raknovel Chapter 158 The President's Speech
Chapter 158 The President's Speech
Chapter 158 The President's Speech
At 6:30 a.m., the streets of Manhattan, New York, were shrouded in mist blown in from the Hudson River.
The piercing sound of car horns awakened this massive steel jungle.
At major subway station entrances, commuters' steps are hindered by various newsstands of all sizes.
Today's newspapers, both in terms of content and layout, appear exceptionally bizarre, giving one the illusion of "schizophrenia."
To the left of the metal frame are Democratic media outlets, led by The Washington Post and The New York Times.
The newspaper's layout exuded a chilling aura, as if it wanted to overturn the White House, with its bold headline taking up half the page and catching the eye:
[The President's Lies: Top-Secret Watergate Tapes Leaked!]
Below the title, densely packed lead type revealed the transcribed text of the audio tape without reservation.
Between the lines, Richard Nixon is portrayed as a behind-the-scenes manipulator of the state apparatus, a violator of the Constitution, and an obstructor of justice.
In the bottom right corner of the page, a large word "Impeachment" was even printed in blood-red font.
On the right side of the metal frame are Republican media outlets, represented by the Chicago Tribune.
The front pages of these newspapers are completely different:
[The Heroic President's Thunderous Counterattack: The White House Narrowly Escapes a Devastating Air Strike!]
The article on Toutiao used a chilling style to depict the life-or-death moment on yesterday's Delta Air Lines flight.
The hijackers' plot to crash a passenger plane into the White House was described in vivid detail.
In the core paragraphs of the article, the author lavishly praises the Secret Service agents who "descended like gods" under President Nixon's command, lauding them for protecting the country with their own flesh and blood.
A Wall Street trader in a suit and tie held a paper cup of coffee, clutching The New York Times in his left hand and the Chicago Tribune in his right, his lips trembling slightly.
"What the hell is going on?" He looked around blankly.
The people around them were also caught in a huge cognitive dissonance.
At the street corner, two people who had been discussing last night's baseball game broke into a heated argument.
"He's a liar! A wiretapper! The tapes are right here; he's using our tax money to cover up his dirty deeds!"
The old man on the left angrily waved his newspaper, spitting everywhere.
"Shut your filthy mouth! Didn't you see? If the president hadn't deployed the Secret Service in advance, the terrorists would have already crashed the plane into the White House! He's protecting this country, while you idiots are being used by politicians who are smearing him!"
The middle-aged man on the right roared back without backing down.
The wiretapper and the national hero, two completely opposite extreme images, were brutally shoved into the minds of all Americans on the same morning.
At this moment, the beliefs and perceptions of the entire American society experienced a magnitude 8 earthquake.
At nine o'clock in the morning, in Washington, D.C., the doors to the Oval Office of the White House were closed.
The atmosphere was so oppressive it sent chills down one's spine. Richard Nixon sat behind his resolute desk, piled high with the day's newspapers, his eyes reflecting an indescribable weariness.
Someone actually managed to bypass his layers of security and smuggle out a recording tape that could kill him from this most central office in the United States!
What does this mean?
There is no one in this White House whom I can absolutely trust anymore.
His staff, his agents, the officials he promoted—every single one of them could be a venomous snake ready to bite him in the back.
-
"Knock, knock, knock." The knocking interrupted Nixon's thoughts, which were on the verge of collapse.
"Come in," he said hoarsely, grabbing a tissue and haphazardly wiping the sweat from his forehead.
The door opened, and General Bill walked in, dressed in a crisp army uniform.
"Your Excellency, President," he said, giving the president a respectful salute, "the Department of Defense needs to present you with an internal report in person regarding yesterday's Delta Air Lines incident."
Nixon waved his hand weakly, signaling him to continue.
"Yesterday afternoon, a militant with professional military training successfully smuggled firearms onto a flight bound for Washington."
"According to the Military Intelligence Bureau's overnight interrogation, the thug confessed that his ultimate goal was to hijack the crew and crash the passenger plane into the White House in order to assassinate you."
Nixon's eyelids twitched violently. Even though he already knew about the news, the fact that it had been confirmed by high-ranking military officials made the fear of brushing shoulders with death still sent chills down his spine.
If that plane had actually crashed—he wouldn't even have the chance to sit here and worry now.
