The Plan to Hide the Truth About 9-11 Begins
Even though it was the middle of the holiday season of 2003, the attendees all arrived at the scheduled meeting on time, if not a bit early.
Paul Begalia arrived first as planned and worked with the Secret Service to insure that the meeting room had no bugs or recording devices. Jamie Gorelick arrived next, nodded hello to Paul, went to the sideboard and rounded up a bottle of spring water and a donut as provided. She noticed a fly indulging in one of the donuts and shooed the beast off in disgust.
"Imagine flies this time of year," Gorelick said to Paul then assumed a seat at the conference table.
Sandy Berger, Hillary Clinton and Bill Clinton arrived together. Greetings were exchanged, coffee or water obtained, the fly again was shooed off a donut.
Ben Veniste came breathlessly into the room five minutes later, threw his briefcase into a chair, picked up a bottle of water from the sideboard and again shooed the pesky fly off of the donut.
"How in the hell are flies still around at Christmas?" Veniste asked distractedly.
Begalia cleared his throat once all attendees were settled.
"We've checked the room. There are no bugs. Everything is safe," Begalia explained. The fly landed on Hillary's donut.
"I want whoever prepared the refreshments fired," Hillary said acidly. "There's no excuse for this fly in the room at this time of year."
Begalia cleared his throat again after scribbling a note to himself to fire the refreshment staff as Hillary commanded.
"Okay, we're here to finalize The Plan," Begalia said, using his index and middle finger of each hand to create imaginary quotes in the air as he said the words "The Plan" solemnly.
"I still think you're biting off too much here," Bill Clinton began. "I think we should stick to," here Bill stopped and looked to the ceiling for the delicate phrasing required. "I think we should stick to cleaning up any aspersions that would be cast on the Democrat administration over the 9-11 attacks and leave the Republicans alone."
The rest of the attendees darted their eyes away from Bill in a nervous manner. Begalia almost let his sigh of exasperation become vocal.
Of course Bill Clinton wanted his legacy cleaned up as much as possible, Begalia thought as he too cast his eyes downward and scribbled spirals on the notepad as if taking notes. Sandy Berger nervously sipped some water as his eyes wandered everywhere but on Bill Clinton. Berger had spent eight years working as National Security Advisor for Clinton and had been charged with cleaning up many of the man's messes. Berger had no doubt he'd be called upon again to fall on some sword or another to protect the Clinton legacy. Only Berger knew he'd now be working to protect Hillary rather than Bill.
"Bill," Begalia began after taming his vocal sigh. Hillary shifted determinedly in her chair. She was the only one in the room who did not avert her eyes from Bill Clinton. She'd spent the better part of eight years covering for the man and she wasn't about to let this 9-11 commission uncover anything that would detract from her presidential race in 2008. God knows she suffered enough for that stupid man and they would somehow get through this 9-11 commission ordeal.
"I spoke to a bunch of people in the party," Begalia began, referring to the Democratic party bigwigs who made things happen. "I've got Reid, Boxer and Biden's enthusiastic endorsement and they're willing to have Ben here," Begalia pointed to Veniste to his right, "and Jamie, here," and then pointed to Gorelick to his left," on the commission."
Hillary took a long swig of bottled water and continued to glare at the husband she mostly despised.
"However," Paul said to Bill Clinton's wide smile that he would have friends on the 9-11 commission looking out for his legacy, "they're determined to have the commission put to good use casting as much blame on the Bush administration as possible."
All attendees were silent as Bill digested the firmness of Begalia's statement. Hillary sipped her bottled water nonchalantly. She was aware of the plan as Begalia, as was his habit, had already briefed her thoroughly.
"There's so much out there," Bill began to whine. "If we try to pin 9-11 on Bush, then he, Cheney and Rove are going to go after us with both barrels."
