I see fifteen members of the executive detail on the way to the ranch front. I know there must be another twenty to thirty I cannot see in less visible positions.

The firepower and garments have been significantly increased over what was normal just eight months ago. These agents are a much more loyal group - all tenured professionals. Of course, working ED (executive detail) in Crawford, for Bush, is a world away from LBJ's ranch detail, who were subjected to his favorite humiliation - LBJ, emerging in the middle of the night, to urinate on an agents leg, all while drunk and naked.
When they would protest he would mutter something about "executive privilege"

A dozen or so counter-assault-team vehicles, sedans and limos are corraled next to a rickety picket fence. An SUV and Cadillac man's garage wishlist.

Inside Powell is sitting across from Cheney in matching easychairs. Karl Rove is in the kitchen making himself a sandwich. Karen Hughes is sitting on a leather couch near an old stone fireplace, a copy of Monica Crowley's "Nixon Off the Record" rests in one hand at her side. Bush sits in a rocking chair in jeans and a plaid shirt, his boots rest in front of the fire, and he is gazing as if in a trance to the hypnotic dance of the flames.

I sit next to Karen, whose perfume is a scent I don't quite recognize, but reminds me of gardenias.

Bush begins to speak.

"We're at a crucial point. The left has gathered to pull apart my support base - the elitists are descending and Saddam is sitting like the cheshire cat - grinning diabolically."

Hughes speaks up - "I'm not one to quote Nixon much, but this passage of Nixon's seems appropriate now."

"Don't go half assed They'll criticize you for one plane just as much as ten - so send enough to get the job done."

"George, we can't let up now. The momentum is there. We let Sharon steal our momentum - and we sit around waiting for him or for Arafat - and we are lost.

We have to keep the ball in play, control the game."

Powell, jumps in.

"He knew exactly what he was doing (Sharon) and had this whole thing set up to give us nothing - and in my opinion pull you down in the process. The Israeli's get a kick out of seeing US President's jump through hoops to keep them under control. "

Bush offers up some choice epithets not fit for public consumption.

Karl sits down with his sandwich and appears to be ready to offer some advice between bites.

"I say, let's go forward against Iraq and Saddam - go with an overwhelming force and just take him outta there. The media will forget all about Israel, Sharon and the Palestinians - they don't deserve the world's attention, and we shouldn't give it to them. If Sharon hopes to provoke some more suicide bombers to get attention and slow us down - we just have to make an even bigger headline."

Cheney who has sat silently, his legs crossed and his hands folded casually, resting on one leg, enters th conversation. The room seems to quiet down a notch as if in greater anticipation and consideration of his always well chosen words.

"Karl has a point - but like Nixon said, Don't go half-assed. We need to make sure we can get Saddam - do so with minimum casualties and shift the balance of power to the least of all evils. My question is this...are we able to do that now?"

Bush turns and looks at me, and I feel my stomach churn a bit.

Bush speaks, "The Joint Chiefs are all p---ed at me for cutting their manpower and shifting to a technology driven military. Every time Don approaches them about Iraq they manage to tell us what we can't do - and I am sick and tired of hearing excuses and demands for the reinstatement of pork barrel military spending. Don said he thinks they don't mind if some missions fail - so they can say a manpower shortage - and my military budget allotments are to blame.



That's why I am inclined to use our own people as much as possible - and let the Joint Chiefs clean up after the initial job of getting Saddam out of the way is done."

Karen turns and looks at me as if this is my cue to speak now.

"Getting Saddam isn't a cake walk, but if we are going to do this without military bureaucracy or regulations, we can move much faster when we have intelligence and confirmation of a location. We have him pinned down to a revolving set of -- locations, and when data confirms him holed up in one for the night - we can send several teams in - and hit several, or all, at once.

His security is extensive, not nearly as well trained as our people, but what it lacks in finesse and training - it makes up in sheer quantity. Saddam sleeps with nearly a whole regiment of soldiers nearby, wherever he resides.

Conventional wisdom says a heavy assault would give him time to slip away into the labyrinth of tunnels which exist underneath his mansions - but ---------(deleted 2 minutes of transcript)

"That just might work - but if it doesn't we have to be able to disavow the whole thing." Cheney adds - ever the pragmatist.

Laura comes in - as if on cue, and offers non-alcoholic drinks to the assembled.

I take a Diet Coke, which I prefer over the draft root beer and other sugar drinks, and walk out with the others into the back yard and under a big, beautiful and cloudless Texas sky. A telescope, sitting in one corner of the patio, impresses me - and I wonder if the President or his children are the primary users.

Bush sees me staring at it, and offers:

"I bet you didn't think I knew my Ursa Major from the Minor, or what magnitude stars comprise the Pleiades, did you?"

"You're right... I didn't, I just couldn't guess if it was Laura or one of your daughters who was into astronomy." I say with my best disarming smile. I see a very rare opportunity here and I leap at it.

"While were on that topic - what do you think about a manned mission to mars during your second term? It would be a great vision thing - and give the history books something else to record other than military victories and the war on terror."

Bush looks at me and hears the serious tone in my voice. He says matter of factly - "It means a lot to you doesn't it? I tell you what...you give me Saddam and I will give you Mars."

"It's a deal."

I shake his hand and look him in the eye - and although it may have been just a reflection of the moon - I suddenly see in his eyes the reflection of footprints on the martian regolith.
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