The iCongressman, page 24
part #2 of The Michael Bennit Series Series
“Before we start, I have a question,” Amanda says over our videoconference. “Why are they going to this extreme? I mean, it doesn’t make any sense to me to force people in Congress into a political party’s caucus.”
“This is the most backward thinking organization in the history of the world,” Cisco remarks, starting the explanation. “I’m surprised they face forward when they walk. So when Congress tries something dramatic and unexpected, fear is always the default explanation.”
“To answer the second part,” I continue, “although there’s nothing in the Constitution that specifies it, a two-party system emerged in this country. How we elect our representatives in a winner-take-all format historically has protected that reality, and how we govern is dependent on it.”
“Congress is set up based on a system of a majority and minority party,” Kylie clarifies to the group. “The majority party elects the Speaker of the House who theoretically sets the legislative agenda―”
“And is third in line to the presidency should something happen to the president and vice-president,” Chelsea interrupts.
“Correct, but it’s even deeper than that. The majority sets the House rules through a very important committee. This Rules Committee is effectively controlled by the leadership of both parties, and since they appoint the members, they can replace anyone who is disloyal.”
“And if the independents form a new party?” Brian asks.
“They are counting on the fact that we won’t. Or at least some of us won’t join one and just elect to remain independent and caucus with the Republicans or Democrats. If they siphon off enough off our numbers, we face the same problem we had when it was just Cisco and me.”
“This is giving me a headache,” Vanessa says, rubbing her temple. “Is this even constitutional?”
“I doubt it,” Cisco says. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s a House rules issue, so the courts won’t intervene. They have no business telling us how to conduct our business. Even if they wanted to for some reason, it would take forever to decide even if it went straight to the Supreme Court. We elect the Speaker of the House on January third. There would be no time to undo the damage.”
“So you’re saying the Republicrats are going to succeed in making every one of our icandidates choose a side, knowing many of them will resent becoming a part of the system they campaigned against.” Emilee is taking this very personally. We use the term “Republicrats” when we speak derisively about both parties. It gets used a lot.
“If it passes, yeah.”
“Will it pass?” Peyton asks after taking all this information in. Cisco and I nod simultaneously.
“There’s no reason it wouldn’t during this session,” I explain. Cisco and I will probably be the only two who vote against it.
“There is no way in hell they will agree to join a party caucus—any party,” Amanda states adamantly. She is in a position to know since she was one of my firefighters for them during the campaign. Between her and Emilee, they are familiar with all the people who ran as icandidates.
“Don’t be so sure of that. Yes, they are ideologically different, but all moderate. You worked with them, but you need to remember who we got the list of names from last summer.”
“Viano,” Vanessa answers, seeing my point.
“God, I’m so tired of hearing her name,” Peyton adds with a roll of her eyes.
“Yeah, well, I had to see her face. I met with her over in Alexandria this morning to confirm what I was thinking.”
“I hope you hid the body well,” Kylie says with an evil grin. “I don’t want you to be joining my sister behind bars.” I have thought Kylie would be at least a little upset at the image of her little sister living out scenes from The Shawshank Redemption. Quite the opposite is true. She isn’t shy in vocalizing her hopes that the dog in The Pirates of the Caribbean runs off with the keys to Madison’s jail cell.
“As tempting as that was, she gets to live another day,” I say, returning the smile.
“I’m surprised she’s not pounding your office door down,” Brian quips.
“Uh, I may have left her with the notion that I’m on board with forming this third party. Sometimes letting people hear what they want to hear is the best way to get them off your back.”
“You’d better not be using that tactic with me, Michael,” Kylie interjects from across the room. The comment draws laughs from the room, but I’m pretty sure she was at least partially serious.
“We found out about her plan the night of the election, but I think Viano has been advancing this agenda since the first time we met. Somehow she’s convinced she holds enough control over the incoming icongressmen to pull off creating a third party.”
“Okay, help me out here. If this has been Viano’s plan all along, why does the Speaker think this bill will force all of us into either GOP or Dem ranks?”
“No third party exists, and we have stated categorically what we have no interest in forming one,” Cisco answers. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“So Viano is playing him?” Peyton asks, muting the microphone just long enough to yell at someone I presume is a roommate before turning her attention back at the screen.
Cisco looks at me and I know what he is thinking. We had a lengthy chat following my meeting with the former senator about who could be orchestrating all this. The only image either of us could come up with is the grey haired “Architect” from The Matrix Reloaded.
“Someone has to be manipulating this from behind the scenes,” Kylie concludes. “Viano is a smart woman, and she has connections but is not enough of a player in Washington to do this alone.”
There is a light rap on the door and Blake walks in. In an instant, the feel of the room has an icy edge to it. Blake has the effect on my staff these days.
“So the remaining question is who has enough power, money, and influence to pull that off if it isn’t Viano?” Vanessa poses, doing her best to ignore Blake’s intrusion.
