At Risk of Winning (The Max Masterson Series Book 1)

by Mark E Becker

  The audience at the Kennedy Center paid for their seats, and the take was enough to erase the debt of the Masterson campaign. Bigtime luminaries treated the event like the Academy Awards and paid enormous sums for a pair of tickets, which were then surreptitiously sold to the highest bidder. They all wanted to be there, but billions of viewers had to settle for access over the web.

  There would be no commercials and no introductory speakers, and the crowd waited restlessly, murmuring in a low growl that seemed to grow as the 8:00 p.m. start time approached. Max was going to speak, and they craved to hear him.

  Security in black suits and hidden microphones lined the stage, dark sunglasses made them look like they had been manufactured on an assembly line. These were private security guards, although they looked like the Secret Service agents assigned to the candidates. Since Jason Bland’s disappearance, the Secret Service was only assigned to protect Blythe. They scanned the crowd and spoke to their central command in the sound booth.

  The lights came on, and the crowd cheered, anticipating that Max would mysteriously appear on the stage and stand before the backdrop like a rock band. An opening appeared in the stage floor, and there he was, rising from beneath.

  he was dressed in a black suit and red, white, and blue tie with a brilliant white shirt for contrast. Every hair was meticulously in place. If a president could look like a president, but double as a movie star at the same moment in time, it was Max. There were no props. No podiums to hide his image. Just Max in the middle of the stage with an American flag superimposed on the White house projected in high definition on the screen behind him. The audience stood in unison, and he stood silently for ten minutes until the applause subsided below a roar, making no effort to quiet the crowd. The clapping increased with every facial gesture or body movement. he finally spoke in a loud and firm voice.

  “I’m Max Masterson, and I’m running for president of the United States of America.”

  The cheering began, and the crowd rose to their feet again. If it was possible, the noise was louder this time, but quickly diminished as the audience resumed their seats, eager to listen.

  “I promised you that I would make no speeches during my campaign, but now the campaign is over. I am here today to ask you for your vote.”

  he shifted slightly, and the backdrop changed into a large ballot with a large red checkmark next to his name, which was larger and bolder than the other candidates’ names. he looked serious, more stern than he had been portrayed in the many political cartoons of recent weeks. They liked to make him look like a carefree playboy or a baby in diapers to showcase his youth and inexperience, but now he looked older and more distinguished. his eyebrows peaked, forming a crease above his nose, and then he broke into his trademark smile, his dimples highlighting his handsome features.

  “Many of you, particularly the press, and, oh yeah, that guy I’m running against, have been pestering me to make speeches on everything from whether I wear whitey tighties to how I’m going to keep terrorists from sneaking in and blowing up the Statue of Liberty.”

  The audience laughed, almost in relief.

  “I decided that if I’m going to run for president, I’m going to do it my way. Personally, I think that America is sick and tired of politicians.”

  The clapping began and cheers of support filled the room.

  “I see what happens when politicians stand up and start talking by the hour. It happens to me, too. My eyes glaze over, my mind wanders, and by the time they are done droning on and on, I can’t remember anything except the parts that pissed me off or made me think. Lately, there hasn’t been much that has come out of a politician’s mouth that has made me think.”

  A large man in the front row stood and yelled “Ain’t that right!” blocking the view of the members of the audience for ten rows behind him, so they stood, too. he began clapping loudly, so they clapped along with him. In waves, the audience stood. he soon had a standing ovation for nothing more than the consensus that politicians create boredom.

  he continued without a pause. “That’s one reason why I’m not a politician. I’m just a man running for president.”

  The cheering began afresh, and he hadn’t even begun to get into the important part of the speech. he raised his hands and achieved silence. “I have been telling you what I stand for. I have been doing it in sound bites, and I did it that way so the press wouldn’t misrepresent what I said. I wanted you to remember me for what I believe, not for what they want you to believe.” he paused, and the crowd settled down.

  In the sound booth, the producer began to instruct the technicians to break to commercial, but then remembered that there were none. Max stood in silence, and the whole room became silent once more.

