Strike Force

“I think it was a dangerous and foolish stunt, General,” National Security Adviser Sparks said hotly. “You exposed yourself to unnecessary danger just for a thrill ride.”

“Sir, men and women from the ‘Lake’ expose themselves to the same dangers every day,” Patrick said. “I wouldn’t characterize it as ‘unnecessary.’”

“It is if a middle-aged White House staffer does it,” Sparks said.

“May I suggest we get back to the subject at hand, gents?” Maureen Hershel interjected. She had to stifle a smile at Patrick’s expense at the “middle-aged White House staffer” comment. “Congress is bugging the White House for a recommendation the President will support for the new long-range strike force. If we don’t recommend something soon, we’ll risk losing part of the appropriation.”

“I take it,” the President said, “that we have no consensus here on which direction we should proceed?” His comment was met by uncomfortable silence, so he rose, poured himself another cup of coffee, and sat down. “All right, let’s talk about the Black Stallion track once again.” After he had settled into his chair at the head of the informal meeting area, he asked, “So, Patrick, tell me what it was like to go into space.”

“In a word, sir — incredible,” Patrick replied with a smile. “I still can’t believe what we did this morning: one orbit around the Earth and landing at an air base all the way across the country in about two hours.”

“And we can fuel up the Stud and do it again, right now,” Boomer added excitedly. “Patuxent River or Andrews Air Force Base both has everything we need to blast off again.”

“Could I fly in it?” the President asked. Boomer chuckled. “What’s so funny, Captain? Don’t think I can handle it?”

“No…no, sir, it’s not that,” Boomer said, the smile disappearing from his face as he realized he might have unwittingly offended the President of the United States of America. “General McLanahan said you’d want to fly in it.”

“He’s right — he knows me too well,” the President said. “The general and I go way back — I knew him when he was a young, cocky, know-it-all captain like yourself. So what sort of training would I need to fly your spaceplane, Captain?”

“Training? No training, sir,” Boomer responded. “You look like you’re in good shape — I think you’d do fine. Let’s go. We’ll gas up the Stud, hop in, and in three hours we’ll be on the beach in Australia.”

“Fly right now? No one can get ready to fly into space that fast!” Sparks said perturbedly. “NASA astronauts train for years to get to fly into space!”

“That’s NASA’s way of doing things, sir,” Boomer said. “In the Stud, passengers are just passengers. We’re not interested in turning anyone into Buzz Aldrin or Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise—we just want to make sure you don’t flip the wrong switch at the wrong time. Let’s go.”

“The crewmembers spend considerably more time training, sir,” Patrick quickly pointed out, “but Captain Noble is perfectly correct: we don’t require anything from passengers except to be in good health — if you suffered some sort of injury or difficulty you’d have to hang on without any possibility of assistance for an hour or two, possibly longer, since the front-seat crewmember can’t get to you.” It was obvious that President Martindale’s head was churning — he wore a mischievous grin, as if running through his datebook and trying to figure out if he could spare the time. Patrick was sure he was going to agree. “Sir?” he asked. “Would you like to go for it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, General,” Sparks said. “The President is certainly not going to…”

“Carl, call Bethesda,” the President said to his chief of staff. “Ask the doc to come see me.”

“Mr. President!” Vice President Hershel exclaimed. “Are you really going to do it?”

“Why the hell not?” Martindale asked. “I was given a clean bill of health from the doc just a couple months ago, and that was the straight story, not just a blurb for the media. I’ve piloted a B-1 Lancer and a B-2 stealth bomber, landed a Hornet onto an aircraft carrier, drove a tank, and been in a submarine down to twelve hundred feet — all while I’ve been president or vice president. And no offense, McLanahan, but if you can do it, I can do it.”

“No doubt, sir. No offense taken.”

“We have meetings all day, Mr. President, and then we have the reception for the Turkish prime minister tonight, and that is a function we can’t postpone,” the President’s chief of staff Carl Minden said. “If you’re really thinking about doing this, let me discuss it confidentially with the White House counsel, the Cabinet, and the Leadership. They all have a stake in what happens if you didn’t come back.”

“He’ll come back — faster than you can imagine,” Boomer interjected.

“Riding in the spaceplane would be seen as an endorsement of the program,” Sparks said, “and I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”