“Jack Reed,” Blake states, closing the heavy oak door behind him. I turn to Chelsea in time to see her clam up. “He’s the founding partner of Ibram & Reed, the country’s largest and richest lobby firm.”
“I know who he is, Blake,” Chelsea scolds.
“That was for the benefit of those fortunate enough not to work in Washington, Chels,” he defends, pointing at the images of Amanda, Emilee, Peyton, and Brian on the screen. “He’s the one pulling the strings.”
“Viano’s lapdog wants to offer his opinion,” Vince taunts.
“No, Vince, dogs are loyal and people like having them around,” Vanessa piles on, about as happy to see Blake as Vince is.
“Is it really prudent to discuss this with him here?” Chelsea asks me. “He’s just going to go running back to Viano and tell her everything we say.” I’m not so sure about that, but Kylie beats me to the punch.
“Let’s find out what he thinks first. So how about it, Blake? How do you know Reed is behind this?” she asks bluntly from over near the window.
“Because, until yesterday, I used to work for him.”
“What?” the group collectively screams, including my four staff members joining us virtually over Skype. I quickly look over at Chelsea who looks like her puppy just died. The wounded look on her face tells me she didn’t know.
“How did you end up getting that job?” Vince asks, seriously looking like he wants to rip Blake’s throat out. He was persona non grata in political circles after turning over the evidence and testifying against my former arch nemesis, so it’s a valid question.
“After my … falling out … with Beaumont, employment in politics was a little hard to come by. My aunt called in a favor or two and got me the job.”
“Okay. Who the hell’s your aunt?” Vanessa sounds like a pissed off interrogator at a big city police department grilling a murder suspect.
“Marilyn Viano,” I say, guessing, but stating it like I wasn’t. He nods at me.
I put two and two together pretty quickly while Kylie and my staff recover from being stunned to launch into a verbal berating of Blake. I hear epithets ranging from “despicable jackass” to “lying piece of crap” being hurled at him.
Everything that has happened since the day I decked him at Arlington National Cemetery is starting to make more sense. Senator Viano has been plucking our strings like a banjo this whole time. I don’t know what her end game is, but it definitely is not combining forces to jointly run a political party.
It also bothers me that Reed is involved, but it qualifies her original statement at breakfast. She mentioned lobbyists, but I think she meant Reed. How he has enough juice to get the Speaker to do his bidding I’ll never know, but his fingerprints are on that bill for sure. The questions are why and where we go from here?
To his credit, Blake is standing there and taking everything my staff is dishing at him without defending himself or ticking down a litany of excuses. There is something to be said for that. Maybe Blake isn’t a lost cause after all. He has credibility problems which he did make worse. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark either.
“Okay, enough,” I demand, putting an end to the verbal caning. “I think you should have shared this information with us long ago, Blake, don’t you?”
Blake hangs his head and stares at the floor, not wanting to meet my stare. “Yes, I should have. I’m sorry.”
“However, you guys all need to realize that he didn’t have to tell us at all. We may have found out eventually, but he stood in this room and faced the fury when lesser men would not have. That takes character and courage, so I think we need to ease up on him for the time being and plan our next move.”
I get grudging approval from some of the staff, along with Cisco and Kylie, although it is clear that others don’t agree. Vince is ready to grab him by his coat and violently defenestrate him. Chelsea is biting her lip so hard she’s practically bleeding.
“So, how do we stop this?” I hear Emilee ask, but I am lost collecting my thoughts.
“Congressman?” Vince asks, trying to get my attention.
I look at Vince, and then take my time to stare each and every person in the room, or joining us virtually from afar, in the eye. The revelations about Blake only add a little more drama to a year that has been a wild journey. We all thought it was over after the election, but now realize this roller coaster just blew through the station for another run. Normally I would welcome an endless ride on Millennium Force at Cedar Point, but this is ridiculous. Oh well, it is what it is.
“We spent our first campaign trying to teach Americans to pay attention to the people they elect. Two years later, it looks as if they started to learn the lesson. Now we have a new crop of students: the people who got elected, and those who think they can control them.”
“Are you implying we use the same lesson plan?” Cisco asks, dubious at the notion of the same “mission profile” working again for this. He may have used teacher’s lingo, but guaranteed he’d rather default to his Texan roots and use his cowboy boots to start kicking people’s asses.
“Sort of. We have built an incredible social media foundation in the country, so let’s leverage it to engage the public and see if we can stir them up. That’s part one.”
“Do you really think you can go the social media route again and expect results?” Kylie asks. She’s right, we may have over-relied on our virtual presence.
“The elites are only now realizing that the country is changing. Good or bad, social media is a fixture for a lot of people, and they have been slow to recognize its effectiveness in communicating and mobilizing them behind a cause. We can only hope they remain ignorant.”
“What’s part two?” Brian asks via Skype.
