviously startled by Burkmeister’s stern command, pondered his response before answering.

“Mr. President, here it is: I think your doctors at Walter Reed are overly optimistic about your prognosis. The attack you had a little while ago, your color, and general demeanor are all telling me that it may only be a matter of weeks for you. If what I think is happening is, indeed, happening, I don’t think you have an
effective
timeframe that will get you through the end of the next month. We can keep you comfortable, to be sure, but it will mean an increased dose of painkillers that will prevent you from having the clear head you need for your job. I’m sorry to be so blunt, Mr. President, but you asked, and that’s really how it’s looking to me right now.”

“Thanks, Doc,” said Burkmeister, trying to maintain his composure. “That’s very important information for me to have, and I really do appreciate your candor. I’ll take the pain pill you left with me tonight, and we’ll see how things go tomorrow. Thanks so much for coming.”

“Indeed, Mr. President, and please be sure to call me if there are any changes in your condition.”

The pain pill had done its job, and the president had one of his best night’s sleep since arriving in the White House. He felt rested as he walked into the Oval Office and greeted his secretary, Virginia Mogenson. “Morning Ginnie, did you miss me?” he asked in a chipper voice.

“Good morning, Mr. President, and welcome back. It’s so good to see you again,” she answered with compassion and sincerity. “I wasn’t sure exactly when you would be back, so for all intents and purposes your day is free of any appointments or meetings.”

“Thanks, Ginnie,” said the president, appreciative of her work. “Could you give Candace Pierson a call and have her stop by my office at about nine thirty? Tell her to set aside about forty-five minutes for the meeting and to clear her calendar for the remainder of the day. I would also like you to call the cabinet for a meeting here tonight at seven o’clock that will last about two hours. Can do?”

“Sure thing, Mr. President,” she replied. She would know that calling both the press secretary and cabinet in for a special meeting meant that something big was in the air, but he would have to leave it at that as he continued into his office to prepare for the day.

At nine thirty in the morning, Candace Pierson was escorted in to see the president. “Good morning, Candace,” Burkmeister said, “thanks so much for coming on such short notice. Did Ginnie tell you to clear your schedule today?”

“She did, Mr. President, and I’m almost afraid to ask why.”

When he broke the gruesome news, she was speechless, just as Clayton had been a few nights ago. But after a few moments of personal time, she put on her press secretary hat and was all business. Her ability to discuss his condition and succession plans with near-instant professional detachment amazed him, but after all, it was her ability to give sound advice under fire that had landed her the job in the first place.

His next appointment was with White House Counsel William Maroney, with whom he had conferred on Saturday about the legal niceties of the succession process. He told Maroney, “I just finished talking with Candace, and she said we need a brief summary of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment that can be handed out at the cabinet meeting tonight at seven o’clock. I’d like you to prepare a summary and be there, Bill.”

As Maroney headed out, a wave of exhaustion washed away the last of his morning’s verve. Knowing he still had a big day ahead of him, the president told Ginnie he was going to take a little visit to Shangri-la and asked to be called at about half past noon.

He closed the door to Shangri-la and immediately took off his dark gray pinstriped suit coat. Stretching out on the large couch, he pondered the date he had set for the succession to take place—the first of November. His violent attack last night, the heavy-duty pain medication required to tame it, and Doc Toomay’s ominous prognosis convinced him there was little time left. Candace Pierson had said a short while ago—quite rightly—that a delay would only confuse the situation. He would be a lame duck, and Clayton would be a premature one. A leadership crisis would be the worst of all possible worlds, he concluded, and shortly before dozing off he made a decision that he hoped Clayton would accept.

Burkmeister wasted little time getting down to business following Clayton’s two o’clock arrival. “Clayton, I’ve had an interesting morning following an awful night, and I think we’ll need to move the succession date up by a couple of weeks. Let me explain my reasoning, and if you don’t agree, we’ll go back to the original date of November first.”

He could see Clayton was taken aback as he continued.

“I had an awful time last night, Clayton. It took some mighty powerful painkillers to get me stabilized, and it made me realize that my ability to function as president may be impaired in the near future. I just can’t take a chance on that happening again. I don’t want this to be a deathbed handoff, and prolonging the inevitable will only create confusion in the chain of command, or perhaps even send out false signals to the international community and encourage mischief from folks who don’t like us.”

“I can’t argue with your logic, Mr. President,” Clayton replied after a short pause.

Relieved, Burkmeister continued, “Candace is also helping me with tonight’s speech, and we both agree that it should be brief, firm, and to the point. I’ll announce my terminal illness and inability, before long, to perform at 100 percent. I will stress how our constitution has made provision for a smooth transfer of power; that it has been done before and will probably be done again; and that there will be continuity in the U.S. government and commitment to our values, responsibilities, and allies. I will remind our friends and foes alike that ours is a government of laws rather than men, and that there will be no discontinuity in leadership because of the loss of one person. I’ll then assure them of my confidence in you and your leadership experiences as a Marine Corps officer, CEO of a major company, governor of California, and the work you have done as an activist vice president.”

