by Bobby Akart
Now, eight weeks away from retirement, Sarge sought to leave the country on the best possible footing for his successor. The vote on the Pacific Statehood Act was an important step in bringing the nation together again, but under the right circumstances.
Sarge and Donald were greeted by a chorus of good mornings from his communications team. The White House communications director and the White House press secretary were co-equal in their level of importance and authority. They had a large staff of deputy directors who handled everything, including research, social media, speech writing, and public liaison matters.
When the government made the move from its temporary location in Boston to DC, Sarge brought with him two political novices, but individuals he trusted to speak for him when dealing with the media—Michelle Crepeau and Marcos Ocampo, both former students of his at Harvard.
After the recovery effort allowed for the reopening of Harvard, both of them completed their degrees. Ocampo obtained his Massachusetts law license, and Crepeau immediately began to work as a staffer for Donald. Ocampo and Crepeau got married after he passed the bar and took a job within the administration. Over the years, the two had shown the ability to speak for Sarge without allowing their preconceived notions and political leanings to result in conflicting messages.
The team assembled by Donald soon became known as the young guns because of their age compared to prior administrations and their ability to shoot down any dissent to the president’s agenda.
Sarge and Donald took their seats in the chairs flanking the fireplace. This briefing was always conducted by Donald, with input from Ocampo and Crepeau. Domestic policy had been their administration’s primary focus due to the circumstances. Sarge had been successful in achieving his goals except for the reunification efforts.
“Let’s get a few things out of the way before we get to the vote,” started Donald. “Do we have the president’s speech ready for tonight’s Governor’s Ball?”
Crepeau, as communications director, handled that one. “Yes, sir. We’ve incorporated the president’s requested modifications and we’re uploading the final draft into the checklist as we speak. We can make any further modifications deemed necessary after today’s early meeting with select governors.”
“Excellent,” said Donald. He glanced toward the windows and saw that the snow flurries were continuing to pelt the bulletproof glass. “What’s the status of this nor’easter, and does FEMA have its assets in place?”
“Sir, I just got off the phone with the National Weather Service,” replied Ocampo. “I plan on leading today’s press briefing with a statement. This is going to be a significant weather event impacting the mid-Atlantic states. The extratropical cyclone is going to create heavy winds and pull arctic air from Canada with its counterclockwise rotation. While the DC area will be spared for the most part, states as far south as Kentucky and western Virginia will experience tropical force winds and plunging temperatures. Snowfall across Pennsylvania, New York, and Vermont will be measured in feet, not inches.”
Sarge took his mind away from the vote and asked, “Are we prepositioning utility crews to help restore power when the time comes?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” replied Crepeau. “FEMA has moved quickly to place assets throughout the region. I’m told that several requests for federal disaster declarations from the states will be made today. If possible, we believe it would be a good idea to sign those in advance of the afternoon press briefing, but certainly before the Governor’s Ball.”
“Get them to Donald or Betty. I won’t hesitate.”
“Yes, sir.”
Donald scrolled through his iPad to look at the items on the checklist. “I don’t see anything else on here that requires the president’s immediate attention, so let’s take an overview of the week relative to the statehood matter.”
Crepeau reviewed her iPad. She leaned back to a member of her team, who hastily excused herself and scrambled out of the Oval Office. She looked up at Donald with trepidation. “Sir, we have a defector.”
“Who? A congressman?”
“Yes, sir. Craig Barnes, Arizona four,” replied Crepeau.
Donald slapped the arm of the chair. “I knew he was on the fence. His district borders California, stretching from the desert in the south all the way up to the Utah state line. Western Arizona was originally part of the four states that opposed the Constitutional Convention and sided with the former president. Michelle, how do you know this?”
“One of his staffers just sent me a text,” she replied. “He plans on making a statement to the press at ten mountain time, noon eastern.”
“Donald, should I reach out to him?” asked Sarge.
“Let me look into it first. We can afford a few defections, and Barnes was always a possibility.”
“Who else?” asked Sarge.
“Nevada four. Congresswoman Rhimes from Henderson, whose district borders California.”
Sarge furrowed his brow. The nature of the presidency was a series of contradictions. The President of the United States was widely considered the most powerful man on the planet, yet his job was to avoid using this power except under the most dire circumstances—which he was expected to avoid rather than engage.
In reality, on the domestic front, Sarge’s job was about negotiating, more with Congress than anyone else. It was a team effort that he and Donald learned through trial and error. Most times, Donald conducted the negotiations and would come into the Oval Office to tell Sarge what his, meaning the president’s, position was on the issue. Sarge likened the process to a lawyer’s representation of his client.
A lawyer treated his client that way most of the time—looking after the client’s interests while not telling him what those interest were until they were already decided. Donald took the helm and quickly adapted to become the White House consigliere, protecting Sarge from direct negotiations with everyone, especially Congress.