“Part two entails reaching out to the other independents that will be joining us in January to see how many would jump ship. Then we convince them not to.”
“Okay, I’ll buy into all that,” Amanda concludes. “Is there a part three we should know about?”
“Yeah,” Cisco answers, “we figure out how to give Congress a political wedgie.” Well said.
-FIFTY-TWO-
SPEAKER ALBRIGHT
“That’s because you don’t understand social media, sir,” the intern pronounces with an irritating condescension. “You can’t make things go viral, they just do.”
“Then how has Bennit managed to do it twice?”
“Luck? I don’t know how or why, but people love him and his story. But just because it’s happened twice doesn’t mean it will this time.”
“Let’s hope not,” I say, meaning it.
Michael Bennit is the master of social media. He nearly beat Winston Beaumont exclusively using it, falling only because of some last minute allegations. He trounced his opponents the second time around in a landslide that makes Secretariat’s 1973 win at the Belmont look like a photo finish. Then there’s how he and his icandidates managed to pull out huge victories earlier this month.
“Mister Speaker,” my secretary says from the door. “The majority leader is here to see you.”
“Send him in. Thanks, we’ll continue this later,” I say to the intern who looks like he’s barely hit puberty. He passes Harvey on the way out who gives him a once-over as he leaves.
“You pulling your staff out of high school now?”
“You’d think so. He’s an intern giving me a crash course on social media. I’m trying to figure out how concerned I need to be about Bennit’s latest online blitz garnering too much attention from the American public.”
“Are you thinking of trying to beat him at his own game if it comes to that?”
“No, I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far. We are keeping the media preoccupied with election fallout and Americans are tired of hearing about politics after enduring this last election cycle and have turned to Christmas shopping.”
“So why the cram session?” Harvey asks, an amused look creeping across his face.
“I’m trying to formulate a plan just in case. Unless you have a better idea on how to beat Michael Bennit.”
“I do, actually. With a bat while he sleeps.” He took that literally, but part of me likes the idea.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that. I’m hoping someone does it for me,” I say with a laugh.
“Considering the current political climate in this country, you may get your wish. I’m surprised you’re still here since we’re adjourned for Thanksgiving,” the majority leader says, pulling up a chair and changing the subject. It’s bad form to discuss in detail the desire to see a political enemy lie on the ground in a bloody mess, no matter how much you want it.
It’s Friday, and the last vote was held right after lunch. As tradition dictates before any holiday, the members head for the airport almost immediately after the last business is conducted. The three days before Thanksgiving is a constituent work week back in their districts, but no real work ever gets done.
“Just tying up some loose ends. You?”
“We’re actually heading to Thanksgiving at my brother’s place in Boston, so we figured we’d just stay in D.C. until Wednesday. But enough of my travel plans. I have news.”
“Whatcha got?” I’m somewhat relieved that I didn’t need to hear the gory details of Harvey Stepanik’s itinerary.
“The House Independent Caucus Bill just made it out of committee. Unanimous vote.”
How did it ever come to this? No party outside of the Democrats and Republicans has held a majority in either house of Congress since before Lincoln started the War of Northern Aggression. In fact, they have never even held a significant minority until now. It is just lousy timing that it happens on my watch.
Most third-party or independent candidates choose to caucus with one of the two major parties in exchange for committee assignments or influence. Not this lot. They are being stubborn about breaking ranks, causing a major problem when it will come to selecting the next Speaker of the House. Despite our best attempts, not one has been lured by the carrots we are dangling in front of them. And with Michael Bennit leading the cause, they aren’t going to respond to the stick part of the approach either.
“A unanimous vote is a good sign. It means Merrick and the Dems are playing ball,” I observe, trying not to hint at the concerns I have about this.
“Yeah, well, it better work. Your job may rely on it.” I can always trust Harvey to take my concerns for a spin on the dance floor. He doesn’t want us to lose our majority in the House, but I’m sure he’s not experiencing any anxiety over me losing my job.
“I understand the political ramifications, Harvey. We just have to figure out how to keep this from becoming the next big thing to hit Facebook. Bennit has no other cards to play. So on that note, on your way out, have my secretary send the kid with the pimples back in. I need him to explain to me again what the world’s fascination with Twitter is.”
-FIFTY-THREE-
MICHAEL
“Congressman? Blake is here,” Chelsea says from the entrance to my office.
“Show him in. You know, I would prefer if you’d stick around for this.” She turns and eyes Blake who is waiting patiently in the outer office.
“No, I’m good. It’s getting late and I need to get some Christmas shopping done.”
“Oh, God, don’t remind me. I haven’t even thought about it, let alone started it. Good luck with yours.”
“Thanks. I’ll send him in. Have a good night, Congressman.”
“Thanks. You too, Chels.”
Chelsea walks out and tells Blake he can enter. Damn, is she ever pissed off about this. I am reminded once again that I need to have a long overdue heart to heart chat with my former prize pupil.
