Levels of Power

by Mike Gilmore

  There was a light round of laughter from the friends in the room. Tom looked at Randy but spoke to the group. “We can end this today, but we have to get the three Davids to trust us. I have been waiting for Randy to get back from England because he has a close relationship with all three senators. Can you get the floor away from them, Randy?”

  Randy was looking over Tom’s wide shoulders out the window. “Who has the floor now?”

  Mace answered for the group. “If they are still maintaining the same schedule, then John Laird will take over at eight o’clock.”

  Randy nodded. “I can work with John. He’s a good man.” He paused for a few moments and looked around the group. “A lot of the American public still supports this bill. We need to present a case that builds trust with the three Republican senators so they’ll allow me to have the floor and at the same time change the public opinion about the bill.” He paused again to organize his thoughts. “Here is what we are going to do.”

  Randy’s thoughts about the earlier meeting in Tom’s office were broken when Senator Doaks suddenly stood at his bench seat. In a voice still full of authority, he asked if Senator Laird would yield to a question.

  Senator Laird stopped his speech and looked over at his fellow Republican. He was wary of another ploy by the minority leader to take the floor away.

  Randy stood at his Senate seat across the aisle from John Laird. “Will Senator Laird yield to a question from a Democrat?”

  A small smile appeared on John’s tired face. “The senator yields for a question from his friend from South Carolina.”

  Randy turned slightly and observed the frown on Senator Doaks face as the minority leader sat down.

  Randy turned back to Senator Laird. “Let me first apologize for my absence from the important work undertaken in the Senate Chamber. It was unavoidable.”

  He waited a moment and then asked the man across the aisle his question. “Senator Laird. I find myself siding with your position against the president’s Fair Share bill. I must ask the good senator if you have an end-game strategy to stop this bill.”

  Randy remained standing while John Laird prepared his response. “Our strategy is to prevent this bill from progressing any further in the Senate. We are determine that this bill die right here on the Senate floor.”

  Randy nodded in understanding. “If I pledge my support to your cause, will you yield the floor to me?”

  Laird was quiet for several moments. The Senate Chamber was very quiet, even the packed visitor gallery. “Will Senator Fisher pledge to continue the filibuster with Senators Saunders, Hanley, and myself until we have enough support?”

  Randy smiled back at Senator Laird. “You have my pledge, sir. Therefore, I ask you, will you yield the floor to me?”

  John Laird looked carefully at the Democratic senator. He wanted to bring Randy Fisher into their camp along with any other Senate members Fisher could bring with him. Randy had a strong reputation for bringing opposing sides together to a satisfactory agreement on many issues. He wished Saunders and Hanley were in the chamber. They would indicate their willingness to risk losing the Senate floor.

  He waited almost a full sixty seconds. He looked around the Senate Chamber and up into the visitor gallery. The news reporters filled their seats. As he looked around the gallery, he noticed that very few seats were empty in the sections reserved for foreign dignitaries and the public.

  He was about to look back to Senator Fisher when a familiar face in the foreign dignitary section caught his attention. He had to look twice to make sure the smiling face of Annie Fisher was looking down at him. Annie was sitting next to Ambassador Hordern; she gave a very small wave of her hand. That helped to make up his mind.

  “The senator yields the floor to Senator Randy Fisher.”

  Gasp, groans, moans, and applause broke out around the chamber and up in the gallery. The president pro tem slammed the gavel down several times to restore order as John Laird gratefully sat down in his bench seat. Thinking quickly, he summoned a page girl standing at the back of the Senate to come to his desk. He whispered a few words into her ear, and she turned quickly for the closest exit door from the chamber.

  Randy Fisher waited until the noise level in the chamber returned to normal. He took the time to look around the chamber and up into the gallery. He was happily surprised to see Annie and his aunt Frances sitting next to the British ambassador. He sent them a wink and looked back at the senators around the chamber.

  A quorum was required to conduct business, and the Senate leaders had worked out a schedule to maintain the required number of senators inside the Senate Chamber during the filibuster. However, as planned by the group in Tom Evans’s office, more members were slowly making their way into the chamber. Randy was about to speak when he noticed Senator Hanley make her entrance back into the chamber. She had only left a few minutes ago. She stopped briefly to speak to Senator Laird and then moved over to her own seat.

  “Thank you, Senator Laird. I can appreciate the hard work you, Senators Hanley, and Saunders have done over the past several days. To take on a bill submitted by the White House and approved by the House of Representatives by a large majority is no easy task. To take on a bill that has received a high favorability rating from the American public is not done without a lot of forethought.

  “I have to ask the members of the Senate why this bill is necessary. Why is it important to the president to force American companies to pay more taxes via this particular method?”

  Randy waited for a few moments; he noticed more senators walking into the chamber.

  In the White House, presidential press secretary Alison Warden hurried into the Oval Office. The president and his chief of staff were receiving an update from the director of national intelligence about the terrorist attack in London.

  “Mr. President. Senator Laird had yielded the floor of the Senate.”

