2
WHEN THE PRESIDENT ENTERED HIS OFFICE, he found Garret and his budget director, Mark Dickson, sitting on a couch by the fireplace, poring over the prospective vote count, trying to figure out whom they could sway to their side. Stevens knew his chief of staff was in a bad mood, and he did not have the energy for an argument. So he decided to defuse the situation and take orders. As he walked over to them, he took off his jacket, threw it on the other couch, and clapped his hands together. “All right, Stu, I’m all yours for the rest of the day. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
Garret looked up and motioned for his boss
to take a seat. Garret and Dickson had been in the office since
6 A.M., putting together a final list of possible holdouts. With
one day to go, they had secured 209 votes. The opposition had 216
votes, and ten congressmen were still undecided. Garret had a piece
of paper in front of him with two headings:
UNDECIDED
and
POSSIBLE
DEFECTORS. Ten names were under the undecided heading, and six
under the possible-defectors heading. Both columns had shrunk
considerably in the past week as the vote
approached.
“All right, here’s the current situation,
Jim.” No one but Stu Garret ever called the president by his first
name. “We need to put this thing to bed today. Basset and Koslowski
are up on the Hill playing good cop–bad cop with the fence-sitters.
We’re going to try and start a stampede by noon.” Tom Basset was
the Speaker of the House, and Jack Koslowski was the chairman of
the House Appropriations Committee.
“Are we in a position to do that?” the
president asked.
Garret leaned back in his chair, placed
his hands behind his neck, and smiled. “Tom Basset has a meeting
with Congressman Moore at eleven, and when that meeting is over,
Frank Moore is going to make an announcement that he’s backing the
budget.”
“How much is it going to cost us?” asked
Dickson.
“Only about ten
million.”
“You guys are going to bag Frank Moore for
ten million? That’s nothing more than pocket change to Frank.” The
president shook his head. “How are you going to get him to settle
for so little?”
Garret’s smile emanated confidence. “We
recruited some outside help to get him to see things our
way.”
“What kind of
help?”
Garret paused for a long moment and
replied flatly, “Arthur Higgins arranged to have some photos taken
of the congressman and a certain young
woman.”
Arthur Higgins. There was no more
mysterious name in all of Washington. Stevens seriously wondered
whether it was in his best interest to know any details. Arthur
Higgins was an ominous and legendary figure in the power circles of
Washington and many of the world’s other capitals. For forty years
Higgins had run the most secretive branch of the CIA. Officially he
never existed nor did his department. Higgins had been the author
and controller of the Agency’s most delicate and dangerous covert
operations since the height of the cold war. Several years earlier
he had been forced out of the CIA in a heated power struggle. What
he had been doing with his time and talents since was something
that was whispered about behind closed
doors.
Stevens looked up from the paper and said,
“You’re going to blackmail Frank Moore?”
Garret smiled and said,
“Essentially.”
“I don’t want to know the details, do
I?”
“No.” Garret shook his head. “Just trust
me when I
say Moore will see no other choice than to vote our
way.”
Stevens nodded solemnly and replied, “Next
time, I would prefer it if you would let me know about these things
before they’re set in motion.”
“Understood.” After a brief silence Garret
turned their attention back to the task at hand. “Jim, I need to
get you working on a couple of these possible defectors. Our
staffers have been feeling these guys out, and I think that two of
the six will give us their vote if you promise not to back their
opponent in the next election. Out of the ten undecideds and the
six possible defectors, we’re going to have to get at least nine or
the budget is dead, and if that happens, we may as well kiss next
year’s election good-bye.”
“What about any possible defections from
our side?” the president asked.
Garret leaned forward. “Don’t worry about
that. If one of those little pricks steps out of line, Koslowski
will cut every penny of federal money from their district. We’re
not going to have any traitors.” Besides being chairman of the
House Appropriations Committee, Jack Koslowski was the party’s
chief neck-breaker on the Hill. He was known and feared by all as
one of the roughest players in D.C. “What I need from you this
morning are some real nice down-home phone calls to a couple of
these rookie congressmen, telling them how much their vote would
mean to you and the country. Maybe even invite them over here for
lunch.”
The request was met with a grimace by the
president, but Garret continued, “Jim, I know you don’t like mixing
with the common folk, but if you don’t
get a couple of these
boys to switch over to our side, you’re going to have to do an
awful lot of ass-kissing come election time.” Garret paused, giving
the president time to reflect on unpleasant memories of the
campaign trail. “If everything goes well with Moore, which I’m sure
it will, I want to schedule a press conference at noon to try and
spook the rest of these guys into settling. At the press conference
I want you to stand up and complain about congressional gridlock.
Tell them that you can’t start fixing this nation if they don’t
pass your budget. You know the routine. I wrote a speech for you
last night, and when we’re done with the phone calls, I want to run
through it with you.” Garret hadn’t actually written the speech.