"However, the crisis did not occur." General Bill looked directly into Nixon's bloodshot eyes: "Fortunately, Mr. Qin Han, the producer of Han's Film Company, happened to be on that flight with ten of his security personnel to conduct on-site research in order to prepare for an anti-terrorism film."
"When the hijackers attempted to take control of the plane, the Hans Security team stepped in to protect the lives of nearly 300 civilians on board and thwarted an airstrike targeting the White House."
"To avoid causing panic, they told passengers on site that they were Secret Service agents on a mission."
""
After General Bill finished his report, he placed the file folder on the table.
Nixon leaned back in his wide chair, his mind racing with thoughts.
Han's Film Company, Qin Han, it's this Chinese person again!
A few days ago, during a congressional hearing, it was the military sniper rifle he had seized that forced him to completely sever ties with the "Japanese clique" and order sanctions against Japan, which led to the exposure of the tape!
Today, the same person, leading a heavily armed squad, "casually" thwarted a decapitation strike targeting him from tens of thousands of feet in the air.
Can such a coincidence really exist?!
Looking at General Bill's expressionless face, Nixon understood the true purpose behind the military's release of this "internal report."
This is not a simple report; it's a deal.
They had everything ready.
The passengers' unwavering belief in the "Secret Service agent" was the most powerful weapon they had given him to combat the tape scandal.
Faced with that irrefutable audio tape, as a top politician well-versed in law, he knew better than anyone that he had no chance of refuting it on a legal level.
If convicted of obstructing justice and abusing administrative power, he will face extremely severe criminal charges.
Forget about a dignified resignation; he might even spend the rest of his life in an American prison.
In this suffocating despair, the military delivered this report.
If he simply nodded and followed the "script," taking all the credit for this stroke of luck for himself, he, Richard Nixon, would be the anti-terrorism hero who saved hundreds of civilians.
But the price is that from now on, he will have to give the green light to all the military's requests.
Nixon glanced at the New York Times beside him and rubbed his temples.
Power is only effective when it is in your hands.
Once he loses him, he's less than a stray dog on the White House lawn.
Nixon slumped his shoulders, looking as if he had aged ten years in an instant.
"General Bill, please be sure to convey the President's sincerest gratitude to Mr. Qin Han and the valiant members of Han's Security Team behind him. America will never forget their outstanding contributions."
A glint flashed in General Bill's eyes, and he bowed slightly: "I will relay your message word for word, Your Excellency."
"Very good, you can leave now."
As General Bill walked out the door, Nixon reached out and pressed the intercom button on his desk.
"By White House Press Office," his voice hardened again, "inform all major television networks that I will be giving a nationally televised address at 8 p.m. tonight."
"Your Excellency, what is the topic of your speech?" the aide on the other end of the communicator asked cautiously.
"The theme?" Nixon looked out the window at the Washington Monument. "It's about how we defend American freedom and life in this disaster."
At noon, major television networks across the United States saw peak news viewership.
On pro-Democratic ABC and CBS television networks, midday soap operas were ruthlessly cut off.
There was no host on the screen, only a slowly rotating black cassette recorder.
Nixon's highly recognizable voice resonated in the living rooms of millions of American homes.
"—Tell them to stop investigating. For the good of the country, cover this up—"
Amidst a torrent of profanity, the president, who had always portrayed himself as tough and righteous, was calmly planning how to cut off the FBI's independent investigation and how to cover up the crime through political means.
Hearing this irrefutable voice, countless old-school Americans who had firmly believed in the president's innocence froze in mid-air with their knives and forks in hand.
The collapse of faith can happen in an instant.
The humiliation of being deceived transformed into a spark of anger, which quickly brewed in major cities, ready to burn the liar to ashes.
However, at almost the same time.
Local television networks like Fox News, which lean towards the Republican Party and conservatives, aired the newly recorded exclusive interviews.
The footage showed no politicians in suits, only a group of ordinary passengers still shaken.
A mother holding a blonde little girl was sobbing uncontrollably, her tears ruining her makeup.
As she spoke to the camera, her voice trembling, she described the horrific scene: "That madman—he held a gun to the flight attendant's head, he was yelling in the cabin—I covered my daughter's eyes tightly, I thought we were going to die—"
The scene shifts to a burly white man with red-rimmed eyes: "Just when we were in despair! A miracle happened!"
