Milwaukee Deep

Crane sat quietly behind the President’s desk in the Oval Office writing the speech that William Stoker would deliver to the nation in less than two days. As he wrote the words, ‘darkest day in our nation’s proud history’ he was interrupted by the President himself entering the room.

“Bill, I was just thinking of you. Where have you been?”

The President stood on the opposite side of his desk staring down at Crane.

“Is something the matter?”

“When were you planning to tell me?” Stoker replied, his tone sharp.

Crane put down his pen and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk.

“Who told you?”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I now know.”

“And why is that, Bill?”

Stoker breathed in, readying himself for a fight.

“Because now I can stop it from happening.”

Crane calmly leaned back into the leather chair.

“And what makes you think that you can do that?”

“Look this can’t happen. Harding has eliminated the risk, there’s no reason to continue your plan,” the President pleaded, “I want you to call it off.”

“Call it off?”

Crane stood up - both hands firmly on the desk.

Stoker stood firm.

“When did it become practice for you to question me, Bill?” he snapped

“When millions of American lives are at risk!”

“You don’t get it do you? I guess that’s what separates great leaders from ordinary men”

“I could understand before with Burton on the run,” Stoker argued, “Although the idea of destroying New York was unthinkable and unbearable to imagine, it made sense to implement your plan for the greater good. Destroying New York, as awful as it was, was to ensure this planet’s continued existence, but this is just madness!”

Crane clenched his teeth.

“You’re walking a very tight rope right now, Bill”

“I’m sorry, but my mind cannot grasp the notion of murdering our fellow citizens for no benefit whatsoever.”

“No benefit? See there you go, Bill, once again you show how narrow minded you really are. We’re losing the war on terror. Iraq, Afghanistan - they’re a mess. On top of that, now we’re faced with threats from Iran and their allies. Do you know what that means, Bill? It means that soon enough we’ll fall to their terror and this nation, our way of life, will crumble around us.”

“Sir, if you destroy New York, then our way of life would have already crumbled.”

“We can rebuild a city, yes the pain will be hard to bear for some time, but with our enemies destroyed once and for all, then this nation will prosper from then on.”

“You’re talking about World War Three?”

“To put it simply, yes. Remember after 9/11, Bill? This country was baying for blood. We went into Afghanistan without condemnation and then even when we invaded Iraq; it was all still justified because of the fear that was instilled in every American’s mind. If New York is destroyed by a nuclear weapon, what fear will be created then? Who will stop us from doing everything and anything we want? When New York is destroyed by nuclear force then we too can use the same on our enemies. They’ll be wiped off the face of the earth forever and the benefits that come with that will flow on right through to us.”

“What possible benefit will rise from murdering hundreds of millions of people?”

“History will judge me differently, Bill. I’ll put an end to terrorism with one fell swoop. I’ll nuke every Islamic city from here to the Sudan and the world will do nothing because they struck first - because the people will want it – for God’s sakes, they’ll demand it!”

“You really believe this don’t you?”

Stoker stopped for a moment and took a deep breath

“Well I’m not going to stand for it. I’m the President of the United States and I will not do this – I will not let you kill millions of my citizens so you can play God!”

Crane stared back hard at Stoker.

“Just remember who created you, Bill. They’re not even your citizens, they didn’t even vote for you – I arranged that remember!”

Stoker was calm. He knew exactly what would come from this.

“I know that, but this I cannot do.”

Stoker moved to the phone that sat on the corner of the desk.

Crane watched as the President pressed down on the intercom button.

“Harry, come in here please,” said the President, looking up at Crane.

Harry Bell, the President’s aide, opened the door and walked into the Oval Office followed by two secret service agents.

“Harry, escort Mr Crane here to the Situation Room and keep him there until further notice.”

Crane smirked.

“Bill, you’re so naïve. Mr Bell here is certainly your aide, but who do you think put him in that position? Harry, escort the President to his bedroom and make sure he does not leave that room until I give the okay.”

“Yes, Sir, Mr Crane,” replied Bell.

Stoker turned to his aide.

Bell looked away.

Stoker turned back to Crane.

“Do you really think that you can hide the President of the United States? The American public will demand that I appear.”

Crane stared back at Stoker.

“Do yourself a favour, Bill, keep quiet on the way to your bedroom; we wouldn’t want anything to happen to young Joel now would we.”

“You leave my son out of this.”

“Well that will be up to you, won’t it, Bill…just remember, how you handle yourself over the next few days will determine many things.”

“Like what?” Stoker asked.

“Like whether I put this mishap today down to sheer emotion, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or whether this country mourns another dead President.”