“The specifics of the investigation will be released in a statement by the Attorney General. Until then we will have no further comment about this ongoing investigation.” The President answered, scanning the room. “One last question. “Yes?” He pointed to a reporter in the second row.
“Mr. President, do you have any information regarding the sudden death of Senator Farrell?” The reporter asked.
Robert was caught completely off guard. He kept his face rigid, and avoided looking at Jack. Farrell was dead? Why hadn’t he been told? He didn’t know how the President was going to field that question.
“The only information I have for you is that Senator Farrell was found dead from an apparent heart attack.” The President answered smoothly. “My family and I wish to extend our sympathies to his family. He faithfully served our country for many years. The Press Secretary can tell you about funeral arrangements as soon as the details become available.”
He stepped away from the podium, and began talking to Jack and Robert, dragging them with him toward the Oval Office. The Press Secretary was left behind to handle the reporters. “Those are all the questions the President has time for...” His voice was cut off as the door closed behind them.
They walked quickly down the hall. “So, Mr. Deputy Attorney General, congratulations.” The President was saying to Robert.
“How does it feel, Robert?” Jack smiled as he placed his hand on Robert’s shoulder.
“Fantastic.” Robert answered, trying to absorb everything that had just happened. “Thank you Mr. President; Jack. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you earlier, Jack.”
Jack smiled. “You were busy—and busy on one of the most important topics of the day. Good job.”
The President broke in. “I assume you will be wrapping up your investigation?”
“We still have a few things to sort out, Mr. President,” Robert answered. “I was unaware of Senator Farrell’s death…” Robert instantly regretted that admission, but continued, “which may complicate tying up some details.” Robert said as they entered the oval office.
“Let me explain something, Robert.” The President held up his hand, silencing him, as he shut the door. Once it was firmly shut he continued. “You have done an outstanding job, but you and Jack have a presentation to make. You need to be fully on the same page before then. I’m sure you do have some work to do in order to finish this, but here’s what I want you to do first.”
Robert stood by a chair in front of the President’s desk. President Baxter went behind the desk, and seated himself. The President rocked back slightly in his high-backed leather chair, thinking for a moment, then indicated that Robert and Jack should be seated.
“Robert, you will announce, through Jack, the results of the investigation.” The President stated. “You will name Karlovich, Torrance, and anyone else you need to pin this on as the perpetrators,” he continued. “Farrell’s dead, and his involvement would needlessly complicate the situation, so we’ll leave him out of it. You will also, regretfully, announce that the rollout of OPOV is on indefinite hold. Make this short and sweet. Don’t say anything about the program being compromised, broken, or refer to rebuilding it. Use the same language I did. We’ll just let the marketing types take it from there.”
“Sir,” Robert hesitated. He was headed into dangerous territory—political suicide, in fact, if he approached this the wrong way. Did he even want to ask? A smart man would just put the documentation on Baxter’s password in his wall safe to use someday when it was needed. But he could feel his lips start to move. He couldn’t seem to stop his himself from speaking. “Mr. President, there’s something else.”
“Yes?” The President asked.
Listening to himself in horror, Robert heard words coming out of his mouth. “To activate the break-in software, they were using an old password.”
“Hang on a second,” President Baxter interrupted. He hit the buzzer on this desk and his secretary came in the door instantly. “Mrs. Parin. Has that file arrived from the Joint Chiefs yet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. The Attorney General will be right out.” Releasing the button he turned to Jack. “That is the file I mentioned. You and Jim need to drive a strategy. Bring me a proposal as soon as you can.”
Without a word Jack rose and left to join the Chief of Staff, Jim Buchanan, closing the door behind him.
“Sorry for the interruption. Can you make this fast, Robert?”
Robert’s pulse had been high since he arrived. The pace of the West Wing was never calm, but this particular day seemed too intense. Gathering his words quickly, he tried to organize his thoughts. “Yes, Sir. To activate their access to OPOV the perpetrators appear to be using a code that is identical to an old Senate password. Your old password, Sir.” Robert’s breathing stopped. His heart pounded. He wondered if he had just put a gun to his own head.
“Okay, and...?” The President leaned forward.
Robert didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to proceed, and he couldn’t take back the words. Something in him needed to know the answer, and kept pursuing the subject. “Sir, it’s a password you used as a Senator six years ago. We need to know how that password was obtained.” Robert waited.
“Interesting coincidence.” The President didn’t seem concerned. Robert wondered about that, but he found himself pressing the matter.
“The odds of it being a coincidence, Sir, are extremely low. We need to find out…”
“You know Robert,” The President held up a hand, and stopped Robert mid-sentence. “This is a bad situation. I agree that we need to understand how this happened, and fix the problem so that it doesn’t occur again. The first question I have is: how could it possibly have been so easy for you to find my six-year old password? Then I wonder whether the NSA has the same access, and if they found it the same way? Obviously there was a breach, and just as obviously this was a heavy-handed effort to implicate me. How absurd! But the fact is that we shouldn’t talk openly about any of this. It’s bad enough that OPOV was compromised; now we have a leak or breach in another location, too.”
