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The president nodded.
“He tried to call me at the White House. Natalie’s taking calls like that. He asked her if she was familiar with a Gray Fox operation under way. She was not and said so. Whereupon Beiderman told her he had General Withers in his office and Withers said he knew there was one, with some connection to a Moroccan airfield.”
“Oh, shit!”
“Natalie and the secretary of defense are always supposed to be kept in the loop about a Gray Fox operation.”
“And I didn’t tell either of them,” Hall said.
“A simple oversight, Matt? Or on purpose?”
“I just didn’t do it, Mr. President,” Hall said. “I suppose subconsciously I didn’t want Beiderman to . . . I don’t know. And I guess I didn’t tell Natalie—didn’t want to tell Natalie because I didn’t want to hear her clear arguments that running a Gray Fox was ill advised.”
“The result of which is that I now have Natalie and Beiderman with severely ruffled feathers. Justifiably ruffled feathers, Matt, and I will have to atone for that.”
“With all respect, sir, you’re wrong,” Hall said. He stood up. “Natalie and Beiderman know we’re old friends. They will understand why you brought me out here to explain why I have to go. They will have no reason to be angry with you. I screwed this up and I’ll take the rap.”
The president met his eyes but didn’t say anything.
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. President, I’ll go find a typewriter and prepare my resignation. With your permission, sir, I think that it would be best if I’m gone by the time Secretary Beiderman gets here.”
After a long moment, the president said, softly, “I’m really sorry, old pal.”
“Not half as sorry as I am, Mr. President,” Hall said.
He was halfway across the room when the light on the telephone flashed.
The president picked it up and said, “Hello?—
“Who is this? Who’s calling?—
“This is the president, General Naylor. I picked up Secretary Hall’s line. He’s not here at the moment. May I give him a message?”
Hall stopped and asked with his eyes if he should, or perhaps could, stay.
The president signaled him to come back and sit down.
“Well, let’s have it, please, General Naylor.”
Thirty seconds later, the president said, “General, you probably won’t understand this but this is one of those times when bad news is also good news. Please relay my deepest appreciation and admiration to General McNab and all his men—
“Oh, here’s Secretary Hall, General. Perhaps you’d like to tell him what you just told me?”
He handed the telephone to Hall.
In the phone booth in Tampa, General Naylor faintly heard the president of the United States say, “Jesus Christ, Matt, talk about getting saved by the fucking bell!”
XIII
[ONE]
Camp David Catoctin Mountains, Maryland 1730 9 June 2005
There was a discreet knock at the door of the president’s living room and then the door was slowly swung open. The president, who was sitting slumped back in a pillow-upholstered armchair across a low table from Secretary of Homeland Security Hall—who was talking on the telephone —waved Secretary of Defense Frederick K. Beiderman into the room and then onto a couch facing the table.
The president raised an index finger in a signal that could mean “Wait” or “Quiet while Hall’s on the phone.”
Beiderman sat down, more than a little tensely, on the edge of the couch.