  Miller sighed with relief. “Well, it’s about time. Now Doaks can move the bill to the Senate Finance Committee.”

  Alison shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. Senator Laird turned the floor over to Senator Fisher.”

  “What?” He turned to the DNI. “You just told me Fisher was at the water reservoir south of London. How the hell can he be on the floor of the Senate?”

  The president did not wait for a reply. “Turn the television on to C-SPAN. Let’s see what that little bastard is up to now.”

  Alison picked up the television remote and pressed the power button. The television’s tuner was already set to C-SPAN and the Senate Chamber. The screen quickly showed them the floor of the Senate. They could hear Senator Fisher talking.

  Randy Fisher was listing reasons why the president was behind this bill. “We know the president is required to reveal his campaign finance fund balances. He had a sizeable war chest already in the bank for his reelection campaign. What he doesn’t have in the bank is votes.”

  Randy paused briefly. “How do you move your image more toward the center of the political spectrum and draw more votes from the majority of the American voters?

  “How about passing a bill to force big business to pay more taxes? Every American who pays their fair share of taxes wants to hear that someone has finally put their thumb down on big business. Yes, that will bring in the votes for the president next November. That will get him another four years in office.”

  In the Oval Office Harold Miller was red-faced with anger. “I’ll bury that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  Fisher was holding up his copy of the Corporate America Fair Share Tax Bill. “A lot of Americans want the big corporations to pay more taxes, but is this the right way to make it happen?”

  Randy continued to hold up the ninety-seven-page bill. “This bill is like a patient with a compound leg fracture. The doctor, bandaging the wound, keeps applying more disinfectant. However,
the leg needs real attention. It needs surgery to repair the damage, not more Band-Aids, and medical tape.”

  Randy paused again as he prepared to move into the next part of his speech. “American corporations didn’t pass the current tax laws. No doubt, they had their paid lobbyists working behind the scenes trying to insert tax loopholes into the system, but they were not on the floor of the Senate or the House of Representatives. We were or the men and women who came before us.”

  Randy reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out several sheets of papers prepared quickly by Renee Stockli and Brad Guilliams. “This is a summary of a bill entered into the House of Representatives nine years ago. It is a bill dealing with farm subsidies when the south and southwest of our country were struggling with the effects of the terrible drought that lasted almost two years. It was so bad the water level in Lake Lanier north of Atlanta was thirty-five feet below normal levels. The city was so pressed for water the mayor and council members were discussing having rolling water shutoffs around the city. In Texas, the water levels were so low they passed laws to replace plumbing fixtures with low-water-usage fixtures. The water utilities were paying people to replace high-usage toilets and faucets with models that used far less.

  “Our farmers were no less hurt by the water shortage, so the House of Representatives took up this bill to provide financial relief so they could plant new crops the next year. It was a very favorable bill at the time since it assisted American farmers when they really needed it.

  “But how many people know about the amendment added on to the bill here in the Senate and passed by the House? It had nothing to do with farm subsidies but with tax deductions for big business. It was very simple. Corporations could set up a subsidiary in a country with a low tax rate and claim a large percent of their expenses for manufacturing in that country. Their income would be higher in a country with a low tax rate structure. They’d save hundreds of thousands of dollars in taxes back here in the United States.”

  Randy paused to take a few breaths and then continued his remarks. “Kind of sneaky, I think. Something that politicians used to do years ago in back rooms filled with thick cigar smoke.”

  He flipped through the pages of the summary still in his hand. “I was wondering who would sponsor this bill. In the House of Representatives, several members supported the amendment, all of whom are still there except for Leonard Graham. He was the speaker of the House at the time. He retired several years ago. Larry Frey received the support of the House members to be the new speaker. I have worked with Speaker Frey. He is a good man and worthy of his position.

  “On the Senate side were a few members. I will not list their names except for one key person involved in the amendment. It was the senior senator from New York—senator then … president now.”

  Randy paused to allow his words to be absorbed both by the other senators in the chamber and by the viewing audience in the Senate gallery and over C-SPAN.

  “If the president wanted to do something about making large corporations pay their fair share, why did he support this amendment nine years ago?”

  Randy tossed the pages down on his desktop. “I think we need a new federal income tax structure for corporations and for the American public. One that is fair to all.”

  He looked around the Senate Chamber as he continued. “The current tax code is many hundreds of pages long. Far too large for the average person to read. I think we need to create a personal federal income tax code that is fewer than one hundred pages long so every American can take a weekend to sit down on their front porch swing and read it. I think we need a corporate federal tax code for US corporations and foreign businesses operating in our country that is fewer than one hundred pages long so they do not need an army of professionals to tell them how to avoid paying taxes. It’s really that simple, folks, but it will take time to do it correctly.”

  Randy picked up the copy of the Corporate America Fair Share Bill. “We don’t need another Band-Aid like this.” He lifted the top lid of his Senate desk and dropped the bill inside. He allowed the lid to drop down against the desk. The sound was loud in the quiet Senate Chamber.

