Impeachment

by Mark Spivak

  Jablonski sat with his feet up on the desk, shuffling through some copy. His office was a large glass cubicle with a panoramic view of the newsroom. “If you ever get to be a fucking editor, God forbid,” he had once told Schoenfeld, “never let them give you a glass office. You won’t be able to pick your nose whenever you want to.”

  “Have a seat.”

  “Sure. Let me maneuver my chair to get a better view of your feet.”

  Jablonski sat up with difficulty. He weighed nearly 300 pounds and was sweating despite the glacial temperature in the building.

  “What do you have for me?”

  “There’s something going on down near the Mexican border.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Here.” He pushed a copy of The New Patriot across the desk, folded to reveal an ad in the back. “Read this.”

  The Angels of Democracy Aren’t Just Looking For a Few Good Men, ran the headline.

  We’re looking for men who are morally upright, patriotically motivated and want to serve the national interest.

  Are you between the ages of 21 and 35 and ready to take on a challenge? Do you enjoy helping others while serving your country at the same time? If so, we have a mission for you that will make you even prouder to be an American than you are right now.

  We’re presently recruiting full-time agents for a career assisting segments of our law enforcement community. The salary and benefits are competitive, but the spiritual rewards are even greater. To apply, you must have a valid driver’s license, be physically fit and totally free of any criminal record…

  “I gathered this was a militia,” said Schoenfeld, “until I got to the part about assisting law enforcement. What’s this all about?”

  “Who knows? All I can tell you is they’re hiring thousands of people. Or agents, as they like to call them.”

  “It looks like they have all their bases covered: Tijuana, Juarez, Presidio, Nogales. Who are these guys?”

  “Don’t ask me.” Jablonski grinned. “You’re the fucking reporter.”

  During the Cane administration, Jablonski and Schoenfeld had been responsible for one of the most lethal combination punches in American journalism. After George Cane’s ill-advised invasion of Sumeristan, the situation on the ground unraveled rapidly. Dozens of American servicemen were being killed daily by a combination of snipers and improvised explosive devices. Robert Hornsby, Cane’s Vice President and the former Director of Central Intelligence, determined that the insurgency was being fueled by Husam al-Din, who had four terrorist training camps in Northern Kabulistan. He convinced the President to launch an air strike and obliterate the camps. The surprise raid was successful, and Cane crowed about it as a proactive security triumph. About a week later, a Post stringer on the ground discovered that the camps had been bogus sites set up by Husam al Din to dupe the Americans. He supplied Jablonski with pictures of lifelike dummies strewn all over the rubble of the destroyed camps, and the editor had gleefully splashed them all over the front page. The incident culminated in Salman Al-Akbar’s famous Christmas video, in which the terrorist leader taunted the American government while sitting next to one of the dummies.

  Jablonski’s scoop may have embarrassed the administration, but Schoenfeld’s came close to dealing it a lethal blow. From a confidential source, he obtained a purloined copy of the Presidential Daily Brief for April 21, 2001, which indicated that the Cane White House had been aware of a possible terrorist attack but had done nothing to prevent it. The resulting series of stories further degraded the credibility of the war-torn President in the public’s mind.

  “You want me to go down there and check it out?”

  “Do some snooping around first. But there’s something else.” Jablonski handed him a sheaf of photographs. “There’s some sort of weird construction going on north of the border, in three different locations. I have no idea of what it is, or whether it’s related to these Angels of Democracy.”

  “Hmm.” Schoenfeld studied the pictures. “How’d you get these?”

  “They’re a little fuzzy, admittedly. They were taken by a freelancer with crappy equipment. But whoever is building this project is making no secret of it. The perimeter guards are the Bozo Brigade from Pinkerton—just about anybody can drive around at night and take shots like this with a telephoto lens. The problem is, we don’t know what any of this means.”

  “Maybe it’s a concentration camp for left-wing journalists.”

  “Hopefully so—I could stand to lose some weight. But do me a favor and look into it. Could be your next Pulitzer.”

  “My oh my. Where will I find the space on my wall?”

  “Kiss my ass,” said Jablonski cheerfully.

  Chapter 17

  The buzzer sounded on Joel Gottbaum’s desk console.

  “Yes?”

  “Jorge Mendoza is on the line for you, sir.”

  “God almighty.” Mendoza was the chairman of the National Council of Criollos Unidos, the largest and most influential organization lobbying for Hispanic rights. “I can see it’s going to be one of those days.”

  “Shall I tell him you’re tied up?”

  “No, I’ll take it.” He pushed the button on the speaker. “Buenos dias, Jorge. How are you?”

  “Good morning, Joel. Your question is a very curious one.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite: why is that?”

  “I would be feeling much better if you could tell me that we were making progress on the Path Bill. But I never seem to get that news from you.”

  “We’re doing everything we can, Jorge.”

  “Is that so? The bill has languished now in committee for nearly an entire year, with no vote—not even a committee vote, much less a roll call on the floor of the House.”