One of his staffers had, but Garret was not one to give credit to
others.
“How do you want him to respond if they
start asking about us buying votes?” asked
Dickson.
“Flat out deny it. Tell them that there
are several congressmen who feel very strongly about getting
certain kinds of economic relief to their districts, which are in
dire need of help. Deny it, deny it, deny it! This thing will all
be over in a couple of days, and then the press will move on to
something else. If they start to lay into you about any frivolous
parts of the bill, just squirm your way out of it, and then look at
your watch and end the press conference. Tell them you have to meet
some diplomats from one of the former Soviet republics.” Garret
quickly jotted down a note to himself. “By the time you go on, I’ll
have an excuse ready.”
The president nodded his head in a
positive manner. He was a professional politician, and Garret
was one of
the best handlers in the business. He trusted Garret completely
when it came to manipulating public
opinion.
Garret stabbed his index finger at the
list of congressmen. “All right, let’s stay focused on the game. I
don’t give a shit what the press thinks, just so long as we get
this budget passed.” Garret picked up a pen and circled three names
under the possible-defectors heading. “Now, Jim, these three boys
are as big hicks as they come. They’re a couple of Mr. Smith Goes
to Washington types. Just like Jimmy Stewart in the movie. All
three are freshmen and are full of ideals. If you call them up and
beat the commander-in-chief drum, I think we can get them to jump
sides. Give them the old ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day, we can’t save
the nation overnight’ speech.” The president nodded his head,
signaling a full understanding of the performance needed. “These
next two guys are the ones I was telling you about. If we promise
not to back their opponents in the next election, they’ll give us
their votes. All they want is a personal guarantee from you . . .
they said they don’t trust my word.” Garret let out a loud laugh.
“Can you imagine that?”
The president and Dickson joined in with
smiles and a couple of chuckles. Garret pressed on. “Now this last
rep is a real nut-bag, and I’m not so sure she’ll play ball.
Koslowski wanted her name on the list. She’s from one of his
neighboring districts in Chicago. She’s a black freshman and she
scares the shit out of me. She’s a bona fide race-baiter. She’ll
call anyone a racist, and I mean anyone. She’d call the pope a
racist if she had the chance. I think in exchange for her vote
she’s going to want to be invited to several high-profile events and be put
on some of the more powerful committees. At which point she will
stand up and call our biggest financial backers racists and
embarrass the shit out of them. I would prefer to avoid having to
deal with her if at all possible.”
The president massaged his fingers. “Why
is she on the list?”
“I told you, Jack put her on there just in
case we need a vote at the last minute. We’re not going to deal
with her unless we absolutely have to. Now let’s get started with
the three rookies.”
The first name at the top of the list was
Michael O’Rourke. The president picked up his pen and stabbed the
tip at O’Rourke’s name. “Michael O’Rourke—where have I heard that
name before?”
Garret looked over at his boss and shook
his head. “I have no idea. He’s a freshman independent from
Minnesota.” Garret glanced down at his notes. “He was on Senator
Olson’s staff before he was elected. He graduated from the
University of Minnesota where he played hockey. After college he
went into the Marine Corps and fought in the Gulf War. It says here
he was leading a squad of Recon Marines behind enemy lines during
the air war conducting target assessment when they saw a coalition
pilot shot down. He and his men rushed to the pilot’s aid and held
off an entire company of Iraqi soldiers until the cavalry showed
up. He was awarded the Silver Star.”
The president continued to stare at the
name and mumbled to himself, “I know I’ve heard that name
before.”
Mark Dickson interjected, “Sir, you may
have read about him in the papers. He’s recently been crowned the
most eligible bachelor in Washington by the social
columnists.”
Stevens stabbed his pen down on the piece
of paper several times. “You’re right. That is where I’ve heard
about him. I caught the secretaries swooning over his picture
several weeks ago. Very handsome young man. We could probably use
that to our advantage. What else do we know about
him?”
Garret looked through some notes that an
assistant had made for him. “He’s thirty-two-years-old and from
Grand Rapids. His family is big in the timber business.” Garret
raised his eyebrows when he looked at the estimated value of the
O’Rourke Timber Company. “They’ve got some serious money. At any
rate, he says he won’t vote for your budget unless all of the
funding for the Rural Electrification Administration is
cut.”
The president let out a loud laugh and
asked, “That’s the only thing he doesn’t like about
it?”
“No.” Garret shook his head. “He says the
whole thing sucks, but he’s willing to sign on to it if, and only
if, you cut the funding for the REA.”
