The sun has fallen beneath the rose-colored skies and warm winds are building up on the desert blowing through sagebrush, whose long shadows have now disappeared. I stand on the still warm tarmac and watch the heat distortions make an early delivery JSF in the distance look like its melting. Nearby a less costly and yet more regal Bombardier Learjet 60 awaits my boarding.

The light cobalt blue and wood interior is striking, I pass the first row of seats to where my friend Colin is sitting behind an unfolded desk. He gets up and we shake hands.

"--, thank you for inviting me out this way."

"Thank you for accepting. I know you still have a lot on your plate." I look in his eyes and he looks almost as tired as he did in the early days of the war. He sits back down and looks up.

"I hope you don't mind meeting up here like this, but technically, I no longer have clearance for Shamballa and I don't need more grief."

"It's no problem at all. I love to get up here, stretch my legs, and watch the ghosts of the desert drift by whenever I can."

"you always make it sound so picturesque. I'm tempted to pick up some land out here for a winter place." He looks out the window and pauses for a moment. He's remembering something. Something less pleasant. "But you didn't just want me to call to sell me a piece of forlorn real estate, now did you?" He motions me to a seat which faces his own.

"You're right. Can we talk?" I motion to the cockpit.

"Oh the cockpit door is completely soundproofed. And my pilots care more about the engines and the air currents and me than they do about politics. It makes them far easier to deal with and far more trustworthy to boot."

"Ok. I have a few questions and I've never been able to get an answer from the WH after my last visit with George. I thought that since you are no longer SOS I might finally get some straight answers."

"Fire away."

"Why were no WMD ever revealed even after we acquired 3 tons of biologicals? Why have my teams had to bite down on a board everytime they read or watch the news for the past year? Why was the discovery made ATS EO within 36 hours of the weapons procurement? And who authorized such classification? Is George behind it? Cheney? Don? What the hell happened?"

"Ha! Is that it! You want to know? You really want to know?"

"Damn straight! None of it has made any sense."

"Ok. Here's the deal. After you handed in your after-action report a tele-conference was set up by George, Condi, Don & Dick. I wasn't invited to listen in on that call and apparently neither were you."

"So how did you hear about the call?"

"Sources. Now don't interrupt...listen. I hear about the call 12 hours after it occurred. No one mentions it. Days pass. I wonder what's up? Am I going to be discharged? This matter clearly warranted my inclusion, especially after I stuck my neck out to appease the countless war critics, not to mention Jacque and Gerhardt. So I find out from "sources" that these procured biologicals are not going to be revealed to the public--not now, not ever. You can imagine my consternation? I knew immediately..I had been set up. Completely. I was the fall guy. Get Colin to do it and then let him fall on his sword. 2008? Gotcha! That's what happened. George let them screw me...all because Rove is going to be working for someone else in 2008--and that someone doesn't want to have to deal with me."

"Okay, let me get this straight. The discovery of 3 tons of biologicals was swept under the rug because of politics? Because someone didn't want to see you win the primary in New Hampshire several years from now? What about Georges re-election. Announcing WMD would've given him another 10-15 point spread over Kerry! It would have made his re-election a walk in the park!"

"Apparently Rove didn't feel they needed it. They were willing to risk George not pulling it off just to screw me."

"Goddamn Colin! No wonder you resigned. Oh, how I wish I knew this earlier! I have been going around and around with this and could find absolutely no logical explanation ever since my last meeting with W when he was already acting funny and hinted at the fact that he was not planning to release the discovery. Oh...and Condi...how could she do this to you? It's not like her at all. She must've protested it?"

"Obviously she didn't protest too loud. And look at where she is now."

"You're right. Oh Colin, man...you should've told me sooner! I might've been able to do something. I could've fixed this."

"How? Jeopardize your own career? Leak something to the Times? What could you have done?"

"I don't know. We could've staged another discovery. Made this one more public."

"You saw how everything discovered and released locally in Iraq was being refuted. Everything. The media wasn't following through on anything and were only too happy to print retractions. It wouldn't have made a difference. Somewhere along the way the PR boys would say that the discovery was 'mistaken', 'reported before confirmation' or somesuch BS and you'd still have to bite your tongue. Not only that but they would be gunning for you too. There was nothing you could do. Nothing I could do. Resignation was my only option. I fell on my sword and took the hit to my credibility. And I'm afraid none of your men will ever get the satisfaction of telling the truth about the WMD. It's going to be another damn Roswell, living as unsubstantiated rumor forever"

"Just like the ghosts of the desert."

"Yes, just like the ghosts of the desert."

"I'm going to do a lot of thinking. Thank you Colin. You're a damn good man and I'm proud to have you as a fellow citizen. If only they knew. You'd be President in a heartbeat."

"You think I don't know this?" He smiles and laughs. It's good to hear him laugh again.

"We got to get you out of here before the next satellite crossover in ten minutes." I get up and he gets up as well I shake his hand again.

"America is a safer place because of people like you and your men. Tell them 'thanks'-- off the record from the former SOS."

"And America is safer thanks to you...never forget that. The men will be mighty glad to hear it too. Take care Colin."

I salute and he returns the salute. I walk down the ramp and clear the runway. I click a tiny button and speak into my cufflink, "Clear Balding Eagle for departure."

I watch as the plane takes to the now deep purple sky. My mind is ablaze with activity and piecing the last year's events into place. I watch the landing lights and the runway disappear into the desert.

The winds are howling through the clefts of distant unseen rocks and I hear their haunting tune as I slowly descend into Shamballa...

...another ghost of the desert.