This worked well because Sarge dealt with a relatively tame Congress. Following the collapse, the country came together as they saw the recovery effort come to fruition. All of Washington worked toward this common goal. But after Sarge’s re-election, the nation began to slip back into its old, partisan ways. Unfortunately, political leopards can’t change their spots.
“Same question,” Sarge began. “Should I get involved at this point? Donald, you know we need this. The Senate is easily manipulated with cash and promises. We need the House to kill this bill tomorrow so we don’t have to sweat it out in the Senate on Wednesday.”
“No, sir. Not yet. I’ll call in the House Majority Whip and see what the deal is. I’ve got two hours before Barnes makes his press appearance.”
Chapter 7
10:30 a.m.
The Oval Office
The White House
Washington, DC
The coalition Sarge had put together over the years to see his legislative agenda passed was a mix between conservatives, libertarians, and moderate democrats who believed in Sarge’s plans for the recovery. As the country regained its footing, political parties fell back toward their old, obstructionist ways. In the last midterm election, as more pro-statehood congressmen and senators were elected, Sarge saw his opportunity for a Constitutional Convention shrinking. With the defection of two republican congressmen, his coalition was showing signs of cracking.
For many congressional actions, Sarge found himself holding the hands of key swing voters, providing them constant reassurance in order to push his legislative agenda through. Thus far, he had intentionally avoided the use of executive orders, which had become the norm by presidents on both sides of the aisle. Showing restraint, his well-stated policy vehemently opposed any executive action that made new law. That was the job of Congress.
As the election approached in October, Sarge and Donald carefully watched the polls to determine which way the political winds were blowing regarding the Pacific Statehood Act. Election Day provided him his answer. The new Congres
s would pass the bill, and America would be facing yet another fundamental transformation forced upon her by the will of a few states. He needed the bill defeated before Congress adjourned for the session before Thanksgiving.
Sarge was pensive as he watched the blowing snow begin to obstruct the view across the South Lawn. Betty quietly entered the room and whispered, “Mr. President, Mr. Quinn has arrived with an entourage. Would you prefer to see them in the Roosevelt Room or here, sir?”
“Here, please, Betty,” replied Sarge. “And, Betty, would you mind having them send over a mocha latte. This blowing snow reminds me of Boston, which, oddly, reminds me of mocha lattes.” Comfort food.
“I will, sir, and I’ll advise Mr. Quinn.” Betty slipped out as quietly as she had slipped in. Sarge debated whether he wanted to sit in a power position behind his desk or on a personal level at the couches. He opted for the casual arrangement. The vote was tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d exert muscle if necessary. He’d learned from John Morgan—wield power powerfully, but sparingly.
Sarge stood to greet his guests. Donald led the way and was followed by the House Majority Whip for the Republicans, who held forty-six percent of the seats under the current makeup. However, there were six percent of the members of Congress who were libertarians that caucused with the Republicans in exchange for lucrative committee positions. The fifty-two percent was sufficient to defeat the bill without any support from across the aisle.
Also in attendance was the libertarian leader, a young congressman from Colorado who ran on, in his words, a pro-pot platform. He was pushing for the legalization of marijuana nationwide. While he garnered support in parts of Colorado and other Rocky Mountain states, he could never gain enough momentum to bring it to a floor vote.
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming to see me on short notice,” started Sarge. “This is a very important vote, and while, as a lame-duck president, I’ve tried to distance myself from the vote, I’ve remained attentive nonetheless. Donald, bring us up to speed on the numbers.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” said Donald as he handed out a roster of the members of Congress to their guests. “We need two hundred eighteen votes against passage. At the start of the day, with the coalition we’ve forged in the House, we had two hundred twenty-six votes to kill the bill. I’m now informed that we lost two more this morning.”
“Now, Donald,” said the Majority Whip, Congressman Billy Trent from Virginia, in his heavy Southern accent, “we’ve known about Barnes and Rhimes from the beginning. Both have been noncommittal when pressed. Without them, we have two twenty-four, six more votes than we need.”
“Six votes is very slim for something this important,” interjected Sarge. “If six of them switch to the yea column, the bill passes. Have you three been able to identify any more fence-sitters? I want to know if I need to get more actively involved.”
“Sir, we don’t think so,” replied the congressman from Colorado. “We have several things working in our favor. The Majority Whip can confirm this, but those who are voting against the bill are doing so in large part because the referendums that were held in the four states did not impress anyone, including moderate democrats who are willing to discuss the issue in private.”
“What are they saying?” asked Sarge.
Congressman Trent replied, “Mr. President, while the referendum votes were overwhelmingly in favor of pursuing reunification and statehood, turnout by the eligible voters in each of the states was abysmal. Fewer than a quarter of all voters cast ballots. If you couple that with the radical economic and social issue concessions demanded by the four states, the will to pass this legislation just doesn’t seem to be there.”
