Book 3 Chapter 43

            Troy changed over to a G5 at Morton. He was off for several weeks’ vacation at East Water Cay. Troy and his wife and his adult son with several children were staying in one of the big cottages. Troy has not taken a vacation in over two years it was time for him to have a break.

            Troy’s assistant Carl Crawford was filling in. Carl was going to get his feet wet in a big way while in a temporary position.

            ‘’Carl, send an e-mail to the EPA administrator that I want an extremely detailed report on the SWAT team incident at the John Moses farm on my desk Monday morning at 0800,’’ I said.

            ‘’Then I want a form drawn up and sent to the administrators of the following agencies; EPA, Social Security, Department of Agriculture, Department of Interior, the Internal Revenue Service, the Energy Department, the Department of Education, the Treasury Department and the ATF,’’ I said.

            ‘’Those agencies are to supply a list of all employees who have been issued any weapon or tactical gear. That list is to include the name and ID number of the employee, the make of the weapon, its model number and its serial number,’’ I said.

‘’I wanted the physical location where the weapon is stored and the name and ID number of the official authorizing the issuance of that weapon or equipment to that individual. Also collect where the ammunition is stored and the number of rounds in each agency’s possession,” I said.

            ‘’I want that information sent to you by 0900 Monday. Also require a receipt that the email was opened and stress that there will be consequences for failure to comply with the order,’’ I said.

            ‘’Yes Ma-am, I will take care of it within the hour, you will have a copy to approve before I send it,’’ he said.

            I walked the tunnel back to the house leaving Carl to his assignment. The house was coming alive. I turned on ZNN to see if they were running anything different now. It was the same film clip but different politicians and talking heads venting their imagined rage at my administration for out of control agencies and anyone else they could vent at – anything to get free TV time.

            I decided to make one more call as a double precaution. I called Matt Hovator, the director of the General Accounting Office. I had a devil of a time coming up with a private phone number for him. But I finally came up with a couple with some help from one of Carl’s aids. Mat had been in multiple meetings that I had in the White House.

            “Matt, this is BJ, President Jones, I need some information from the GAO and I need it first thing Monday morning. If no one is working in the GAO over the weekend, call whoever you need in. I want a list of all the agencies with the exception of the Department of Defense, FBI, CIA, and US Marshal’s service that bought weapons, ammo and tactical gear in the last five years.’’

‘’If possible, I also want information on the weapons, make model and serial numbers, where it was shipped, who ordered it. You know, all the particulars,’’ I said.

            ‘’Yes, this is in response to the Kentucky mess. I need this by 1000 Monday morning to formulate new policies and procedures,’’ I said.

            In reality, it was to double check if the agencies were going to be truthful. Some of them I had doubts about.

            There were demands that I make a statement and take immediate action – that was not going to happen this weekend. They would be talking a different tune Tuesday afternoon after I dropped a bomb on government agencies. It would take all day Monday for all the pieces to come together.

            I would have Carl deliver a note to the White House spokesperson to deliver a message to the news crew following me, that there would be a news conference Tuesday at 1000 to update the findings on the Kentucky fiasco.

            The number of Congressional hearings and investigations was quickly growing. Some were truly concerned and then there were those that wanted the media spotlight as long as they could milk it. Same old politics.

            JJ and RJ wanted to go back to Fort Smith to look for more brass shell casings. So did I for – different reasons – but that was going to wait until after lunch.

            This morning I was going to spend time with Takeo and Sara and then Vicky and Marcy. They were both just a month and a half from delivering. I wasn’t spending nearly as much time with them as I should have been.

That was going to change. I was coming home every weekend for the next six weeks to spend time with them and the newborns when they arrived. I was going to get them to spend more time with me at the White House.

            The kids were playing on the living room floor. It gave us time to look at the tax change. It took thirty minutes for the tax changes to be explained to me and to sign at all the appropriate places.

            After that JJ, RJ and I went to Fort Smith with a detachment of my security. Even though it was Saturday, there was training going on – a makeup day for a security team headed to Africa on Monday. Weather had delayed their arrival.

The boys were excited to be able to stand back and watch a hostage rescue. The Secret Service was not as happy, afraid that someone might have a live round instead of blanks.

After the rescue was over, the men went over to Training Room #2 to break down the segments of the rescue. Breaking all the rules, I and my group followed.

This was the second year for this group of JBG security to go through the hostage training. This was the more advanced module that the state department wanted for security teams going to that part of Africa.

I asked the men what they thought of the new updated training? Then I asked the trainers how the group did with this year’s module. After a discussion I recommended that if they had any suggestions, comments or any ideas for improvement, to get them to Vicky or Andy. I wished them good luck on their travel back to Africa.

Then I carried the boys out to the training area the men had just finished up at. There were plenty of shell casings for them to pick up if they wanted. The blanks for this training were different than the casings for the live firing range.

It was almost three when we walked into the house. Carl was waiting with a handful of notes for me to look at and make a decision on. He had sent me the form he was working on in an email that I approved to be sent to the administrators and directors earlier this morning.