""
"Ten people! They were like gods descending from the heavens, moving so fast I couldn't even see them, it only took a second! In a second they smashed that scum to the floor!"
"They told us they were Secret Service agents. The president had intercepted the intelligence and sent them there to protect us!"
Another elderly man with gray hair clasped his hands together in front of the camera, tears streaming down his face: "If it weren't for His Excellency the President's advance planning, all of us, along with this plane, would have been destroyed long ago. God bless America! God bless our President!"
The emotional impact of matters concerning life and death is terrifying.
When emotion clashed with reason, and when gratitude for saving lives collided with political scandals, a dramatic chemical reaction occurred across American society.
People no longer know whether to believe the tape or the weeping survivors in their eyes.
Everyone is waiting, waiting for the man in the White House to give the final answer.
8 p.m., White House press briefing room.
This is Richard Nixon's golden age.
The moment the president stepped onto the stage through the side door, the flashes from hundreds of reporters below the stage poured down like a waterfall, almost blinding everyone.
Nixon stood firmly behind the podium, his hands resting steadily on the table, his chin slightly raised, his eyes revealing a resolute determination as if facing death.
Tens of millions of television sets across the United States were completely silent.
He finally spoke: "My fellow Americans. Standing here, my heart is heavy, but also filled with gratitude. In my hand is the passenger manifest for yesterday's Delta flight from Los Angeles to Washington, D.C."
"Two hundred and eighty-seven names. Two hundred and eighty-seven living American citizens. Among them were children, mothers, and fathers struggling to make a living."
He held the list high, displaying it to all the cameras.
"Just yesterday afternoon, a deranged terrorist attempted to hijack this flight. He wanted to turn this passenger plane, full of civilians, into a bomb target—right here, right here at the White House!"
A collective gasp filled the press conference room. When the president himself admitted to this insane plan, all the reporters' pens were practically smoking from writing.
Nixon put down the list and continued his speech: "But the terrorists' plot failed. Because on this land, there was a group of unsung heroes. It was they who, with their iron will and fearless courage, shattered this disaster at 10,000 meters in the air."
"I want to thank this great action team. They protected 287 lives, protected the White House, and protected the dignity of the United States of America!"
As a brilliant orator, he successfully ignited the patriotic fervor of countless Americans watching on television, and many had tears in their eyes.
"My fellow countrymen. As your president, I must remain absolutely clear-headed in this perilous time."
Nixon stared into the camera as if looking at everyone who questioned him.
"While I was losing sleep over protecting the lives of three hundred Americans—"
"Some corrupt elements within our own country are using extremely despicable means to attempt to smear my determination to defend the nation by taking things out of context and using a tape of dubious origin!"
"I will not be defeated by such cowardly tricks! Any force that attempts to divide America will be condemned by history!"
"God bless America!"
He neither acknowledged the authenticity of the recording nor denied the voices in it, but simply labeled all the accusations as "sabotage of counterterrorism" and "political persecution."
The moment the speech ended, the whole of America erupted in cheers!
The heroic president suffered countless injustices for the country, and countless people took to the streets, chanting Nixon's name.
However, that authentic recording remains like a barbed needle stuck in the heart of the Department of Justice, and the emotions of the entire society are in a dangerous state of flux.
It's 11 p.m. in the private living room of the White House.
Nixon removed his television makeup, revealing a deep weariness and aged appearance.
He leaned back on the sofa, sitting opposite Secretary of State Henry Kissinger.
"Richard, your speech tonight was perfect. I think you've at least won back public opinion from the grassroots."
Kissinger picked up his glass, took a sip, and said, "But you and I both know that political performances cannot replace the law."
"The legal effect of that tape cannot be erased. The Justice Department's independent prosecutor will not give up, and the Supreme Court will intervene sooner or later."
"7
"Your political career has reached a dead end."
Faced with Kissinger's brutal analysis, Nixon gave a bitter laugh, picked up his glass of whiskey, and downed the fiery liquor in one gulp.
"I know, Henry. I know this is the end of my life."
"But at least I won't go to jail, right?"
He turned to look at the White House lawn outside the window and exclaimed, "This hijacking incident, that Chinese man named Qin Han—it's simply a blessing from God."
He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay in that chair.
However, whoever his successor is, would never dare to defy public opinion and send a "heroic president" to court and imprison him.