Bill Clinton's whining finally struck a raw nerve with Jamie Gorelick. Taking great effort not to slam her cup down in its saucer, Gorelick spoke. "What's out there, Bill? That we tried to protect the American people's rights by not allowing federal espionage agents to spy on them? AS required by our constitution? Why do you insist that this is a bad thing?"
Bill gave a self-conscious giggle and took a long drink of spring water. Gorelick had always been Hillary's contact and he hated messing with the woman.
"We should have went after Al-Queda and Bin-Laden with more force," Bill said softly. "I wanted to but Hillary kept over-riding me. At the time, hey," Bill said after another self-conscious laugh, "it seemed a good idea to keep the attacks on the Beirut marine barracks, even the USS Cole, low key and handled as a law enforcement matter. Now...," Bill Clinton's voice faded off as the attendees knew the rest of his lament would include regret that the attacks on 9-11 were likely a result of this policy. Which was Hillary's policy, Bill knew and resented. She never wanted him to deal with Al-Queda like the warrior president he knew he could be. All because of that silly thing with Monica and her complete distrust in his ability to lead.
"In exchange for an election year strategy of trying to spread the blame for 9-11 as much as possible the party big-wigs are willing to allow Gorelick and Veniste sit on the commission," Begalia inserted, hoping to avoid a confrontation between Hillary and Bill.
Begalia knew that Hillary was the leader, the disciplined one. He knew that she ran that Clinton administration for eight years. He knew that without Hillary Bill Clinton never would have been re-elected and he surely would never have survived that idiocy with Monica.
Hillary handled it correctly, burying all information about a mounting terrorist threat and dealing with it through back channels. Begalia sighed, this time vocally. She finally did allow Bill to launch missiles at Afghanistan but only after assurance from the few intelligence analysts they trusted that no one would be hurt.
Bill Clinton was such a fragile political liability at the time that the best way to deal with it all was to send Bill on grand trips across the planet, apologizing for America and using his best political tool, his smile and affable personality. Begalia was frustrated because he worked hard to bring this 9-11 commission together to an end of associating Bush with the 9-11 attacks while protecting the Clinton legacy. Begalia cast a glance at Bill and noted his face was ruddy and flushed in that manner he got when he felt under attack.
"It's not just about trying to defeat the incumbent, Bill," Hillary finally spoke, looking her husband directly in the eye and adapting her firm tone that Bill would know she meant business here. She'd only handled that pathetic man's political life since he was but a nothing in Arkansas. She'd spent years propping him up and covering his tracks when she knew full well she was the one with the brains and she was the one who made things happen. If America had been ready for a female President years ago the President of the United States from 1992 through 2000 would have been a Clinton all right, only with a first name of Hillary.
"I spent eight years covering your tracks and setting you straight," Hillary said to her estranged husband. "You never thought of anything but that thing between your legs and because of YOUR shortcomings I had to work around you."
Veniste and Gorelick pretended to be busy with the papers in front of them. Begalia looked out the window while Sandy Berger appeared occupied with something on the floor. While such rants from Hillary directed at the husband she despised were good gossip fodder, it was not appropriate for them to have their tongues hanging out with joy over these rare confrontations.
"There was no way YOU could have led any kind of campaign against Al-Queda, Bill, and you know it. We had that sanitized thing against Kosovo to give you an image of a warrior but a war against Al-Queda would have been very difficult given your reputation. AND," Hillary said loudly then paused. Begalia knew what was coming.
"If we had been attacked during our administration like happened on 9-11 it would have been a whole different story."
Hillary stopped to take a sip of the bottled water. Begalia nodded his head in agreement. He knew it was the truth. Bush had the trust and confidence of the American people only because the country had been attacked. Were it not for 9-11 Bush could have done little more against Al-Queda than Bill and Hillary had. It wasn't fair and Paul didn't see why his beloved Hillary should pay the price of a possible presidential bid because of her stupid husband's behavior.
"So, Ben, do I have your help?" Hillary said to Mr. Veniste.
