The iCongressman, page 25
part #2 of The Michael Bennit Series Series
“Good evening, Congressman,” Blake says, taking the seat I offer him on the small sofa across from mine. I toyed with the idea of having this conversation across a desk, but I have a hard time forcing myself to be that formal.
“Evening. Glad you could make it.”
“I watched you on The Daily Show last night. Really nice job, although I really think you should have taken Jon Stewart’s challenge of flipping his desk. The viral value of that would have been astronomical.”
If you want to change public opinion, Meet the Press isn’t going to get it done. The Daily Show and Colbert Report have mainstream appeal, and that’s what we need right now.
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t tempting.”
“You working mainstream television programming is still taking some getting used to. It made sense during the campaign, but I’m a little shocked you decided to continue appearing on them.” Blake pauses for a moment before continuing. “You don’t think a social media campaign will work for this, do you?”
“Not this time. Not by itself.”
“Why not?”
A viral social media campaign is not much different than any other movement in history. The only difference is how it materializes and how the message is communicated. For all grassroots movements, there is one fundamental truth someone needs to understand—to work, they have to be something people can rally behind.
“Americans don’t understand how this affects them. People will talk about it, but they won’t demand the action it’s going to take to make a difference.”
“So, the fact Twitter hash tag ‘silenced’ is constantly trending is meaningless?”
“Meaningless is a strong word. People’s opinions matter, but in this instance, it won’t be enough to change votes. We may have demonstrated the power of social media, but we also have to understand its limitations.”
“Is that why I’m here?”
“Sort of. I need some advice. You did some unsavory things for Winston Beaumont, didn’t you?”
“Too many,” he answers meekly.
“If you were trying to intimidate someone into voting a certain way, or taking a course of action, how would you do it?”
Blake thinks about it for a second before the realization of what I’m talking about hits him like a tsunami. Blake may be a lot of things, but dimwitted isn’t one of them. I can’t understand why Marilyn’s opinion of her nephew is so low.
“You’re talking about the threats you’re getting?”
“Yup. Tell me something. This rules vote is pretty much a lock, yes?”
“Outside of you pulling off a small miracle to defeat it, I’d say so.”
“So if a group is behind sending them, what is the endgame?”
“They are trying to push you into something willingly.”
“That’s the conclusion I came to, and thanks to your aunt, I think I know what.”
“The third party.”
I give him a look of agreement without saying anything. He gets the message, then looks over his shoulder to the closed office door.
“Chelsea doesn’t trust me. Is that why she isn’t here?”
“Nobody trusts you, Blake. Not my staff or anybody else’s. I’m not sure you’ll ever get over that stigma, but maybe for once that’s an asset and not a liability.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.
I take a moment to think about how I want to do this. Offending Blake is not at the top of the list of things I give a crap about, but this situation is critical and I could really use his help. I don’t want to manipulate him into saying yes, but I also don’t want to give him an easy reason to say no.
“How many Democrats do you know in the House?”
“Almost all of them. Not that any of them would give me the time of day.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I have a mission I’d like you to consider taking.” I go on to tell him my plan. I decide to play it straight and lay all my cards on the table. It’s a different approach than anyone else in this city would use, and I pride myself on owning that approach here.
“I’m fighting a war on multiple fronts here, and I can’t do it alone. You are my Manhattan Project, so to speak. You’re the best hope I have for victory.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then say it. You have that right.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever find work in this town again if I do this for you.”
“Not going to lie to you, Blake, that’s a real possibility.”
He closes his eyes, and then opens them, focusing on an imaginary spot in the space in front of him. He is lost in his thoughts, and I’m not about to interrupt his thousand-yard stare. By the time he looks up at me, I already have figured out what he’s about to ask.
“Look, if you’re fishing for a job offer, you’re not going to get one out of me. I’m only just beginning to trust you, and the opinions of the people I rely on the most aren’t even that far along. And trust me when I say that’ll be an uphill climb.”
“How uphill?
“Think the cliffs at Pointe du Hoc between Utah and Omaha Beaches in Normandy.” He misses the reference but gets the gist. He goes back to weighing his options, playing with the Second Armored pin he’s been wearing on his lapel since the first election in the process.
Despite our social media effort, I think the success of defeating this bill relies on Blake’s decision. And while Chelsea is … less than thrilled … in trusting him to pull it off, I know he’s the only one who can. It’s a high stakes gamble considering how many times he’s lied and deceived us. Something in my gut is screaming to follow my intuitions and trust him, and after surviving multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan with the Special Forces, I learned to trust that gut a whole lot.
“Do you think these threats against you and the staff are real?” he asks with a look of genuine concern on his face.
“I don’t know, Blake, but God, I hope not. Either way, I will not allow myself to be coerced into anything.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“You realize what I’m saying, right? There are no promises of anything for doing this?”