  “Obviously, I’m aware of that. But I think you realize that we’ve had a number of other issues to deal with.”

  “Yes. You’ve been very busy legitimizing the Communist government of Cuba.”

  “Jorge—”

  “But Latinos in this country don’t get the same level of consideration.”

  “We both know you’re not being fair. The President went to the wall for you last year by introducing the bill.”

  “And we also went to the wall for him. We had an unprecedented and very successful voter turnout drive. I can say in all modesty that Hispanic support played a significant role in his reelection.”

  “That’s true, and we appreciate it.”

  “Perhaps so. But we would also appreciate it if you could expend just a little bit more energy in trying to get this bill passed, or at least attempting to bring it up for a vote so that everyone is forced to take a stand.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re doing. The legislative team is working very hard on it.”

  “They’re hired hands, Joel. Congressmen know they don’t have to listen to them.”

  “What exactly would you have us do? What would make you happy?”

  “We’d be grateful if the President would at least give the appearance of getting behind this. He could make some phone calls, lobby Congress personally. It would have a large impact.”

  “You’re well aware that he normally doesn’t do that. That’s why we have legislative aides, and they’re some of the best in the business.”

  “It seems to us, Joel, that he does get involved from time to time, but only when he feels passionate about something. Perhaps that doesn’t apply here?”

  “Give me a break. You know that’s not true.”

  “If this keeps up, it will be very difficult to rally the same level of support for a Democratic presidential candidate the next time around.”

  “Threats are unbecoming to a person of your stature, Jorge.”

  “Joel, Joel. Of course I am not threatening you. I would merely suggest a different course of actio
n, one which will benefit both of us.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I believe people in your line of work would call it realpolitik. Take the pragmatic view. Be powerful, be coercive. Make grand statements.”

  “I think we both know that bill isn’t going to pass.”

  “Of course it won’t pass. But why don’t you light a fire under your guy and have him at least get excited about it? Have him wave his arms around. Have him throw his chest out for a change and hint that he might start issuing executive orders. Then my people might leave me alone for a while, and in turn I can leave you alone.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I appreciate it, gringo. Vaya con dios.”

  Several days later, Curt Bassen reached for a toothpick. He was concluding his weekly private lunch meeting with Khaleem Atalas.

  “I think we’ve covered most of the major stuff, Curt,” said the President. “No further Senate fallout on Cuba?”

  “They’re pissed off, of course, but they’ll get over it. Most members of the Foreign Relations Committee were expecting the executive order as soon as they voted the treaty down.”

  “I would think so.”

  “They’ll make some noise about it in the press, but that’s as far as it’ll go.”

  “Good.”

  “Any progress on Persepostan?”

  “They’ve indicated to Bethany, in general terms, that they want a framework of understanding before they commit themselves publicly to sitting down for negotiations. Their initial demands are completely ridiculous, as you’d expect, but she’ll whittle away at the list. She’s pretty tough, as you know.”

  “True. And after all, they like blondes.”

  Atalas grinned. “I don’t think she’s dumb enough for them. I’d love to be a fly on the wall while they try to iron out a preliminary understanding, though.”

  “Has her timetable changed at all? I believe you said you thought she’d resign 18 to 24 months into the second term, so she could focus on another presidential run.”

  “I still think that’s about right. I told her I’d like to see the Persepostan deal wrapped up before she leaves, but that’s not hard and fast. If you recall, the North Vietnamese dickered for years over the shape of the table before they finally agreed to talks. She’s done a great job, so I need to respect her future plans.” He paused. “You’re still not considering taking a whack at it yourself?”

  “I’m still leaning negative,” said the Vice President. “I’d probably be too old for two terms, to begin with. And I just don’t know if I want to ask my family to go through it again.”

  “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll be with you.”

  “I appreciate it. Anyway, Bethany should do much better next time around, since she won’t have you to contend with.”

  “It wasn’t me. They were too arrogant, and she got blindsided.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “Anything else?”

  “A couple of things.” Bassen glanced at his notes. “I got a call from Jorge Mendoza. He’s apparently been bugging Joel as well. They’d like to see some action on the Path Bill.”

  “Wouldn’t we all. The bill is a non-starter. Mendoza’s a sharp guy, I’m sure he knows that.”

  “Of course he does. But he’s looking for you to make some noise about it publicly, so he can get his supporters off his back.”

  “What does he have in mind?”

  “The usual routine. Have a meeting with the Speaker. Call a few dozen Congressman. Make some stirring public statements. It would be useful for him if we gave the impression that we’re pushing as hard as we can on it.”

  “Okay,” said Atalas, scribbling on a note pad. “I can do that.”

  “Talk about your own immigrant background. That always resonates with the public.”

  “True.”

  “Just don’t mention that you learned Spanish at Andover.”

  The President grinned. “It was Exeter. They have a great foreign language lab.”