One note was that all eight of the bodies had been recovered from the two B21 planes involved in the midair collision from the industrial park. There were no causalities in the industrial buildings. All the workers had left for the day.

I wondered how long it would take before the angry texts and emails would start arriving. They should have and had read it by now.

A couple hours later the responses started. I told my aids that I only wanted to be bothered if it were an emergency, with the exception of the Department of Defense guy who was monitoring the Nevada sub mess.

The Nevada was still making headway with her escorts towards Japan. It had at least two and a half days of travel at its current speed.

I spent a couple of hard hours in the gym with Jenny, Ching Lee and Lorrie. All the family came for supper a while later. It was a rare evening with family at home.

Sunday was more of the same; some of the agencies were still complaining about the weapons audit, a couple said they would not comply with the request. Another issue to be handled on Monday.

Sunday afternoon my mates and I talked for several hours while we were playing with the kids. I spent more time with them and Vicky and Marcy. I did the same Sunday evening and late into the night.

I ordered Marine One to be on the expanded HELO landing pad behind the office at 0700. The Secret Service was not happy with the old setup in the grass. It was now three times the size, concrete, painted with ground level lighting, and electronic wind sock.

The marsh land, marsh grass and bramble that bordered our property from the east side was now gone. We had tried for years to work with the county over the marsh. It was man-made – a dirt pit from when the road widened to support the heavy truck traffic carrying freight to the ports of Philadelphia, Wilmington and New York for the big war. After all the dirt that was needed was removed, it was left as a collection pond for the road drainage.

Over the years it had become over grown with brambles, grass and mosquitos. The mosquitos had tested positive for the West Nile virus in three of the last five years. The state health department’s solution to that was to dump gallons of insecticides in the pond to kill the mosquito larvae.

The Secret Service was afraid it would offer too much cover for snipers and nosey newsmen.

The grass and trees were gone and the ditch to the stream opened and deepened to keep it dry. Then it was graded so there would be no standing water. It was surrounded with a ten-foot-high chain link fence.

At 0730 I was stepping off Marine One onto the White House lawn. I waved to the screaming news group as I walked to the White House

There were already people waiting to see me. Connie and Kitty were both waiting for me with handfuls of notes and bundles of paper.

The coffee pot shut off as an Air Force officer put my portable office by the desk.

‘’The chef is sending up your breakfast sandwich in ten minutes,’’ Connie said as she placed a fresh mug of coffee on the cup warmer that was a new addition on my desk from Christmas.

General Ingram and the Chief of Naval Operations were the first. They had the copy of the Nevada’s logs that I requested last week. We went over the last ten days. The only unusual thing was that they were fighting electrical gremlins and had been for a few days.

That pretty much indicated why the sonars and sensors did not see the other sub, or at least that was what we suspected. Crew interviews would shed more light on the problems. The entire crew was to be removed and flown to Washington for interviews.

To piss off the Navy, an investigator from my White House team was going to sit in on those interviews and possibly chair the investigation. Then the Navy could do its own.

The Chief of Naval operations went over their orders, including the sealed folder in case of nuclear war. After a short conversation they left. The Nevada was docking in Japan tonight, the seas were cooperating a little better and its speed had increased.

The next was Matt Hovator from the GAO. His team had produced the information faster than expected. The opening page said it all. In the last 5 years, there had been nearly four hundred million spent by agencies – excluding the FBI, CIA and the Department of Homeland Security – that really did not need weapons and tactical gear.

It was broken down by agency and location where it was shipped and the approval manager. All those numbers and letters on all the government purchases actually did have a purpose after all.

The constitutional lawyers that I used were to be on a conference call at 1000. I wanted answers to some questions. The White House legal team would sit in.

Carl called Eric Roberson – Director of the Department of Homeland Security, Marty Coeburn – Director of the FBI, and Phil Fitzpatrick – Director of the US Marshal’s service. They were to be here for a 1100 meeting.

Kitty brought in a note that there were thirty Senators and Congressman waiting in the big meeting room, requesting an emergency meeting. As if I didn’t know what they were wanting. I guess they were unwilling to wait until tomorrow’s news conference.

I gave Kitty the report from the GAO, ’’Make me five copies ASAP,’’ I said, ’’I may need one for that meeting.’’

‘’Carl, see if Attorney General Dunne will come over right away,’’ I said.

I sent a note to the kitchen to take six dozen donuts and plenty of coffee to the big meeting room to pacify them for a few more minutes.

The meeting with the attorneys was going to run over the allotted hour. I sent Carl to tell them that as soon as I finished, I would be there to talk to them. While I was talking to the attorneys, I was highlighting sections of the report from the GAO.

Eric, Marty and Phil arrived just as I finished with the experts and my White House legal team. I was going to be treading on thin ice, gray areas and areas that were untried and untested. The 1100 meeting was going to be a humdinger.

‘’I need to talk with the congressional delegation for a few minutes. Go to the cafeteria and get yourself an early lunch on the White House nickel if you like, while you are waiting.”

I headed to the meeting room and the fire storm I knew was coming.

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Proof read by Bob W.