Ben Veniste visibly thrust his chest out and Begalia almost chortled. Veniste was a shark lawyer famed for his placement on the Watergate commission. But he was a loyal Democrat and could be counted on to bring in the trial lawyers' votes. And money.
"Yes you do," Veniste said proudly as he fiddled with the cobalt blue handkerchief popping up handsomely out of his custom-made suit's breast pocket. "I've got my own law firm and quite a few others to help me out. We'll be able to aid in directing that investigation on to where it should go-directly at the Bush administration and off of you and Bill. Everyone understands that Bush had the advantage of having the country attacked whereas all we could do was fight the bogeymen."
"I've talked with Hillary and we both agree that it simply would not be fair for me to take the fall for this," Gorelick added. "I only put up that wall to keep the over-zealous intelligence agencies from bringing us every nit picking suspect and bringing even more attention to the first World Trade Center attack, the USS Cole and the other nuisance Al-Queda attacks for which we had no appropriate response. It's easy to call the country to war when it had been attacked on such a large scale as 9-11. We didn't have that advantage."
Sandy Berger shuffled papers self-consciously. For years he'd been urging Bill to launch a counter-attack against Al-Queda. While he'd been loyal to his boss, he also truly believed that through some special ops soldiers and a carefully planned infiltration they could have really put a hamper on that terrorist Bin-Laden and his Arab enablers. Always Hillary had put the kibosh on the notion. Her goal was to somehow survive her husband's horrid administration that she may someday run for the office that she felt was rightfully hers.
"Sandy, you know what you have to do?" Bill Clinton said to his National Security Advisor. Berger nodded, his eyes not meeting those of his former boss. He knew he would once again have to do the dirty work. He'd already scoped out and scouted the setup at the National Archives. He also knew what documents he'd have to get out of there to protect his former boss and his ambitious wife.
"What about this Able-Danger group?" Hillary said to Gorelick.
"We've got a plan, Hil," Gorelick responded confidentially. "They were a rogue group of army people who thought they knew better than the President," Gorelick continued, nodded at Hillary on the word President as by Gorelick Hillary had been the only one with good sense during the Clinton administration. "Ben and I have a plan on how to strike everything out about that Able-Danger group. We've got a couple of staff people that will work with us to keep anything from ever coming up about it."
"How about the State Department? Anything we should worry about there?"
Paul Begalia took his cue from the question posed by Hillary. "State's always been loyal," Paul said for the benefit of everyone in the room. "There's a couple of FOI requests out there but we've got folks at State willing to stall it off until after the 9-11 commission report."
"Good," Hillary said, slamming her notebook shut and capping her bottle of spring water. "Let the other Democrats on the commission handle the effort to cast the blame on the Bush administration. The man was President when the country was attacked and we can be grateful for that. If we'd been attacked when we were President," Hillary continued, clearly meaning for that "we" reference to mean both she and Bill Clinton, "we'd have a hell of a time covering all this up."
Hillary began gathering her belongings and on cue all of the other attendees did the same. Bill Clinton just sat with a scowl on his face and that same ruddy flush that always decorated his face during meetings with his wife.
"Stop pouting, Bill," Hillary told her husband with a smile. "We're lucky we have Jamie and Ben here to cover anything that might be damning. We're lucky Paul managed to convince the rest of the party stalwarts to allow them on the commission. And we're lucky to have Sandy here to insure that no documents that the Republicans would use against us in a most unfair matter will fall into their hands."
Berger, Begalia, Veniste, and Gorelick all smiled at Hillary's kind words on their behalf.
Hillary had gathered all of her belongings and was on her way out the door. "We only need to get through the 9-11 commission hearings and get that thing written and we'll be in the clear," Hillary said as she headed toward the door.
"Because after the report is written and if Gorton and the others do their job, the Bush administration will never want to bring up anything about the commission ever again. It will be a done deal and maybe finally Paul and I can begin planning that 2008 presidential race for all the pain and suffering I've paid through the years."