The President stood, signifying that this meeting was coming to an end, “Send me a proposal for an investigation into general access security for the Legislative and Executive branches, Robert. Let cybersecurity drive this one, and let’s get this buttoned up.”
Robert wasn’t convinced that a breach had been the problem. He started to ask the President whether it was possible that one of his aides had been able to access the password when flashing white lights erupted in four directions. Instantly a high-pitched whooping sound filled the air. Baxter was moving toward the side door before Robert noticed that four Secret Service men were storming into the room. Two were already obstructing the view of the President from the windows. Their huge shoulders looked like walls in dark grey wool suits. The other two had lifted Robert from his chair by his elbows, locking them against his sides. His feet barely touched the floor as he was whisked bodily to stand near the President. The six men pressed together as one, blocking Robert and the President from even the room’s light.
The alarm sounded again, and the President was gone from sight as Robert’s feet once more left the ground.
He found himself taken down a couple of hallways into an unfamiliar room with the President. About twenty people were inside the room with them. No one spoke. The Secret Service agents showed no emotion, simply standing guard and waiting. Then the flashing lights in the building blinked blue, while the alarm chirped lightly twice.
“Well, wasn’t that fun?” The President joked with a smile, following the audible sighs of everyone in the room beginning to breathe again. “Fence jumper?” He asked an Agent. He turned to Robert. “It’s a common fraternity prank this time of year. You’d think word would get around that it ends up with the prankster being arrested, but apparently that’s not a topic discussed at college these days.”
“Yes, Si
r, we think that’s the case.” The lead agent responded. “It may be a few minutes before we’re clear.”
“Robert,” The President was saying, “What I’m telling you is that we need to have you wrap this investigation up, and get us back on track to building voter confidence. It’s more important than ever. We have to set aside issues that might be confusing to the public. This is a critical time, and the world is watching how we handle it.”
Most of the people in the room were also continuing their conversations. They all used low volume in the tight space, as they returned to business as usual.
Robert felt a touch of relief. Instead of being reprimanded for his probing, he was getting a new assignment. Assignments generally indicated job security. It would have been frustrating to be promoted and fired in the same day.
“We’re clear.” The agents released the doors and Robert found himself in a hall by the Roosevelt room. The lead agent briefed the President. “It was a fence jump attempt. He was apprehended quickly, and the perimeter is clear.”
“Happens way too often.” The President stated flatly as he headed to his office, indicating that Robert should follow.
“Robert, this is why the founding fathers were so amazing in their construction of our government. Sure, they could see the lack of education and pathetic communications of their day. They also envisioned that relative education levels would never get better. They understood that people would want to focus on their lives, their children, and jobs. They saw how our people could never directly lead themselves, so they structured leadership through representation. A federal republic was born. We listen to our constituency, but we must also guide them.”
Robert was confused. Was the President explaining that OPOV would be shelved? He found himself asking, “Are you saying we’re going to abandon the system?”
“Don’t worry about that, Robert. OPOV is only on hold. We’ll fire it up again just after the midterms as a constituency polling system.”
Robert was having a flashback to the Senator’s election campaign. Baxter had never once given any indication that OPOV was a ploy to endear himself to the public. What was he saying now? “But what about your idea of bringing the vote directly to the people, Sir, since so many have indicated that they aren’t being represented by Congress?”
President Baxter had returned to his seat in the Oval Office, but had not given Robert a signal to sit down again. “Seriously, Robert; after all that you’ve seen and heard you can’t possibly in good conscience want to turn this country over to the misinformed, poorly educated public? They don’t care about the business we deal with each day. Half of them get their news from Tweets and political comedians, and the other half is cowering under the covers because conservative talk-show hosts tell them that religious extremists are coming to get them. Of course we can’t give them the power to make decisions about issues they don’t understand. That crazy fence jumper just now—do you want his vote to count? I think not.” He paused. “No, we must continue to lead the people. We just want to do it more effectively.”
Robert was reeling. Every thought he’d had about this man had suddenly been turned inside out. Everything he’d worked for since Baxter’s election as President had been destroyed. He had believed Baxter when he’d said that the people needed a stronger voice.
Robert suddenly felt tired—exhausted. “Mr. President,” he almost choked out, “You campaigned on One Person, One Vote. It’s why I and most of your staff supported, campaigned, and voted for you.”
“Robbie,” the President almost sounded like he was chuckling at Robert’s naivety. “Listen to what the people are saying that they want. So-called ‘reality shows,’ faster Internet, and the freedom to enjoy football and video games. Oh, I know that’s oversimplifying a bit, but they don’t want the responsibility of running the country, and it’s clear that the majority don’t know much about it. They want us to take care of it for them. They’re afraid to step too far out of the box, so they vote in the same people, year after year, convinced that they’ll make their lives better. The idea of OPOV gave them confidence that we are looking out for their interests. That’s what we needed to do.”
