by Jason Pinter
Remy opened the Gazette app on his phone and waited for it to load. When he saw the headline, he actually gasped. He dove into the first chair in the main cabin and began to read.
Leaked Emails Show Bertrand, RNC, Covered Up Pay-For-Play Kickbacks
“The Governor sold out his constituents.” —Senator Annabelle Shaw
by Peter Drummond, Daily Wire
In one of the most extraordinary political hacks in history, the Internet activist group known as PoliSpill last night released thousands of emails obtained from Republican National Committee servers, including dozens sent to and from Louisiana governor and presidential hopeful Richard Bertrand. Included in the email dump were numerous correspondences between Bertrand, his lieutenants, and senior RNC party officials, including RNC chair Bryce Alvin, the most damning of which seem to confirm that Bertrand bestowed numerous perks and even pushed legislature to benefit donors who had contributed large sums of money to Bertrand’s election efforts.
Walter Tollefson, CEO of Tollefson Pharmaceuticals, contributed nearly two and a half million dollars to Bertrand’s gubernatorial campaign as well as Super PACs supporting Bertrand between 2008 and 2014. Tollefson was then granted at least twelve separate meetings with Bertrand and his staff over that period of time. Six months ago, Bertrand granted an exclusive contract worth in excess of fifty million dollars to Tollefson Pharmaceuticals for drugs to help combat the Zika virus as it spread in Louisiana. To date, there have been over twenty reported cases of Zika in New Orleans. One of the leaked emails also shows correspondence between Bertrand and Florida governor Dick Samuels, in which Bertrand seems to be attempting to convince Samuels to offer Tollefson a similar contract. In the heavily Zika-exposed South Florida region, such a deal could be worth multiples of the one Bertrand signed for Louisiana.
Spokespeople for Richard Bertrand, Bryce Alvin, and Governor Samuels did not respond to requests for comments by press time.
Doug Rimbaud, campaign manager for Senator Annabelle Shaw, the current Democratic frontrunner for president, said in a statement:
“It is no secret that pay-to-play schemes have been a toxic part of Washington for years. But now Richard Bertrand and the entire Republican Party seek to bring this kind of explicit and shameful bribery directly to the White House. It is very clear from these emails that, if elected, Richard Bertrand would likely sell the Oval Office to the highest bidder.”
When asked about the potential dangers in a foreign collective such as PoliSpill possibly influencing the election, Mr. Rimbaud declined to comment. However, GOP Senate Majority Leader Isaac Connell cautioned the Shaw campaign’s exuberance.
“Any attempt by a foreign entity to influence this election should be taken with the utmost sincerity and caution. If PoliSpill is working to undermine the Bertrand campaign, we must ask what their motives are.”
Rebecca Blum, campaign manager for billionaire businessman and populist Mayflower Party candidate Rawson Griggs, whose unprecedented campaign has him maintaining a small lead among most national polls, said, “From the moment Mr. Griggs stood inside Griggs Tower and declared his candidacy, he has told the truth. Americans are being sold out, lied to, and kept in the dark by politicians who place their own selfish interests above the nation. Rawson Griggs is not a politician. And any attempt by the Shaw campaign to pretend to be above the muck is laughable. We have no doubt that skeletons in her closet will not stay hidden much longer.”
Responding to the concerns about possible foreign intervention in the upcoming election, Blum added, “However this information was obtained does not matter. Everything in them is true. The American people deserve to know the truth, regardless of the messenger.”
Remy read the entire article, then remembered to breathe. Ken Murphy turned on the large screen television at the front of the cabin and tuned it to NBC. Alena went into the master bedroom without saying a word, closing the door behind her. A promo spot ran featuring Matt Lauer and Savannah Guthrie.
“At the top of the hour,” Lauer said, “we’ll be covering the explosive report in today’s Daily Wire that alleges Pay-for-Play dealings within the Republican Party that could have disastrous consequences for GOP frontrunner Richard Bertrand.”
Murphy turned to ABC.
After a few commercials, a promo ran featuring George Stephanopoulos.