“I understand, but you need to know something first. Speaker Albright offered me a position on his staff to help this get passed.” That catches me a little off guard, and my response is reflexive.
“Really? Did you accept it?”
“No. I don’t want to work for him, but I was keeping the option open.”
“Does anyone else know about this?”
“Not until I let it slip with the rest of the information you want me to leak.”
“You scare me a little, Blake,” I say with a smile, but meaning it.
“I’ll let you know how I make out,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand. As we walk to the door, I have to ask.
“Blake, why did you decide to help?”
He looks at me and smiles. “It’s what my father would have wanted me to do.”
-FIFTY-FOUR-
CHELSEA
Union Station is an iconic landmark in D.C. More than just a transportation hub, it also offers a variety of stores I can peruse for gifts while being afforded easy access to Red Line of the city’s subway system. I’m window shopping more than actually planning on buying a gift. Dad is almost impossible to find Christmas presents for.
“Hello, Miss Stanton,” the deep bass voice of Congressman Parker says after seeing me in front of the aptly named Street Level Shops.
“Good evening, Congressman. I didn’t realize you shopped here too.”
“Normally, I don’t, but the missus is out of town and there is a great little cigar shop right over there,” he beams without a hint of guilt. “And you?”
“Trying to find ideas for my father.”
“I know there is a nice little cigar shop right over there,” he says with a laugh. It’s probably the only store he knows of in this small shopping area.
“It may come to that,” I lament, reciprocating the smile. “Before I forget to ask, how’s your niece making out with her unit? I haven’t heard any updates.”
He smiles, probably shocked I remembered. Most elected officials can’t be bothered to remember what they ate for breakfast, and staff members only generally care about what their principals do. Of course, no one will ever accuse us of being like most elected officials.
“They finally got the issue sorted out and she is doing much better. She’s going to make a helluva crew chief.”
“I have little doubt about that. Thank her for her service on my behalf,” I say as I start to leave.
“I will. Before you run off, I was wondering if there is something else you could help me with, since I’ve run into you here.”
Ugh. The deal-making here never ends, and I am getting tired of it. I don’t feel much obligation to help, even after he saved the congressman’s political career. He’s a big part of the reason I have to buy jugs of Advil at the local Sam’s Club.
“I will do what I can.”
“Rumors are like Louisiana mosquitoes on Capitol Hill—they are everywhere, annoying, and if you spend too much time around them, will suck the lifeblood right out of you.”
No argument from me on that terrifying analogy. I hear the bayou is beautiful in its own way, but I don’t ever plan to find out for myself. The closest I ever plan on getting there is through watching old episodes of Duck Dynasty.
“Did you hear Blake Peoni accepted a deal to work with on Speaker Albright’s staff?”
The blood drains out of my face. I have a pale complexion to begin with, but now I’m sure I look like a bed sheet.
“No, I guess you haven’t.”
“I, uh … do you …” C’mon, Chels, get it together. “How solid is your information, sir?” I ask, finally regaining at least some composure.
“Very,” he states confidently. “I’m not trying to play gotcha with you, Miss Stanton. I only ask because he worked for Winston Beaumont, and he and I … well, let’s just say we live on very separate planets ideologically. Fact is, I don’t trust Blake very much. I have no idea why the Speaker does, but I consider it my job to protect my party if he isn’t going to. I know you don’t care much about that, but I also know he was working with you guys.”
I can barely speak. I want to respond. I need to respond, but I can only focus on tamping down the surge of emotion I’m feeling. He lied to me again. He pretended to care about me and even kissed me. How could I be so stupid?
“I wish I could tell you more, Congressman, but I honestly don’t know anything,” I mutter as the tears form in my eyes. I’m losing the battle with myself, and Congressman Parker sees it too.
“I can see this blindsided you as well. I’m sorry if I upset you. Have a nice evening, Miss Stanton. Good luck with your Christmas shopping,” he says with the same concerned look my father gives me before walking off.
I find myself standing in the middle of this national treasure, surrounded by people, yet utterly alone. Alone. That word has a lot of meaning for me these days. So many lies and so much deceit. I feel like a shipwreck survivor, clinging to a board and adrift on a wide open sea by myself. Even the people closest to me have seemed to abandon me.
I walk back to the safe confines of my office through the frosty early December air. Although it really isn’t safe anymore either, is it? The congressman seems to be keeping as many secrets from me as Blake has. Has he lost his trust in me, too? Would he bother to tell me even if he hasn’t?
Trusting people has never been my strong suit. Maybe that’s the one thing I always had in common with my favorite teacher—we both take a while to warm to people. So why is he embracing Blake now instead of me? Blake, the lying, coward of a man who doesn’t have a shred of integrity in his body. Why would Mister Bennit, a man who epitomizes the very word, betray his own principles so egregiously? Has Washington changed him that much?