  Randy looked around the room. During the time he had been speaking, many of the absent senators had returned and taken their seats. He saw Senator Saunders sitting beyond Hanley and Laird. The senator was only a year or two older than Randy was, and he gave the South Carolina senator a little head bob and small smile.

  “I’m not in favor of the Fair Share Bill. I think this body should vote not to send it to the Finance Committee. Do you agree with me? If you do, stand at your desk.”

  Almost immediately, the three Davids rose together. Senators Evans, Mace, Anderson, and Richards, along with a few more scattered around the room came to their feet.

  Randy put a polite smile on his face. “We’re not going home today unless we stop this now. I will ask again. Do we have the votes?”

  This time more senators rose from their chairs to stand behind their desk. Randy would have guessed enough were now standing to allow the vote to take place, but he wanted more of a showing.

  “Now is not the time to be timid. Now is the time to show America that we will not stand for this type of politics ever again. I will ask one more time. Do we have the votes?”

  The chamber floor filled with standing bodies as a large majority came to their feet. Randy looked down the chamber toward Tom Evans, who gave him a smile and a little nod.

  Randy turned to the president pro tem. “Ms. Pro Tem. I yield the floor to allow the United States Senate to vote for or against sending the question before us to the Finance Committee.”

  Chapter 58

  Washington, DC

  Friday, December 4, 2015

  12:15 p.m.

  Harold Miller was having a quiet lunch alone. It was rare not to have lunch guests to discuss important matters of state or receive a briefing from a senior staff member. In fact, he had canceled his scheduled lunch plans to have this brief time alone.

  His plan had failed. Perhaps it would make reelection more difficult; the press would review the old farm subsidies bill and pass judgment on his involvement to their viewers.

  Earlier, the director of national intelligence had quickly completed his briefing on the London terrorist attack and left the Oval Office. Miller’s only instruction was for the DNI to provide every piece of information about Fisher’s role in the affair. Maybe there would be something to use against the senator later.

  Alison Warden and Warren Fletcher, alone with the president, had expressed their disappointment in the bill’s failure. It had been Alison’s idea to send the Fair Share Bill to the Congress, but Harold had fully embraced the plan. She had offered her apology and even hinted that he might want her resignation, but Harold had only offered a small smile and told her they would just regroup and come back fighting tomorrow.

  Warren Fletcher listed a few things they could do to soften the political blow the Miller Administration had just taken. He spoke to both the president and Alison, but Miller just sat quietly as his press secretary made notes in her portfolio.

  Fisher. The man had been a constant thorn in his side ever since he came to Washington. After his first burst of outrage, Harold had sat in the Oval Office almost in a trace as the man had calmly spoken on the floor of the Senate where Harold had spent many years. In the very short time he spoke from his Senate desk, Randy Fisher had unraveled months of carefully planned work to move Miller’s image toward the center of the American political spectrum.

  He remembered Tom Evans’s face after the Senate president announced the vote. He revealed a small smile, knowing the president had just lost a major vote and would experience a setback in the election process. Already Evans had told the reporters outside the Senate chambers he was heading back to the campaign trail.

  Miller was having half a BLT sandwich with a bowl of
tomato basil soup, along with a cup of coffee, at the Resolute Desk in the Oval office. He scanned the calendar desk pad, even though he had the primary election schedule memorized. The Iowa caucuses were only a few weeks away. He was running unopposed and would win the Republican vote. Evans, facing at least eight or nine other Democratic candidates, was expecting to pull out a solid victory.

  He removed the pen from his suit coat pocket and wrote a few notes. He would need to get Lewis Drake, his campaign manager, into a meeting very quickly. They would need to work out a new strategy.

  Chapter 59

  Harrisburg, PA

  Friday, December 4, 2015

  12:50 p.m.

  The two-story brick Tudor home on the outskirts of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, was set back on a deep lot. The closest homes on both sides were almost a half-mile away. The well-tended front lawn next to the city street was lined with Douglas firs that prevented passing motorists and people walking along the street from seeing very much of the expensive home.

  Former Speaker of the House Leonard Graham was just finishing his lunch. There was only one guest at the table, plus his wife of many years. After dinner, the servants removed the dishes, and his wife went to her study to make some telephone calls.

  Leonard walked beside his guest as they returned to his study, located on the other end of the house. Mrs. Graham would not disturb them in their work.

  Barbara Harrison took a seat at the Queen Anne desk set at a ninety-degree angle to Leonard’s own expensive wooden desk. Both desks had a computer, but Barbara’s was a laptop version that would leave with her. They also had a telephone with separate lines to allow both to make calls, as well, of course, as their smart phones. It was an age of technology, and they were just as adept as everyone else was.

  Barbara flipped her long, thick, luxurious blond hair back over her shoulder as she opened her portfolio to write down Leonard’s instruction. The thirty-three-year-old beauty was five feet three inches tall and with Leonard Graham had watched the C-SPAN coverage on the television in Leonard’s study. They had quietly listened to the comments of Senator Randy Fisher as he destroyed the president’s Fair Share Bill.