Robert was stunned. Words had failed him.
“So, get this buttoned up.” The President repeated. “The public needs a nice, uncomplicated package to focus on.” He stood and took three steps towards the door. “Keep up the good work, Robert. You’ve shown that we can count on you.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Robert shook hands automatically as he left the Oval Office.
Chapter 75
Robert headed to his office along with Jerry and Agent Brown. He needed to think, and that was as good a place as any to do it. “Coincidence” Baxter had called it. He might as well have stated that it was irrelevant—that the whole “investigation” was irrelevant.
Robert felt utterly outmaneuvered on every front. He had exposed himself as naïve—and he had been. He’d thought he’d learned about Washington politics, and he’d thought he’d been working toward a better government. The President, instead of exhibiting concern for breaches in the system, had repositioned everything Robert had thought he’d known.
Robert felt he had been a pawn in this game. Why had they even involved him? The investigation hadn’t been about fixing OPOV; it had suddenly become a test of loyalty. He understood that there were always concessions in law, and in politics. He also knew that some of Baxter’s discourse was valid—the public generally wasn’t well informed about what their government representatives were doing. Some of them didn’t even understand how their government operated. They didn’t vote often, and when they did, it was often fear-based, without research or understanding.
Robert had thought he could count on Baxter’s public and personal commitment to return the vote to the people. He’d agreed when Senator Baxter had said that the public was apathetic because they’d been too far removed from decision making for too long. Involve the public more, he’d said, and they will recognize that their participation is changing their lives for the better. The people would become interested in their government again. Politics would capture and absorb their attention. The country would become stronger because people would learn through participation. Now that speech was so much empty rhetoric.
Robert felt deceived and used. He had two choices: accept the situation, and continue in his job; or commit career suicide. He could expose the President as a liar, and walk away from politics—along with any chance of joining a prominent law firm. He’d be quickly forgotten, and it was doubtful that anything would change.
As Gregg had said, Robert was only going to get one chance at this level. He could keep rising, or hold onto an idealistic dream of blind justice. Which was it going to be?
Robert had asked Jerry to work on the cybersecurity proposal. When Robert came through the door of his office with Agent Brown by his side, Lorraine was there, uncharacteristically smiling. A man was aligning a metallic decal of Robert’s name in gold vinyl on the door, under the freshly added “United States Deputy Attorney General.” Robert was staring at the lettering as Lorraine handed him a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” He asked, then stared at the paper. It was an order for the name change on the door—with his signature.
“It’s the copy of the work order,” Lorraine told him. “They told me it was supposed to be a surprise, but Mr. Crain wasn’t available to sign for the work, so I shuffled it in with some other papers you were signing the other day. By the way, they said that we’ll be switching offices later. There’s some complicated rearranging they have to do.”
Robert turned to look at the door. His name was shining with gold gilt. Lorraine had said, “the other day”—his promotion had been decided days ago?
“Guess I’ll have to pay a little more attention to what I’m signing in the future,” he said, lifting an eyebrow at Lorraine. “I understand the situation, Lorraine, but I’d prefer that you not do that again. I’m willi
ng to forgo the surprise factor.”
“I understand, Sir,” Lorraine answered, looking abashed. “And Mr. Carlton, Senior, is waiting in your office.”
Robert didn’t answer. He just stared at the open door, visualizing its gaping maw widening and sucking him in, as though he was in a horror movie. He could feel the effect. His father was the last person he wanted to see. He wanted nothing more than to run away.
He went in and closed the door behind him.
His father didn’t turn to look at him as he entered. Without moving from his seat he begin speaking. “Robert, I got a call from Tom.”
Robert felt the reprimand in his Father’s voice. What was left of his energy evaporated. As he walked around to his desk chair, he saw in his father’s face an imminent verbal lashing.
Sitting down, he awaited the lesson he knew his father would deliver.
“You made a mistake. You’ve given Tom the impression that you don’t understand what’s been decided.” His father started flatly. He paused for what seemed to Robert an eternity. “It’s not as difficult a situation as you may think, Son.” He stood up, and began moving around the office. “Robert, maybe I should have explained this years ago. I thought you understood that you’re dealing with influence here. This is bigger than money or power. Power can get money, and money can buy power, but both of them come from influence. Life is all about compromise, and understanding the trade-offs that make it possible to achieve greatness. You are part of this. Tom sees that you can contribute. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t have this promotion—you’d be out. But you have this chance. If you don’t grab it now, I can’t, and I won’t help you again.”
“This situation is incredibly wrong.” Robert spat out, despite his intention to keep silent. “Sure, I can keep moving forward, as long as I’m willing to knuckle under, and accept that I’ve been lied to, and used. I have to accept that a program and a man I worked hard to promote are both filled with deceits.” Robert was completely conflicted. He was having a hard time making eye contact with his father, looking down at the desk. An envelope centered in the middle of it, sitting apart from the clutter, seemed to be staring back at him.
One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1) Page 41