Forget it. I can’t take this place anymore. I wipe the tears from my eyes and grab my coat and purse. I have been betrayed for the last time. By Blake, by the congressman, by anyone here. When I get emotional, I get irrational, and right now, I don’t give a crap. I look around my office for what will probably be the last time. They can mail me my stuff for all I care, because I’m going home to Millfield and never coming back.
-FIFTY-FIVE-
SENATOR VIANO
“The infuriating bastard lied to me, Gary!” I exclaim as I barge into his office in the Longworth House Office Building. Well, it will be his office for a short time longer since his boss lost the election to one of my future minions.
“You’re just figuring that out now?” The perplexed look on his face leads me to believe he came to that conclusion days ago. I miss having him as my chief of staff for that very reason. He sees the things I sometimes don’t.
“I thought he was just engaging in some political posturing. I didn’t think he’d have the balls to go against me on this.”
Bennit has hit the media circuit hard in the days after our little chat at breakfast. I seriously thought he was just playing it up like he was fighting the good fight. We do that in Washington all the time. Each and every call I had with him was cordial and cooperative. At least until the last one.
“He strung you along. I’m not sure if I’m more impressed he thought of that or managed to get you to buy it.”
“What are you saying, Gary?” I ask in my patented accusatory tone.
“You’re a political genius, Senator. That’s why I liked working with you, and still do. The fact that he successfully pulled the wool over your eyes is more than a little impressive. That’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” I ask my longtime confidant, “Because it looks like you have more to say.”
Gary gets up from his desk, stretches, and walks over to the credenza on the far wall. His office is not spacious, but is roomy enough to be comfortable in so long as you like prints and tchotchkes of various superheroes. I don’t, so there were relative few of such adornments when I was in the Senate. Now it looks like Marvel Comics threw up in here. Hope he doesn’t plan on putting this crap up when he comes back to work for me.
“You should just consider working with him,” Gary says, pouring himself a drink from the glass decanter without offering me one. He knows I won’t accept it anyway.
“I tried, and this is how I was rewarded.”
He smirks, and then takes a long sip of his … whatever it is. “No, you maintained the guise of working with him while you plotted against him. Your problem isn’t Michael Bennit; it’s that you keep underestimating him.”
“I made him the iCongressman, damn it! He would be nothing without me. Even if he managed to win reelection, he’d be more irrelevant in this town than two-day-old chewing gum! The icandidates were my idea. I selected them, I helped them―”
“Behind the scenes, Senator. You may know all that, but neither they, nor the person they will take their cues from, understands that.”
“Precisely why I won’t work with him. As long as Michael Bennit is in office, he will be looked at as the leader of the independents in the House. It doesn’t matter if we form a new political party or not.” I notice the change in Gary’s face, and know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. “I know you’re going to say ‘I told you so,’ so just don’t,” I warn.
“Okay, so you need to find a way to remove Michael from the picture. Permanently,” he surmises, heeding my advice to move the conversation forward.
“Yes, and I think I have a plan to do it. You are aware of all these threats Bennit is getting, aren’t you?”
“I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Then I’ll assume you also figured out who is behind it.”
“James Reed.”
“Correct. He is trying to force the issue on the third party idea. Apparently he isn’t convinced this bill is going to do it for us.”
“Bold move for one of the most prestigious lobby firms in the country to be involved in something like that,” Gary correctly surmises.
It is a risky move as much as it is a brash one. The name of his firm has already been tarnished by being involved in ousting Michael last summer. If he were ever tied to this, it would destroy them. James probably thinks there is nothing that could ever lead an investigation back to his doorstep. Of course, he thought that the first time.
“Let’s use his tactics to our favor. Michael is concerned about the welfare of his staff. These threats are starting to get in his head because he cares more about the people around him than doing his job. It might not take much to force him out. We just have to send a louder message.”
Gary is about as shrewd as they come, and that’s saying something in an environment where every politician thinks they’re Marcus Aurelius and every staff member acts like Niccoló Machiavelli. Of course Beaumont’s chief of staff, Roger Bean, was of the same opinion of himself before his Brooks Brothers suits were exchanged for Day-Glo orange prison garb.
“Marilyn, you’re playing with fire now. You’ve tried crossing Bennit, and if this backfires, you’ll be doing the same thing to Reed. Just how far do you plan on taking this if it doesn’t work out the way you hoped?”
“I have spent my whole life trying to build the contacts and resources I needed to get elected to the Senate. Once I was there, I was on top of the world. Politics is my life, Gary, and I want that life back. Neither Michael Bennit nor James Reed is going to stand in my way.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Gary correctly observes.
“How far would I go?” He nods. “As far as I have to. Now let’s get to work.”
-FIFTY-SIX-
MICHAEL
“Any luck?” I ask Vince as he jogs the last strides down the hall and stops next to me.
“None. She isn’t at home, hasn’t been to the office, and isn’t responding to her cell, texts, or e-mail.”
“Okay, now I’m worried. This isn’t like her at all.”