“In a short while, I’ll be making a few personal phone calls to the leaders of the House and Senate and maybe one or two others. I’ll meet with Secretary of State Cartright shortly to fill her in on the situation, and then I’ll have her call some of our key allies around the world right around the time of our cabinet meeting tonight.”

“Is there anything I can do, Mr. President?” Clayton asked. The president paused, surprised, then realized that McCarty probably chafed at having nothing to do but wait as the heavy burden of the presidency loomed over him.

“You’re going to be a busy man in the coming days, Clayton, but there’s not all that much you’ll have to do tonight other than show up and look like presidential material. Candace suggested, and I agree, that we should have a joint press conference tomorrow morning. We would both be sitting at a table, facing the audience of reporters, demonstrating physically and symbolically the continuity of our government. I would suggest we meet here at about eight o’clock tomorrow morning to get our stories straight and then meet with the press at ten. At this point in time, transparency and continuity are of crucial importance.”

“I’d be fine with that, Mr. President. It’s a good idea.” Clayton replied, and then added, “If it’s all right with you, I’d also like to talk to Candace before the meeting.”

“That would be fine, Clayton. By the way, I asked her to work outside her office today so as not to draw attention to the work she’ll personally be doing. I’m sure her secretary will know where she can be reached. In fact, I’ll have Ginnie give her a call and then get back to you.”

Cabinet members started to arrive at the White House about half an hour before the scheduled seven o’clock meeting. Their presence was no surprise to the crowd of reporters camped out on the White House grounds, because the White House had requested an all-media network hook-up for an address by the president on an issue of national importance. The cabinet meeting merely added to the drama of what was about to unfold.

Speculation ran rampant, but the consensus was that it had something to do with the Chunxiao Incident or collateral issues. Something major was in the works, and all cable and network stations cleared the air for an hour or so in advance of the president’s eight o’clock announcement to the nation. News commentators were buttonholing any government or congressional official available for scuttlebutt, but no one seemed to know anything. There was an air of excitement and anticipation; rarely had a news story been covered so thoroughly on such short notice.

There was a hushed silence as the president walked into the Cabinet Room to address his full cabinet. This was the first they had seen the president since his return from the hospital, and they simply didn’t know what to expect.

“My friends, thanks so much for being here tonight,” said Burkmeister, his voice unwavering. “I’m so sorry I’ve had to keep you in the dark as to the purpose of our meeting tonight, but I hope you will understand after I’ve had a chance to explain what has, what is, and what will soon be happening.” Burkmeister had never seen this bunch so quiet and struggled to find the right words, even though he had mentally rehearsed his talk several times before the meeting.

“Folks, I don’t know how to say this in a way that will cushion the shock, and so I’ll just be as direct and honest as I can: I have stage-four pancreatic cancer. It’s terminal, and I have only a few weeks, perhaps a couple of months at best, to live.”

They were horrified, speechless, and confused. Some gasped, others shook their heads, still others cried. The pall in the air was stifling, but Burkmeister knew he had to push on—particularly since he would have to give roughly the same message to over 320 million Americans and the rest of the world in less than an hour. He took a breath and continued.

“Under the terms of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, I will resign my presidency at 12:01 p.m. on Saturday, October fourteenth of this year. Vice President Clayton McCarty will be sworn in immediately after as your next president. I have been working with Clayton on this since Friday night, and we’ve made a number of decisions which I will share with you after my broadcast tonight. And if my health begins to fail sooner than that, I’ll move up the resignation date.”

This caused a stir, and Burkmeister could see they were already moving ahead to the next inevitable question:
How will this affect me?

“Candace Pierson will review our official position after my public announcement. You’ll be mobbed by the media following this meeting, and we’d like you to simply tell them ‘no comment.’ Clayton and I will be holding a joint news conference tomorrow morning at ten to answer their questions. The media kit we’ll give you includes answers to anticipated questions, details on the constitutional aspects of succession, a medical overview from Admiral Toomay on my condition—things like that.” The president paused for a moment to assess the mood of his cabinet and then continued.

“I have notified leaders of both houses of Congress, and I’ve personally talked to the British, Japanese, and Chinese leaders. Secretary of State Cartright is talking to our allies as I speak, and that’s pretty much the extent of those in the know.” He hoped Cartright could reach all parties prior to his speech, but at least the effort had been made. In the diplomatic world, form was often more important than substance.

“Both Clayton and I would like to ask all of you to stay on your jobs, do the things you have so ably been doing and support Clayton as he takes over the presidency in less than three weeks. He’ll need all the help he can get. Needless to say, I sincerely regret laying this burden on him and all of you, but it can’t be helped. Now, we have a few minutes before airtime, and I’d be glad to answer any questions that I can.”