“On today’s show, we’ll dive into the bombshell report that has the GOP in tatters, the Democrats cheering, but seemingly everyone else turning towards the upstart third party Mayflower candidate Rawson Griggs. What this means for the presidential race, on today’s Good Morning America.”
Murphy turned to another cable channel. A heavily made up anchor with shiny, black, immovable Lego hair said, “Can liberalism be linked to autism? Our investigation may shock you.”
“Damn. I was hoping for a clean cable news sleep,” Murphy said.
“It doesn’t matter. Bertrand’s poll numbers will be halved by next week,” Rawson said. “If he drops out, Bobby Garrett of Wisconsin will become the presumptive nominee. Garrett has been a punching bag for the unions his entire career. And the conservative base likes him as much as they like eczema. Plus, he looks like a flaming doofus. He’ll never top eighteen percent in a three-way poll.”
“So it’s really between us and Annabelle Shaw,” Remy said.
Rawson tapped his chin. “I want a rally in Louisville within the next two weeks. Shift things around if need be. I want to go right where Shaw lives and steal her supporters from under her nose. Let the Bertrand campaign swing in the wind. Shaw might stick around. The DNC has a boatload of cash to throw around, and Wall Street loves her. But this will send a message that we will take the fight to her doorstep.”
Remy said, “I’ll get on with Rebecca and Jerry to plan it as soon as we take off.”
“Let Jerry handle it,” Rawson said. “You’ve had a long few days. Take a rest.”
The comment caught Remy by surprise. Something was wrong. Between the early meeting last night, and now being told to rest, it was clear Remy was being pushed aside. Could he know about Doug Rimbaud? O’Brien? Alena?
“With all due respect, Mr. Griggs, I’m here to work, and I’m here to win.”
Rawson turned to Remy. He acted surprised.
“Is that right? You’re here to win?”
“I gave up my life for this campaign. You know the answer to that question.”
He seemed to consider this, then said, “Alright, winner. Get on the horn with Jerry. Schedule Louisville. The PoliSpill news throws a massive wrench into the first Republican debate, which is in three weeks. Remy, I want you, Rebecca, and Jerry to set up a policy speech on the night of the first GOP debate. Prepare for a monster.”
“Where?” Remy said.
“Los Angeles. I want a large venue. A statement venue. California is a Democratic stronghold. I want to plant a flag there.”
“Is a statement venue really appropriate for a policy speech?” Remy said. “Maybe somewhere a little more stately?”
“This won’t be just a policy speech. I also want to put on our own pre- and post-debate shows to stream online.”
“Most channels have the Republican debate locked on their schedule,” Remy said. “Advertisers have paid nearly seventy-five thousand dollars for thirty second spots on the pre- and post-debate analysis shows. Nobody will run our event live.”
“I don’t want them to run it,” Rawson said. “I just want to carve up the network audience. Then we threaten to run events on the nights of every Republican and Democratic debate going forward.”
“Their ad rates will plummet,” Murphy said.
“Exactly. And then they’ll have no choice but to run our events instead of the debates. Maybe not every station, but enough. We hold their feet to the fire. More coverage of the Griggs campaign or we gut their ad revenue to the point where they won’t be able to afford a green room.”
“The networks will be pissed,” Murphy said. “Advertisers will be up in arms
when the ratings come in.”
“And they will blame the networks, and force them to run what will draw higher ratings. Namely, us.”
If Rawson could threaten the networks’ bottom line, Remy thought, they’d be at his beck and call.
“Free media,” Rawson said. “Ten times more powerful than the money these jokers are wasting on ads. And trust me, Los Angeles won’t be a simple policy speech. We’re going to give people something to remember.”
Remy tried to sleep, and failed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the PoliSpill news and Rawson’s speech in Los Angeles. He had to admit, Rawson’s plan was brilliant. He was gutting the Republican candidates who were already on thin ice after the Bertrand news. And strong-arming the networks, threatening their revenues, would force them to give Griggs even more coverage.
Despite this, it didn’t sit well. Paul Bracewell had been buried less than twenty-four hours. Rawson’s mourning lasted less than a full news cycle. It all coalesced into a stew that roiled in Remy’s gut.
