Strike Force

“Good morning,” White House Press Secretary Anthony Lewars said curtly as he stood before the members of the White House Press Corps in the newly refurbished press briefing room. Unlike many of the recent White House press secretaries who came from the media or public relations, Lewars, a tall, bald, broad-shouldered, mean-looking veteran combat officer, was a former Marine Aircraft Wing commander, and he ran the White House press offices as tightly as he did his combat air units. Although he wore a suit and not a uniform, he still looked every bit the hard-as-nails combat veteran he was. “The President is scheduled to meet with the delegation from the Association of South East Asian Nations in the Oval Office to discuss oil and trade policy, and will then travel to Wilmington, Delaware to address the American Bar Association convention luncheon. He’ll return to the White House sometime this afternoon and meet with several state political delegations to discuss campaign travel schedules. He’ll meet with the national security staff later on this afternoon for a detailed briefing on events in the Middle East. He remains in close contact with his national security staff at all times and receives constant updates.

“The President has been fully briefed on the incident in Qom, Iran, but most of the information the White House has received has been through unverified Middle East news sources,” Lewars went on brusquely. “The President reiterates that his main desire is peace, stability, and democracy in the entire region, and indeed the entire world, and the United States stands ready to assist any group that stands for the very same things.” He made a few brief remarks on several other matters, then closed his briefing folder and offered, “Questions.”

The questions came rapid-fire, but Lewars was accustomed to dealing with lots of panicked, babbling individuals, and he waded through the Q&A with a distracted, almost detached indifference — most times he did not even look at the questioner, but shuffled his notes without expression or gestures. It was a lot like watching grass grow. “Is there a coup taking place in Iran, General?” one reporter blurted out. “Are we going to war?”

“No one’s going to war. We don’t know the details yet. It could be Kurdish rebels, anti-clerical insurgents, or a Sunni Muslim retaliation against the Shi’ite dominated theocratic regime.”

“Does the President want to see the Ahmadad government or the clerical regime fall?”

“I refer you to my earlier remarks,” Lewars said, almost spitting the words. Then, deciding he’d better tell them rather than leaving it up to their powers of recall: “The President wants peace, stability, and democracy. The President doesn’t agree with or endorse the Iranian way of picking candidates for office — basically the Ayatollah Shīrāzemi picks the candidate he wants, and the Council of Guardians rubber-stamps their approval and pulls any other candidates off the ballot. The people have no say. That said, the fact remains that Ahmadad was put in power peacefully and constitutionally, as flawed as their electoral process is.

“As far as a military uprising, rebellion, or whatever might transpire in Iran: again, any such action usually doesn’t contribute to peace, stability, and democracy, and so President Martindale views such violent actions as undesirable for the people of Iran, their neighbors, customers, and other interested persons and powers in the Middle East. The President believes that military coups take power away from the people by force of arms.”

“But if the clerical regime is deposed, even if by force of arms, and is replaced by a regime friendlier to the West…?”

“That’s speculation. We don’t have the facts.” He left that reporter a dark scowl and glanced at another, then resumed taking notes, head down, not making eye contact with anyone. “You. Question.”

“There are reports that the United States sent a special operations team inside Iran to assist the rebellion. Comment, General?”

“That report did not originate within this administration, so I can’t comment on it.”

“So you’re denying it?”

“I said I can’t comment on it.”

“General, ‘no comment’ is not an answer,” the reporter persisted. “I understand if you don’t want to confirm or deny it, but you must have some comment. Either you don’t know or you refuse to say, but you can’t just…”

“Excuse me…Mr. Richland of the Sun, correct?” Lewars said, looking up from his notes and impaling the reporter with a deadly asphalt-melting stare. “Let me make myself crystal clear to you: I don’t have the time or the inclination to comment on rumors, innuendo, guesses, or anything but the Administration’s official statements. If you want to fantasize, go back to writing about endangered snail darters and Alaskan caribou.” He waited for the reporter to say something in return, but the reporter tried to appear busy writing notes and didn’t return Lewars’s glare, so he turned to the other side of the press briefing room. “You. Go.”