  “I’m going to do a little experiment. When I tell you a subject, if you remember where I stand, tell me in one sentence. Ready?”

  In homes all over the world, entire families waited for the impromptu civics test about to be broadcast. “Ready!” they yelled in unison, not realizing or caring that Max couldn’t hear them. he heard the voices in the auditorium, and that was enough for him.

  “The environment!”

  “If you dirty it up, you make it cleaner than it was, or pay someone else to do it,” they yelled.

  “Jobs.”

  “Everyone should be able to make enough to support their family.”

  “health care.”

  “All Americans are entitled to see a doctor when they are hurt or sick, and afford what it takes to keep them healthy.”

  “The elderly.”

  “Treat your elders as you want to be treated, to live a full life with dignity.”

  “Our children.”

  “We owe it to our children to protect them from harm, and to make their world better than ours.”

  “Education.”

  “The more you learn, the more you earn.”

  “Politicians.”

  “If you lie to the voter, we take note and you lose our vote.”

  This time, they broke into pandemonium, and it was several minutes before they composed themselves enough for him to go on. he stood patiently. When they settled down, he continued.

  “Now, I want you to recite, word for word, what my opponent has told you about all of those things but leave out the lies.”

  In the midst of the laughing, the viewers at home looked at each other and realized that the incumbent president had lied to the American people on all of the subjects they had heard in Max’s “speech,” or that if he had told the truth, they couldn’t remember what it was. For most, it was the first time that they clearly saw who they had elected to office and the serious choice they were about to make.

  “I believe that Americans should have a clear choice when they decide who will lead them. I also believe that Americans should trust that they have made the right decision. The job of president should not be to deceive. It should not be a popularity contest. The true measure of a president is whether he can make clear choices, as unpopular as they may be at that moment, based on strong guiding principles. And when the decision is made, you should feel secure that it is right for America.”

  Max was settling into the speech he had rehearsed since childhood. he stood ramrod straight and solid, his hands emphasizing each point as the cameras zoomed to catch each facial expression. It was an intimate, personal conversation in tone, not preaching or loud, and he commanded their intense attention as he seemed to speak to each of them individually.

  “I am one man. I am, above all else, a patriot. A patriot is an American who believes in and promotes American ideals. The next American president should be a patriot. I am not a Democrat. I am not a Republican. I am also not a liberal, a conservative, a communist, a socialist, a fascist, or a king. I am an American patriot.”

  “During the many months that I have been running for president, I have limited my words to clear messages so that you understand and remember where I stand on the issues. After I become y
our next president, my next important duty is to surround myself with other American patriots who are the best of the best, who will follow the maxims that define the way we will conduct the business of government.”

  Behind Max, the screen morphed into an image of the gold-inscribed card that he carried in his pocket. he pulled the card from his suit and read. “These are my maxims for America. They are the derived from the basic principles by which I conducted my campaign, and they are the principles by which I will conduct the office of president. I have modified them to deal with the task before us.” The list transformed behind him.

  The informed will of the people dictates what is right. Maintain what is right, and right what is wrong.

  Educate the people before asking them to decide an issue. American interests must prevail over foreign interests. Make Americans aware that they are a part of the world. It is better to confess that you don’t know than to lie. Don’t quote a statistic unless you can back it up with facts. Persuade, don’t deceive.

  Combine strength with compassion.

  Measure each decision by what is best for America. Above all else, be a patriot.

  “The time has come for us to take back America and take back our ideals. The days of ‘My country right or wrong’ are over. We are progressing to a higher rung on the ladder that is our legacy. We are progressing, right this very moment, toward the mutual goal of creating a nation of patriots. We are now, each one of us, Americans, and American patriots do what is right for America.”

  “When I walk away from this speech, I will be a rich man. Like my opponent, and all of the opponents I have faced and vanquished in this political campaign, I am wealthy. But the richness of my life that I have accumulated is the realization that I am no different from you, and you are no different from me. We are all Americans, and the United States of America is full of people who have mutual interests. We want America to succeed. We will succeed.”