“Gentlemen, I need a comfort level here,” said Sarge. “Tonight, I host the Governor’s Ball, and I plan on making a push for another Constitutional Convention. I’ll be meeting with several key, influential governors in the Oval this afternoon. I want to be able to represent to them that the bill will die tomorrow and we can turn our focus toward a convention.”
The two congressmen looked at one another and nodded. The Majority Whip answered for them both. “Mr. President, we are unified in opposition to the bill. Where there is unity, there is victory. We’ll do what we do best—whip.”
There were three stages of whipping. The most basic starting point was a simple head count. The Majority Whip instructed his staffers to contact the members of his party’s coalition and ask how they’re gonna vote.
If the vote appeared to be close, like this one, the whip would move on to the second stage, in which the deputy whips were assigned to approach fence-sitters and hear out their concerns. If the sticking point couldn’t be easily addressed, then the negotiations began. Side deals were made and accommodations promised.
The third and final whip occurred the day before a vote, or in the case of an afternoon vote, as was the case in the House version of the Pacific Statehood Act, the whip deputies would approach their particular target in the morning and close the deal.
Whipping could be a delicate business. If you whipped members of your party too early, they might change their mind. If the deputy whips got too heavy-handed, they might alienate a favorable voter.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said Sarge as he indicated the meeting was over. “Crack that whip. No surprises, please.”
Chapter 8
10:45 a.m.
The Oval Office
The White House
Washington, DC
Donald and Sarge were left alone, and both men stood in silence as they observed the snow fall. Sarge tried not to show concern over the vote, as he’d asked Donald to run point on this and he didn’t want to display a lack of confidence in his old friend. But something troubled him and it wasn’t just the two expected defections. He’d come to learn that sometimes powerful hands pulled the strings of the puppets on the stage. He’d learned that firsthand. Sarge knew full well he wasn’t the only puppetmaster in town.
Sarge took a sip of his coffee drink before addressing Donald. “Whadya think?”
“Look, we’ve been through this before. You get your ducks in a row and then you get nervous that one of them will lose their way. I know there’s a lot riding on this House vote. Like you, I don’t want to leave it up to the Senate. There are at least half a dozen backstabbers over there that could upend our agenda.”
Sarge slid into his chair and set his drink down on the leather inlay. He suddenly remembered the thousand times Betty had admonished him for leaving rings on his desk and he quickly looked for a folder to use as a coaster. One marked classified provided what he needed.
“Stay on top of those two,” said Sarge as he nodded toward the door the congressmen used to exit. “I get the sense they’re treating this like any other legislation—if it fails, try again later. There won’t be another chance. If it passes or gets punted to the next session, we may witness the unraveling of all our accomplishments following the collapse.”
“I understand,” said Donald, who appeared dejected.
Sarge stood and patted his friend on the back. “Listen, old buddy. Whatever happens, I won’t blame you for it. You can’t press the nay button for them. I’d just hate to see our work here be defined by our inability to restore the Union. No matter what, I’m proud we’ve stood on our principles and not capitulated to those who want to go back to the old ways that got us in trouble to begin with.”
“Okay.” Donald attempted to cheer up, but Sarge sensed his nerves were filling him with negativity.
“Let me ask you something else,” started Sarge. “Forget about political parties and past presidents with their social agendas for a minute. Let’s look at this from a purely economic perspective.”
Sarge grabbed his coffee and joined Donald at the couches. He took another sip of the now chilled brew and then downed it completely.
Donald began speaking while Sarge finished his last sip. “You mean in the sense of who gains from reunification financially? Then if tha
t’s the question, we do, um, I mean the Boston Brahmin do. But then again, we gain even if the bill fails. You know I try to cover us financially on all sides.”
“I do, and frankly, I don’t know how the hell you do it. Chief of Staff is taxing enough, but you’ve managed to keep an eye on the finances at the same time.”
“Well, Malcolm Lowe and 73 Tremont have helped tremendously. You and I had to be careful to avoid even the appearance of impropriety. Thankfully, your real position of power has never been exposed.”
“Donald, think for a moment. Who are some of the other players out there who stand to gain politically or financially from reunification under the dictates provided in this bill?”
Donald thought for a moment before responding. “Politically, it’s obvious. Those on the left loyal to the former administration who’ve oppose your agenda will enjoy an instant majority in both chambers when these four states are brought back in. Naturally, you’ll be out of office, but the country might head back to its pre-collapse mindset.”
“Okay, what about financially?” asked Sarge.
“Wow,” replied Donald as he sank onto the couch. “To answer that, we’d have to follow the money. You always consider the usual suspects. Soros comes to mind. He’d find a way to profit and gain political clout to move us towards the European Socialist model.”
Sarge leaned forward on the couch and studied his empty coffee cup. “Some of the Bilderbergs could be the answer. I don’t know. Something’s not right. I can feel it.”
