(no subject)
Monday, January 28, 2008
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Afternoon
When a joint military or scientific operation of any kind concludes, there are always reports to be written and read. The number and magnitude of said reports doubles with every agency or department added to the mix, and then multiplies exponentially for every country beyond the first to get in on the deal. The incident near the Magnetic Pole had involved the United States Marine Corps, the National Paranormal Activity Survey, the State Department, the Defense Department, the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, the Canadians (both the Ministry of Extraordinary Threats and the RCMP, for some reason), the Finns, the Danes, the Russians, and a private non-governmental agency. President Winston found himself considering, as the last report was brought in, whether he might be able to get away with building a fort out of all the paperwork involved and hiding in it until his chief of staff went somewhere else. He dropped the idea, of course, but it was still an appealing one; he'd have to remember it for later.
As it stood, he already knew what was in most of the reports. There was an intern in the State Department who'd been plenty happy to read the President the executive summaries, although her tone made it abundantly clear she didn't believe a word of what she was reading. That was just fine with Winston. He didn't really want to believe most of it, if it came right down to it. Maybe once next January rolled around he'd even have that luxury. Right now? Not so much. Right now he had to slog his way through at least two of the reports, starting with the one from the Marine unit's commander.
It went about as he'd expected. The Marine Corps was undoubtedly the finest and most versatile fighting force the United States had ever assembled, but the fifteen men they'd been training since the Foliage Census incident hadn't been up to the job. Shooting alien horrors? Sure, fine, they did that. They were fantastic at that. Too bad the shooting didn't actually do much to the things that really needed it. Of the fifteen specialists they'd sent up to the icecap, eight of them were laid up in Bethesda with injuries that made the doctors cough in disbelief. The remaining seven were making Defense Department psychologists very, very busy. What made it worse was that it was the considered opinion of every single person involved that no other Marines could have done better. In fact, most of the info the President had pretty much pointed at any other Marines winding up either dead or beyond the help of the psychologists. Really not a reassuring statement, that.
The other report, more detailed and fleshed out with references and recommendations, was from Captain Korpan, the Canadian operations leader. Korpan's people'd been preparing for just such an emergency for more than a hundred years, and he had more than a few recommendations for the Americans- recommendations President Winston found all too familiar. He sighed and put the papers down, sliding one hand under his glasses to rub at the corners of his eyes.
There was no way around it, and definitely no way to just pass the job on to his successor instead. This was too big for private contractors and too important for the inexperienced to handle.
They were going to have to take Dr. Venkman's suggestions after all.
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
Afternoon
When a joint military or scientific operation of any kind concludes, there are always reports to be written and read. The number and magnitude of said reports doubles with every agency or department added to the mix, and then multiplies exponentially for every country beyond the first to get in on the deal. The incident near the Magnetic Pole had involved the United States Marine Corps, the National Paranormal Activity Survey, the State Department, the Defense Department, the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, the Canadians (both the Ministry of Extraordinary Threats and the RCMP, for some reason), the Finns, the Danes, the Russians, and a private non-governmental agency. President Winston found himself considering, as the last report was brought in, whether he might be able to get away with building a fort out of all the paperwork involved and hiding in it until his chief of staff went somewhere else. He dropped the idea, of course, but it was still an appealing one; he'd have to remember it for later.
As it stood, he already knew what was in most of the reports. There was an intern in the State Department who'd been plenty happy to read the President the executive summaries, although her tone made it abundantly clear she didn't believe a word of what she was reading. That was just fine with Winston. He didn't really want to believe most of it, if it came right down to it. Maybe once next January rolled around he'd even have that luxury. Right now? Not so much. Right now he had to slog his way through at least two of the reports, starting with the one from the Marine unit's commander.
It went about as he'd expected. The Marine Corps was undoubtedly the finest and most versatile fighting force the United States had ever assembled, but the fifteen men they'd been training since the Foliage Census incident hadn't been up to the job. Shooting alien horrors? Sure, fine, they did that. They were fantastic at that. Too bad the shooting didn't actually do much to the things that really needed it. Of the fifteen specialists they'd sent up to the icecap, eight of them were laid up in Bethesda with injuries that made the doctors cough in disbelief. The remaining seven were making Defense Department psychologists very, very busy. What made it worse was that it was the considered opinion of every single person involved that no other Marines could have done better. In fact, most of the info the President had pretty much pointed at any other Marines winding up either dead or beyond the help of the psychologists. Really not a reassuring statement, that.
The other report, more detailed and fleshed out with references and recommendations, was from Captain Korpan, the Canadian operations leader. Korpan's people'd been preparing for just such an emergency for more than a hundred years, and he had more than a few recommendations for the Americans- recommendations President Winston found all too familiar. He sighed and put the papers down, sliding one hand under his glasses to rub at the corners of his eyes.
There was no way around it, and definitely no way to just pass the job on to his successor instead. This was too big for private contractors and too important for the inexperienced to handle.
They were going to have to take Dr. Venkman's suggestions after all.