Chapter 14

While distracting myself bemoaning the restrictions on my life as Vice President and how to sneak Barbara Fiorino under the radar, the Judge got back to me with good news. "Mr. Vice President, I reached out to the people we discussed at out earlier meeting and found them affirmatively disposed to meeting with you to determine the exact nature of your project, and their appropriateness to participate in it.

"If I may be so crude, Sir, I would tell you that Mr. Maxwell and Ms. Jamieson are extremely open to the idea, as long as they do not have to come back under the federal umbrella. For good reason, they are reluctant to chain themselves to the bureaucracy again, Sir."

He was officious as usual, but properly respectful and willing to try and please me. I wondered if he thought he was indulging a hyperactive child to keep him out of the hair of the adults.

"I'm glad to hear of their response, Judge, and I look forward to meeting with them at the earliest opportunity. I will trust you to set it up. Please contact Jason for dates and times. If it is inconvenient for them to come to D.C., I am happy to travel to Branson, Judge. In fact, that would keep it all a little further under the radar, in my opinion." We talked a little more, and he promised to set it up, one way or the other, and get back to Jason soon.

I much preferred to meet my family on their (our) home turf. They'd be less off balance, and though Colleen would absolutely buy in immediately – at least I thought she would – everyone else might have a much harder time. If we worked things out to keep any hint of scandal from derailing Charles' presidency, then Branson would become my go-to, second home.

Oh how I hoped...

Early on a Monday morning, Charles summoned me to the White House, and I was shocked to see the levels upon levels of security that surrounded him. My detail had been beefed up, but nothing like what was swirling around the President. Steve caught my eye and nodded in understanding. He knew I didn't have any idea how things had tightened up at sixteen hundred.

It was a protocol breech for the VP to arrive at the White House by chopper, but I was informed that national security pressures took precedence over historical norms. When Marine Two landed, I was hustled into the White House, but not before I noticed that no press were attending my arrival. That was also unusual.

Once inside, I was led to an elevator that descended very quickly, and for a long time, which meant we were going far underground. When the doors opened, the president's security chief and the Undersecretary of Defense greeted me.

That's when the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and a shiver ran down my spine.

We were led to a very large operations center, that was chock full of huge video boards and rows of computers. It was staffed by military personnel, and there was a hum of activity that belied the rather mundane activity above.

The President was in his private suite, overlooking the swarm of activity from above and behind everyone. When he stood up to greet me, a light went off out in the center. I connected the dots and realized that his seat must notify the general overseeing the center that the President was not in the room.

Charles looked tired and worried. Neither one of those made me feel particularly calm, and I waited for the bad news.

"John. Thanks for coming." He offered his hand and used his grip to turn me towards the action center. "This is the underground link to most of our military and civilian agencies that gather and distribute information, communicate across agency lines, and keep our military forces on the same page. There is another one underneath the Pentagon, but this is where I run things.

"Just about all of NATO is panicking. The price of oil has dropped to the point that Russia is in serious danger of default, which could cause another collapse, and see the entire Russian federal government disappear like happened to Gorby. That's all pretty much good. The bad part is that Putin isn't Gorby, and it looks like he may be about to launch an invasion through the Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, and Bulgaria to "take back" what he claims is historic Russian territory, and strip them of everything to keep this economy afloat. That would give him lots of natural resources and some monetary breathing room while he figures out how to hold his government together. Basically he wants to march through much of Europe to get to the Mediterranean Sea and control enough real estate to keep the ship afloat for a little longer.

"Our treaties are such that we have to respond, and the only response that makes sense is one that hurts enough and costs enough to keep him inside his own borders, while not triggering a nuclear reaction. We're not entirely sure how tightly wrapped he is, especially with all the shirtless photo sessions, tiger hunts, and other seriously egotistical behavior of his."

Charles was deeply disturbed at the unfolding drama and I had an idea.

"Charles, don't laugh at me till I'm finished, but what if we took away the reason to march to Greece and hurt him, but not so bad he feels like he has to nuke us to save himself?"

That got his attention, and he settled back in his special chair to hear me out.

"Putin wants all this," I said, indicating the scenarios, drawn out on the table top. "The end game seems to be to capture enough territory to provide sufficient cash, gold, jewels, stable food supply, and other resources to keep him in business until oil recovers. So what if we sink a bunch of his Navy and strategic shipping vessels? Sink so many that the cost is more than the potential gain, and we teach him a lesson, along with giving him a black eye to remember us by.

"If you wait until his troops control the territory, it makes it that much harder to get him moved back across his border, while he brashly violates sovereign nations and flaunts our existing treaties. Have our stealth aircraft destroy his oil tankers, cargo haulers, and enough of his military fleet, and he loses any advantage as far as controlling shipping access to the Mediterranean and will be spending billions for no good reason, while he's strapped for cash to begin with. It is a much more palatable strike than hitting him head on and having to live with the consequences. We don't need, or want a ground war right now. That would devastate our shaky recovery, even more than it was in the last ten years.