The president frowned at the
word sucks. “That’s ridiculous. We’d lose half the
votes we already have, and we wouldn’t gain more than a
handful.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, let’s call him and find out just
how serious he is when he’s got the president of the United States
breathing down his neck.” Stevens pressed a button on his phone
console. “Betty, would you please get Congressman O’Rourke on the
line for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Stevens looked up from the phone. “What
else can you tell me about him?”
“Not much. He’s an unknown. I’m banking on
the fact that once he hears your voice, he’ll be in such awe that
he’ll roll over like a good-old, smalltown boy.”
O’Rourke was deep in thought when Susan’s
voice came over the intercom. He finished the sentence he was
working on and pressed the intercom button. “Yes, Susan, what is
it?”
“Michael, the president is holding on line
one.”
“Very funny, Susan. I told you I didn’t
want to be bothered. Please, tell the president I’m a little busy
at the moment. I’ll try to get back to him after
lunch.”
“Michael, I’m not kidding. The president
is holding on line one.”
O’Rourke laughed to himself. “Susan, are
you that bored?”
“I’m serious, he’s on line
one.”
O’Rourke frowned at the blinking light and
pressed it. “Hello, this is Congressman O’Rourke.”
The president was sitting behind his desk,
and Stu Garret and Mark Dickson were listening in on the call from
separate phones on the other side of the room. Upon hearing
O’Rourke’s voice, the president enthusiastically said, “Hello,
Congressman O’Rourke?”
Michael leaned forward in his chair when
he heard the president’s familiar voice and said, “Yes, this is
he.”
“This is the president. How are you doing
this morning?”
“Just fine, sir, and how are you?”
O’Rourke closed his eyes and wished Susan would have listened to
him.
“Well, I would be doing a whole lot better
if I could get some of you people over there to back me on this
budget.”
“Yes, I’d imagine you would, sir.”
O’Rourke’s monotone response was followed by a brief
silence.
“You know, Congressman, that’s a beautiful
part of the country you’re from. One of my roommates at Dartmouth
had a little cabin up near Grand Rapids. I spent a week there one
summer and had a fantastic time. That is, with the exception of
those darn mosquitoes. They could pick you up and carry you off
during the middle of the night if you weren’t
careful.”
“Yes, they’re pretty bad at times.”
O’Rourke had yet to show an ounce of emotion in his
voice.
The president pressed on, speaking as if
he and O’Rourke had been friends for years. “Well, Michael, the
reason I’m calling is to tell you that I really need your vote
tomorrow. And before you tell me yes or no, I want to talk to you
about a couple of things.
“I’ve been doing this for over twenty-five
years now, and I remember when I was a freshman representative. I
came here filled with piss and vinegar. I was going to change this
place . . . I was going to make a difference. Well, I quickly
realized that if I didn’t learn to take the good with the bad, I
was never going to get anything done. I’ve been there, Michael. I
know what you’re going through.
“I remember the first presidential budget
I had to vote on. There were some things in that budget that made
me want to vomit. I vowed to fight it, until
some of the older guys
pulled me aside and pointed out that there would never be a budget
that I would completely agree with. I took another look at it, and
then after a closer review, I realized that I agreed with about
eighty percent of the stuff that was in
there.
“Michael, there are four hundred and
thirty-five members in the House of Representatives. There is no
way I will ever be able to send a budget up there that everyone
agrees with. Now, I know you want the REA disbanded, and to be
honest, I’ve wanted to kill the damn program for the past twenty
years, but we’re in a goddamned war here, Michael. If I torpedo the
REA, my budget will be sunk faster than the
Titanic.
I agree with you in
theory. The REA has to go, but in the real world if I want to pass
all the other things that will help make this country a better
place to live, I have to make some compromises. And the REA is one
of those ugly things I have to let slide, so we can achieve what is
best for the country.”
The president paused for effect, and
O’Rourke offered no response.
“Michael, do you understand the position
I’m in? I will never be able to present a budget that will make
everybody happy. I need you to ask yourself if you’re being
realistic. . . . I’m up here taking the heat. I’m running the show,
and if this budget doesn’t get passed, I will be severely hampered
in my ability to put this country back on its feet. I’m asking you
for a big favor. . . . I was in your shoes once before. . . . I
need you to ignore the twenty percent that you don’t like and help
me pass this budget. If you come on board, Michael, I can guarantee
that you’ll go a long way in politics.” Stevens paused to give
O’Rourke some time to think of the ways the president of the
United States could help his career. “What do you say, Michael? Can
I count on your vote tomorrow?”
There was a long, awkward silence as
O’Rourke sat in his office and cursed himself for taking the call.
He did not want to get into a debate with the president right now.
So, true to his typical form, he cut straight to the heart of the
matter. “Mr. President, there is very little that I like about your
budget. My vote will be no tomorrow, and there is nothing that will
change that. I’m sorry to have wasted your time by accepting this
call.” Without waiting for a response, O’Rourke hung
up.