Protect And Defend

chapter 13
AIR FORCE ONE

The president's office on Air Force One was right next to the conference room, just a few steps away. The proximity left Rapp only a few seconds to ponder the commander in chief's character and why he had taken such a sudden interest in him. At forty-six Alexander ranked as one of the youngest men elected to the top office. He was easy to like, but Rapp had a deep-seated distrust of all politicians. Too often their party and their own political careers took a front seat to national security. Agencies like the CIA were a dumping ground for problems, regularly used as a pawn in the game played by the two parties. If something went right it was the politician who took credit, but if something bad happened they were quick to lay the blame at the feet of Langley. They weren't all that way, of course. Rapp knew of a handful of senators and congressmen who could be counted on. Men and women who knew what was at stake. Men and women who knew how to provide oversight and keep their mouths shut.

Rapp followed the president into his office. At six-two Alexander was an inch taller than Rapp. He was thin, maybe 190 pounds, with a full head of sandy brown hair. His hazel eyes had an alertness that stopped just short of being overly intense. Alexander walked straight across the room between his desk and credenza. He sat in a fixed, high-back leather chair identical to the one in the conference room. The chair could be swiveled and moved as well as locked into position for takeoffs and landings. An identical chair sat across from the desk up against the starboard side of the craft. Rapp eyed the long leather couch and decided it looked less confining. He plopped down, spread his arms out across the back and crossed his left leg over his right.

Alexander eyed a piece of paper on his desk. When he was done reading it, he tore it in half and fed it into a shredder. "You're probably wondering why I asked you to join me on the trip back to Washington."

"When presidents call on me, I assume I've done something to piss them off."

Alexander smiled, producing a set of elongated dimples. "I wouldn't know about that. My immediate predecessor holds you in very high regard."

Rapp nodded. There had been some rough patches, but for the most part he had gotten along very well with President Hayes. "Did he also tell you I can be a real pain in the ass?"

The smile stayed on Alexander's face. "He didn't have to. In that regard your reputation precedes you." Alexander pushed a button on the side of his chair and the back reclined. He spun the chair and put his feet up on the corner of his desk. "You are very good at what you do, Mitch. One of the last things President Hayes told me before leaving office was to use you wisely."

"Use?" Rapp repeated the word, vaguely amused that Alexander had chosen it.

"Maybe deploy is a better choice. Maybe cut loose is even better. The point is, I'm not foolish enough to think we live in a world where violence is never the answer. There are moments when force will have to be met with force."

Rapp liked what he was hearing. "I couldn't agree more."

"You have many talents, Mitch. What would you say is your greatest asset?"

"I'm the wrong guy to ask, sir."

"So we can add modesty to your long list of strengths. Well, I'm a politician, so I can't really say being humble is part of my job description. Having said that, though, I do think we have something in common."

Rapp raised one of his thick black eyebrows in a manner that said he was intrigued. Internally he wondered what attributes he could possibly share with a refined, calculating politician like Alexander.

"I read the report you prepared last year. The one that outlined how Iran would react if we took out their nuclear program."

Rapp nodded. He had written the report before Alexander had taken office. Due to the sensitivity of the subject matter, the distribution was very limited. Rapp was more than a little surprised that Alexander had both gotten his hands on a copy and that he had taken the time to read it.

"In light of recent events, are you still willing to stand by what you wrote?"

Rapp took a second to recall the specifics of the report. "Since we didn't actually bomb them, it's less clear-cut, but for the most part I think they will react the way I predicted."

"They'll use Hezbollah and its affiliates to launch a series of terrorist attacks and conduct kidnappings of Americans abroad."

"They'll hit Israel first, and then they'll come after us."

"You're sure?"

"Ninety-nine percent. It's not in their character to do nothing."

The president thought about Rapp's comment and then asked, "So you think Israel was behind this?"

"I've known Ben Freidman for a long time, sir. I've worked very closely with the Mossad. They have a track record of conducting extremely audacious operations. Operations that we would never dream of."

"Why is that?"

"Survival. They're a lot closer to it than we are."

"It?" the president asked.

"The heart of radical Islam. They don't have enough real estate to sit back and wait, so short of all-out war, they do what they can to slow the crazy bastards down, like killing those three Iranian scientists last year."

"My greatest fear as president is losing a city," Alexander said in heavy voice. "I know they're out there...these fanatical jihadists. It's what keeps me up at night. Knowing that they are recruiting...training...planning...looking for any opening to strike. That they would love nothing more than to level an entire city, every man, woman, and child."

"You got that right, sir."

Alexander's face showed his frustration. "There are too many people in my party who think that violence is never the answer. It's a very enlightened and alluring argument when made in a civil society that has a relatively efficient justice system. Even more so when unchallenged in the lecture halls of academia, but in the real world," Alexander shook his head, "it's a bunch of bullshit."

"You'll get no argument from me, sir."

"I didn't think so. Back to the attribute that we share...it's called vision. Having a sense of how things will play out when certain things are set in motion. I recognized it in your report. I think you understand the mind-set of the Iranian leadership better than anyone I've encountered in my administration."

"Thank you, sir."

Alexander grew tentative for a moment and then lowered his voice. "President Hayes told me about your sausage factory analogy."

Rapp nodded. "The people want to eat it, they just don't want to see how it's made."

"Exactly. Which brings me to the reason why I have asked you to join me." Alexander took his feet down and leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk. "I am not going to sit here and play by Queensbury rules while the Iranians send their proxies off to wage a war of terror."

Rapp sat up a little straighter. "I'm listening."

"Did you know I played football at Alabama?"

"I seem to remember hearing something about that during the campaign."

"I was a backup quarterback. Got hurt during spring practice my junior year and never fully recovered. I was there for Bryant's last year and then Perkins. I learned two big lessons. The first, if you plan on running for governor of Georgia someday, you should attend the University of Georgia or Georgia Tech. Not Alabama. I saw a double-digit lead in the polls evaporate the week my alma mater faced off against the Bulldogs. I barely held on to win. Lesson two, blitz."

"Excuse me?"

"Blitz hard and blitz often, and remember, this is coming from an ex-quarterback. You have to have the athletes and the speed to do it, of course, but there is nothing that can screw an offense up quicker than a defense that knows how to blitz. Do you remember Alabama 's nineteen-ninety-two National Championship team?"

"No."

"Their offense was average, but their defense may have been the best that college football has ever seen. They put ten guys up on the line almost every play. They came so hard, and so fast, on every snap that opposing offenses were fighting to not lose yards. All they could do was try to react and adjust...find some magic way to slow these guys down. Offenses aren't good at that. They're supposed to make defenses react and adjust. Not the other way around."

"I think I'm with you," Rapp said.

"I want you to put together a game plan," Alexander said eagerly. "A list, really. The who's who of Hezbollah and anyone else that might give us a problem. It stays between the two of us and Irene. We review it, and then it gets shredded. I don't want any copies. I don't want any paper trails."

"I can do that."

"Good. If we get even the slightest whiff that Iran is going to use Hezbollah to do its dirty work I want ten guys up on the line of scrimmage. And I'm not just talking about targeted air strikes. I want you to be creative. I want you to put them back on their heels. I want you to make them fear for their lives."

Rapp smiled and slowly nodded. "I would be more than happy to do that, sir."