  The response to his words was secondary to the response to Max himself. At that moment, he was the leader of the country, and no rebuttal by his opponents could refute the message that he had presented. As he stood, absorbed in the lights and applause, two men in identical black suits turned toward the stage and withdrew laser-sighted machine pistols. They aimed at Max’s chest, emptied the magazines at fifty rounds a second, and fled as the shocked crowd surged forward. Screams filled the cavernous auditorium. Max still stood, in the same position he had been in before the bullets flew in his direction. The screen behind him was punctured with black holes where the bullets had passed, but Max was unscathed. Two Secret Service agents lunged in his direction, trying to bring him down and protect him with their bodies, but they passed through Max and collided with one another. Max was not there.

  The remaining Secret Service agents cornered the shooters just outside the door and hauled them out of sight.

  Darkhorse remained in his seat at the back of the auditorium, shocked at the failure of his suicide shooters to dispatch Max in front of a huge audience. By the time the shooters had been detained for questioning, they would all be dead from poison capsules surgically implanted inside their mouths. Nothing would remain that would lead investigators back to the group that had devised this attempt to eliminate the man who continued to occupy the stage unscathed.

  Max watched the monitor as his hologram was first shot, then tackled, and then immersed in running figures, all trying to protect him and bewildered about his lack of substance. “hey, you guys!” his voice came from numerous speakers arranged to make the sound of his voice seem to come from his image. “I heard they were going to try this, so rather than dying, I thought I’d just make the speech from my house tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” he kept talking in front of the tattered backdrop, aware that his attempt at smoke and mirrors would never succeed a second time. “I have maintained all along that I am not a politician, and that’s a good thing, because a guy could get shot being a politician.”

  The audience roared in laughter, partly out of relief and partly at the irony of the situation that had just played out before them.

  The universal assumption was that the shooting was sanctioned by the president somehow, and whether that impression was accurate or not, Blythe had no time before the election to disavow all knowledge. Max did nothing to correct this perception, even though he knew that other forces were also responsible for his illusory demise. Blythe was finished, and so was his campaign. With the information that his intelligence secretary had leaked to the press, they were posting a love fest of new features and editorials running on continuous feeds, fulfilling their lust for salacious scandal that threatened to engulf the issues of the election.

  “You have probably been wondering, too, how I could run for president without announcing my running mate. I had planned on telling you about it during tonight’s debate, but the president came down with the flu and had to go back to the White house to rest. I’m sure that he’s watching now.” The image of Max turned to the right, the illusion of his physical presence shattered by the tattered backdrop that still displayed the Stars and Stripes behind the hologram. “So I brought her here, right here on this stage, to meet you.”

  As he spoke, the lights illuminated a small side stage, where Scarlett Conroy stood, red hair immaculate, beaming with vice-presidential appeal. She took her position next to the spot where Max’s image continued to appear, and spoke: “Max will be here in a few minutes. After all, my dear voters, it’s not reality, but the perception of reality we need to focus upon, as this evening’s events have so clearly demonstrated. But here is a reality that you can count on. In a few short weeks, I will be a heartbeat away from the presidency.”

  Scarlett’s comments struck a nerve with the audience, who stood to applaud, tears streaming down many cheeks. The sound of their applause prevented her from saying more, and her feeble attempts to settle the crowd were ignored. The cheering continued long after she surrendered to the emotion of the moment, and tears of joy trickled down her cheeks.

  There was no way that she could have known, but the standing ovation was duplicated in households around the world.

  Max boarded a helicopter to make the jump across the Potomac from Fairlane to the Kennedy Center. As he strapped himself into the passenger seat, it lifted off the landing pad and hovered briefly and his pilot turned to him for the first time.

  “how did it go?” Rachel asked, guiding the chopper toward the monuments of the nation’s capitol in the distance.

  “It’s too early to tell,” he said. “But there’s hope . . .”

  The End