It was looking to be a sweltering day in the desert. The secret service agents changed into khakis on Air Force One and the team on the ground were more accustomed to the heat than their east-coast counterparts.

Karl Rove entered my office. Generally he and I talk very little and he was prepping me in the amateurish way some handler preps a crowd at a hollywood studio.

"The President doesn't want to hear about your pet projects - he doesn't have the time - especially since Hughes left - so don't bring anything up. This is a courtesy call - nothing more."

Karen Hughes departure has left a gaping hole in the discipline of the White House...and a tactful strategist, Karl aint.

He was stressed out - trying to assume a large part of what Karen Hughes burnt herself out doing.

"Karl you should've stopped her from reading Nixon - it probably only hastened her inevitable departure."

"Why? What the hell does Nixon have to do with her leaving?"

"Nixon was the ultimate fair-weather friend who was very petulant about being slighted, real or imagined. If you read him too much your views can be subtly shifted to looking for such slights in one's own political situation."

"Yeah right. Sell it to the headshrinkers in Arlington. She left cause of the fight she had with her hubby. Case closed."

It wasn't long before Bush entered, his manner tenser than I'd seen in weeks.
Karl probably thought too much data and demands were causing an overload - and he could be right. Karen kept a lot of the riff-raff from his desk and from 1600 altogether.

Of course when dealing with people that have the President's ear - one has to humor them or risk being subtly shut out of the inner circle. Karl's position is bulletproof and unassailable, Karen, Dick, Don and Colin are the only ones who take him to the carpet and I have watched how selectively they use the privilege.

Karl's problem is too many heavyweights with agendas are riding his coattails. Karl doesn't have the filtering capacity and focus Karen has.

So here I stand shaking hands again in a formal and awkward manner - feeling like a guest on the lineup at a whitehouse dinner.

I can see he's been prepped too. It's in his eyes.

It's these middlemen that keep messing up things. Stifling real exchanges of data and isolating a President from the information he may need to know. I think of Tsar Nicholas the II and his ministers - and what happened as a result - and can't hold my tongue.

"Karl prepped you too, I see!" I say with a smile and a laugh, hoping to break the artificial barrier which had been created.

"Ah you know Karl, he's still acclimating to the change of his job description - I hope he didn't ruffle any feathers?"

"Oh no, not at all. It's tough with Karen leaving - I know. I would volunteer for the job but would sooner face a terrorist encampment singlehandedly with a bb gun, than deal with the countless snakes slithering around DC."

"So whats the latest?"

"Oh, the usual. None of the branches wants to cooperate and the top brass are doing their damnedest to prove they are the most obsolete parts of our aging defense infrastructure."

"You and Colin sound like twins separated at birth."

"Could be. Keep me a coupla more years here in Shamballa and we'll have complexions to match our mindsets"

"It is hot here. Not sure why Dan (Quayle) moved here, it must be something like "fatal attraction" - or the desire to get to a place diametrically opposed to DC."

"How's your mom doing?"

"Oh she's doing fine...you know her, if shes at my dad's side - she's the happiest woman on earth. She worries for me and she gives me an earful several times a week."

"Sound's like my mother."

"You mean sounds like every mother!"

We both laugh at that one - and finally the barrier has been broke. Like a rubber band breaking the tension that held back free conversation is suddenly and abruptly gone.

"Your office is in an inhospitable desert out here, but my office is in a deadly jungle where snakes and creeping crawlies of all types try to blackmail or bribe you into accomodating their agenda. It makes it much tougher to focus, but I try.

Take Saddam ferinstance, our build up in the region is ready - but I have the weenies in the Senate hinting at their tepid support and what project needs to be done or what bill needs passage to bolster it. Like a chess game - if I move and its not checkmate - then the countermoves will be coming fast and furious.

That's why I'm out here - Don and Karl wanted me to get some firsthand assurance that our moves will be a quick checkmate."

"I'll my life I've wanted a sure thing."

"What's that from?"

"A teen film by the same title from the mid eighties."

"How does it end?"

"It all works out in the end. He doesn't get the girl he wanted - but gets one even better, even though he didn't know he wanted it."

"So are you saying we may not get Saddam, but get something better?"

"Perhaps. We are fighting on all fronts now. II has made things difficult and are actively sabotoging our moves. It's proving much tougher for us to deal with our allies than our enemies. But we'll get him - rest assured.

Here's what you came for...

We've got enough people on the ground now - and a reliable infrastructure for OTG realtime data of his whereabouts to move at anytime. And I now mean -right NOW."

"Good work. Damn good work. Assassination has always been out of the question. Don disagrees and says it would save lives, but Dick and Colin are dead set against it citing the horrible precedent it re-introduces to world affairs. We have to use troops, so as to quell the populace as well and guide a successor into position. What's the minimum number of troops we can use to secure Baghdad?"

"1600. Provided they are all special forces and that the RG are immobilized and suppressed by sufficient air power. We've got a lot of Iraqi's who will turn on the ground as soon as they see we are commited in a major manner. Power used wisely is a tool of immeasurable use in foreign affairs."

"Ok let's pretend I give the word in two hours...what happens?"

"Well we get a steady stream of realtime data on his whereabouts - and its coming in every medium: SW, Internet, Cell, LW, everything short of smoke signals - and I could probably get those too if necessary. Once we have a realtime feed we mobilize teams on the ground and take him with

-----two paragraphs deleted-----

"So then you just fly sorties round the clock and keep the populace in check for a couple of weeks."

"So it's that simple?"

"Yep. A child could do it. No Carter helicopter 'extraction failure' flashbacks are going to be played by MSNBC or Fox."

"Don't mention his name to me right now."

"Oh yes JC's trip to Havana hasn't played over well here at all either. Unfortunately, like Nixon, JC loves to feel needed since he left office. He and the Pope have stood by that murderer and smiled lamely. The Pope has an excuse - sort of - but what's JC's excuse?"

"He's Havana's Fonda."

(laughter)

"1600 from 1600 eh?"

"Yes - and perhaps at 1600."

"1600 at 1600. Well, keep the Batline clear for me and Sgt. Rumsfeld to get through..."

"Understood commissioner."

Laughter echoes in the office and Karl comes back in from a nearby vestibule with a volume from my shelves in his hands.

"Time to roll again." Bush says with a much less tense look than before he came in.

Karl approaches me with McCabe's Pictorial History of the World from 1884.

"Mind if I borrow this for a short time - give something to read on the flight back to DC?"

"Sure. No problem. It's old news though..."

"Yes, so old the spin has actually died on some of the weighty issues."

Bush adds as a parting shot:

"Nothing is that old...nothing."

I couldn't help but agree.

SDAI-Tech1