  “Speaking of which: I assume you’re following this business going on down at the Mexican border?”

  “I’ve been briefed on it, of course. I asked them to put you in the loop as well.”

  “What are your thoughts?”

  “I don’t have any, to tell you the truth. The FBI is monitoring the situation, and they’ve checked out these Angels of Democracy pretty thoroughly. They’re convinced the group is harmless, and that’s good enough for me.”

  “I’d like to know where their money is coming from.”

  “Who knows? Probably an ongoing right-wing bake sale.”

  “Even so, let’s keep it on the radar. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

  “Tell you what: if you’re concerned, you keep it on your radar. I don’t have time to be following the activities of every kook fringe group out there. There are so many real threats that I can’t worry about a bunch of frustrated vigilantes running around in weird uniforms.” He grinned again. “Although, who knows? After we’re retired, we may be doing the same thing.”

  Chapter 18

  “Good evening. I’m David Gregory of NBC News, and tonight we have the distinction of bringing you a very special broadcast: the first one-on-one interview with President Khaleem Atalas since his reelection last year. We recently had the opportunity to sit down with the President and discuss issues ranging from Cuba and Persepostan to illegal immigration, and we’ll broadcast that discussion now with a minimum of editing and commercial interruption.”

  The screen morphed into an image of the two men sitting across from one another in the president’s private White House office. Atalas wore a dark suit and powder-blue tie, yet he looked casual and relaxed.

  “Mr. President, thank you for your time tonight.”

  “Good to see you, David.”

  “Ready for some tough questions?”

  “Bring it on,” grinned the President. “I have my armor on.”

  “In the six months since your inauguration, the agenda for your second term has gradually begun to take shape. We’ll start with Cuba, which is the most recent challenge you faced. Most observers feel that going over the heads of Congress to establish a new diplomatic initiative was your most controversial foreign policy accomplishment thus far. Do you agree, and is this a pattern we can anticipate for the future?”

  “It wasn’t a victory for me personally, David. I prefer to see it as a triumph for the Cuban people. Our new relationship with Cuba will open the door to trade and tourism, which will lead to a better standard of living for the Cuban masses. And it’s our hope that eventually, a more open society will provide a path to democracy.” Atalas shifted in his seat. “It’s worth noting that I’ve been very hesitant to use executive orders to make new policy. I think if you look back at the record, you’ll see that I’ve issued fewer of them than any recent President. But as I said at the time, the Cuban trade embargo was issued by executive order by President Kennedy in the first place. I was simply giving the Senate a courtesy by submitting the situation for a vote.”

  “As a Constitutional scholar, sir, I’m sure you’re aware that one of the Senate’s roles is to advise and consent on treaties. So submitting it to them wasn’t exactly a courtesy, was it?”

  “The key provisions of the treaty were all actions that were subject to executive order in the first place. When I refer to it as a courtesy, it was our hope that we could have secured passage of the treaty as a means of presenting a unified voice, to demonstrate to the world that different branches of our government were in agreement on this issue.” He smiled. “As you know, that type of solidarity has been hard to come by in recent years.”

  “It must have been difficult to see the treaty fail in the Foreign Relations Committee and be denied an up-or-down vote by
the Senate, particularly given that it was blocked by two members of your own party.”

  “This is America, David, and thoughtful people have a right to their opinions, whether they’re private citizens or United States Senators. I have a great deal of respect for both Chet Wallko and Bob Insfield, and I have worked with them on a number of issues. But as far as Cuba is concerned, I think they’re not looking at the reality of the situation today. The global Communist threat is a thing of the past, and there’s no reason to continue to punish the Cuban people for it.”

  “Shifting to a different part of the world, sir, your administration has made no secret of the fact that Secretary Hampton has begun a dialogue with the leaders of Persepostan with the goal of initiating talks aimed at reducing the possibility of that nation developing a nuclear arsenal. Can you report any progress on that?”

  “We’re at the very beginning stages of that dialogue, David. And no, I can’t disclose what’s being discussed at this point.”

  “I think many Americans were startled to hear that we were actually communicating at all with Persepostan. The country is a sworn enemy of the United States, and we haven’t had a diplomatic relationship with them since 1979. Is this initiative reminiscent of Vito Corleone’s theory that you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?”

  “That’s good advice.” He grinned again. “Unfortunately, we have to be more diplomatic about resolving disputes than he was. Let me be clear: The United States has ongoing conversations with nearly every nation in the world, many of which we don’t have diplomatic relations with, and many of whom claim to be our sworn enemies. Rhetoric and policy are not always the same. In this case, our efforts began last year when I sent a private letter to Persepostan’s Supreme Leader, and I was surprised and encouraged when I actually received a response.”

  “Why do you think he responded to you?”

  “To begin with, I had just been reelected, so it was obvious they would have to deal with me for another four years. More importantly, I believe that the strict sanctions placed on that country have helped bring them to the point where they will consider negotiating.”