A flight attendant took food and drink orders. Remy wasn’t hungry but figured he should eat something. He ordered a western omelet with a cup of strong coffee. The coffee was better than the omelet.
An hour later, Remy noticed Rawson head towards the back of the plane. He entered the bedroom where Alena was resting. Remy heard muffled shouting and ten minutes later they both exited. Alena looked angry, her face puffy, raw. She sat down across the aisle from Remy and closed her eyes.
He leaned towards her and whispered, “Hey, how are you?”
She turned towards him and offered a soft smile.
“I’ll be okay,” she said.
Remy placed his hand on his empty armrest. Alena did the same on her seat. An unspoken gesture. Then Remy saw Rawson bolt from his seat.
“Put on CNN,” Rawson barked. “Now.”
Murphy put the television on. Wolf Blitzer was reporting. A chyron at the bottom of the screen read BREAKING NEWS.
“In breaking news this morning, we have learned of developments that promise to shake up not just the presidential race, but potentially the entire Republican party. Well-placed sources tell us that following a bombshell report in the Daily Wire, courtesy of leaked emails from the hacker collective PoliSpill, which detailed pay-to-play deals between Governor Richard Bertrand of Louisiana and a large campaign donor, that Richard Bertrand will be tendering his resignation as Governor of Louisiana, as well as suspending his presidential campaign. This comes as federal authorities, including the Department of Justice, are set to begin an official investigation into his dealings that led to tens of millions of dollars in federal contracts Bertrand gave to Walter Tollefson, a Bertrand donor. We also hear that RNC chair Alvin is under heavy pressure from not only the Democrats, but from some within his own party, to resign as well.
“If Bertrand does suspend his campaign, this would leave Senator Annabelle Shaw of Kentucky as the Democratic frontrunner with the GOP in absolute turmoil. In recent polls, Shaw has begun to inch closer to frontrunner Rawson Griggs. Shaw, however, still maintains almost record unpopularity even within her own party. Yet the GOP candidates next in line to take Bertrand’s place atop the ticket have all been polling significantly lower than Governor Bertrand.
“This news may benefit third party Mayflower candidate Rawson Griggs the most, as his anti-Washington message gains more fuel. Yet as former New York City Mayor Phillip Costanzo said in an early morning tweet, “This is just the beginning. The Griggs train is going full speed ahead, and anyone in its way is getting run off the track.’
“Needless to say,” Blitzer continued, “the mood this morning inside the Castle has to be jubilant.”
Remy saw Rawson pump his fist.
“Gretchen,” he shouted. A young, nervous-looking flight attendant appeared. “I have a bottle of Krug 1928 on ice in the galley. Break it open. A glass for everyone on board.”
Gretchen skittered back towards the galley, and moments later they all had full glasses of ice-cold champagne in their hands.
“To Governor Bertrand,” Rawson said. “And this is before they see what we have in store for them in L.A.”
Remy sipped his glass, knowing full well Rawson was behind the leaks that just destroyed an entire campaign. He looked at Alena, still wearing her wedding ring, wondered how far Rawson Griggs was willing to go.
The Boeing glided through the air, the blue and gold paint shimmering in the early afternoon light. It touched down at LAX, hitting the runway smoothly, bouncing briefly before slowing down. It came to a halt in the middle of the runway in front of several hundred Griggs supporters who had been waiting for the arrival of the frontrunner for president of the United States.
They had been waiting on the tarmac for hours, cordoned off behind velvet ropes like they were awaiting entrance to an exclusive club. A red carpet stretched out like an impossibly long tongue. A phalanx of reporters and camera crews jockeyed for position. Even in a city packed with celebrities, Rawson Griggs drew crowds to rival any of them.
The front door opened and the stairs descended, coming to rest at the foot of the red carpet. Ten campaign volunteers bounded down the steps as baggage handlers opened the cargo hold. They removed dozens of boxes, laid them on the ground, and opened them to reveal several hundred copies of Rawson Griggs’s bestselling book Be Bold, Be Loud, Be a Beast. Each volunteer grabbed a box of books and handed out copies along the red carpet. The crowd squealed with delight, holding the books in the air like they were winning lottery tickets.