Begalia smiled in joy that Hillary planned to use him during her election campaign. With his commentator job at CNN he'd be in perfect position to help her out.
"I appreciate your help, Ben, and Jamie. Sandy, you've always been loyal and Bill and I are counting on you to get rid of any documents that would make us look really bad. As for Able-Danger," Hillary said, then paused in thought at the threshold to the room's exit door, "I don't think nothing will come of it."
Everyone was by now on their feet and also gathering their belongings. Hillary and Paul left the room together. Veniste and Gorelick left shortly thereafter. Finally Bill Clinton and Sandy Berger left the room.
All was quiet in the room of that recent meeting. Save for a fly which was enjoying a fine feast of stale donut left behind by those famous personages.
More "Fly on the Wall" HERE
The Hummingbird Wars
It happens every year.
And every year I must ponder the futility of it. I must ponder why they all can't just get along. I must ponder nature's plan of battle.
For the ruby-throated hummingbirds of America's east coast are miniature warriors of the finest even though they are the approximate size of a thumb.
Every sort of hummingbird feeder has graced mine eco-system, both in Merryland and Delaware. There's been grand crystal Cinderella palace affairs. There've been little mason jar things, complete with red screw cap. One year I place flower shaped glass flutes throughout the gardens, filled, of course, with the beloved nectar of sugar and water. One part sugar to four parts water.
I've tried many strategies against the mighty warriors with the red throats. One manual advises placing the feeders far apart across the eco-system. "One hummingbird cannot effectively defend feeders so far apart," the document informs me.
The pretty garden magazines feature handsome glossy pictures of hummingbird feeders surrounded three deep with happy hummingbirds all waiting their turn all polite like for the nectar.
Is there something about my presence that causes the beautiful tiny hummingbird to become a quarrelsome soldier in a green and red uniform?
For the hummingbirds of Serendipity Shore, and Critter Cove before it, fight over the hummingbird feeders. All the time. Twenty-Four/Seven, ladies and gems.
I cannot tell which is the head hummer in that little army now devouring the nectar at an amazing rate. Three feeders hang handily from the porch eaves. Every week now in this "tanking up" period of year for the hummingbirds, the feeders are drained.
But it does not matter. For when one hummingbird should approach a feeder, soon enough another ruby beauty buzzes in, chippering and chattering, and chases it off.
Doesn't matter which feeder. Doesn't matter which hummer. Another one will dive bomb in and the chase begins.
It's not only the hummers involved in this war. For humans and dogs who dare to be in the path of the mighty buzzing marines can become part of the battle. Husband and myself are used to ducking when two, three, sometimes four at a time, these tiny birds fight their battles, mid-air, no mind the surround.
The dogs gripe and snap and begrudgingly move across the porch when the little birds fight all about their canine heads. Dogs have no appreciation of hummingbirds and think those silly feeders that drip on them from time to time should be dismantled completely.
Not to mention those pesky little birds always fighting that the female human seems to enjoy so much. There's no accounting for human tastes. Or so goes the canine logic.
September is the month when the hummingbirds must fatten up and prepare for their long migration to milder climes. September is the month when the air around Serendipity Shore is filled with hummingbirds. They feed on the red salvia and petunias. They enjoy a long sip at the porch feeders.
They fight as if mortal enemies.
How can they fatten up, I ponder, when they spend so much energy protecting a food source that is endless? Or so I think in that manner of a human. What goes on in those little bird brains is a mystery.
For all the chattering and cursing, they all seem to manage to stay alive. And I'm pretty sure it's not one hummingbird draining those feeders every week. One feeder holds a quart!
And they all hang around no mind the many mini-wars to come.
Fall is almost upon. Come Labor Day the tourists, God Love Them, will go home.
For me, Fall always begins with the mighty hummingbird wars.
Dodging fighting hummingbirds is about a pleasant a way as there is to spend a late Summer evening as there is.
The dogs disagree.
More Gardens and Bird posts HERE
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