Then Rawson Griggs appeared at the top of the stairwell, and the onlookers erupted in screams and applause. The chants of “Rawson! Rawson!” were loud enough to drown out arriving planes.
Rawson waited at the top of the stairs, smiling, waving, a king surveying his subjects. A slight breeze caused his tie to flutter. Then Rawson held up one finger dramatically and reached back into the cabin.
Wait for it.
He pulled out a fire engine red THE BEAST WITHIN! hat and held it aloft dramatically, like a golfer tipping his cap to the gallery. The crowd cheered as he placed it on his head.
Remy watched Rawson work the crowd from inside Griggs Force One with a sense of awe and detached amusement. Rawson took his time walking the red carpet. He shook hands, signed books, posed for selfies, and kissed babies.
Remy, Murphy, and Alena waited inside the plane. They’d been instructed to wait until Rawson reached the waiting limousine before deplaning, so as not to take attention from the candidate.
“Hail to the king,” Murphy said.
“May he live forever,” Remy added.
Alena was scheduled to leave the plane second, after her father. Her hair brushed against Remy’s cheek as she peered out the window. Remy could tell she’d retouched her makeup before landing, applied a little perfume. She smelled like jasmine. She looked beautiful. Her spirits appeared to have lifted in the weeks since Paul’s death. Focusing on the campaign noise allowed her to drown out the sorrow. She and Remy texted day and night, shared mini bar cocktails in hotel rooms to avoid the press—and the loneliness—pinged each other on social media to the point where people grew suspicious.
“You know, I never got a red carpet when I flew Southwest,” Remy said.
“My dad knows their CEO,” she said. “He can put in a good word. But come on, the movie options suck when you fly commercial.”
“Plus you don’t get gold toilets.”
She laughed. “You mean not all plans have gold toilets?”
“Only the really classy ones.”
Alena looked at Remy. “I want you to walk out with me,” she said.
Remy was surprised. “But your father said…”
“I know what my father said. I want you to walk out with me. Walking alone just feels depressing. This is a happy occasion. I don’t want anyone’s sympathy, and I don’t want photos with captions calling me a sad widow. I’d like to walk beside a friend.”
Remy smiled a
nd put his arm around her.
“I’d be honored,” he said.
A black stretch limo waited at the end of the red carpet. Once Rawson finished on the red carpet, he got in. Alena walked to the front of the plane. Remy joined her.
“Ready?” she said.
“After you, my queen.”
Alena stepped onto the stairway and Remy followed her. There was a hush, then a gasp, and then the crowd cheered like they were William and Kate. They strolled down the red carpet, arm-in-arm, and the crowd lining the red carpet ate it up. Remy knew this footage would be on all the news broadcasts.
Once they got to the limo, the rest of the contingent exited the plane to far less fanfare and they all headed to their destination.
Rawson said to Alena, “I thought I told you that when you followed me, you were to walk alone.”
Alena said, “I changed my mind. I didn’t want to walk alone.”
“This campaign is not a democracy.”
“You might run the campaign, but not me,” she replied icily. “I asked Remy to walk with me. And he said yes.”
Rawson took out his cell phone. The conversation was over.
At least this will be the most uncomfortable part of the night, Remy thought.
He could not have been more wrong.
The Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles was a grand outdoor arena that seated nearly twenty thousand people. In its seventy-five-year history, the Bowl had hosted legendary artists such as Louis Armstrong, The Rolling Stones, Ella Fitzgerald, Elton John, and The Beatles. And Rawson Griggs had chosen the Bowl to hold his historic rally, the first in the venue’s storied history.
The distinctive and massive semi-circular amphitheater shell sat below the iconic Hollywood Hills. Its architecture drew influence from the famous amphitheaters of ancient Greece and Rome. The shell itself was filled with hollow fiberglass spheres, which were designed by Frank Gehry, giving the Bowl incredible acoustics. They added visual flair to one of the most stunning arenas in the country. Green trees flanked the stage on either side. The hills were flecked with green and brown, the setting sun a gorgeous gold. The air was warm and inviting.
