The Governor and I waited until all the doors clicked shut, and then he turned back to me, a hard look on his face. "I don't care what you are thinking. There is no way you are staying in the campaign after this mess!"
I smiled at him. "George, do you remember when you offered me this position, how we talked about the difference between the chicken and the pig, and how you were looking for somebody committed, like the pig? Remember how we discussed that commitment, man to man? Do you remember that conversation?"
"This totally changes things, Carl! I can't be held to something said then, when I didn't know all the facts."
"So, you do remember the conversation. Good! Well, I've committed ten million facts so far. I told you then that my word and my deals are very, very important to me. Didn't you believe me?", I asked.
He blustered, "That has nothing to do with this!"
"George, do you think for one single second that I am going to let you weasel away with ten million dollars of my money?"
"There is nothing you can do about it!"
I laughed at him. "George, right now you are thinking that if I tell somebody I bribed you, nobody will believe me. It will be the crazed ramblings of a desperate man, right?" I could see in his eyes he had this all figured out. "One small problem, George. I have the account numbers where I wired the money to, and I have slips of paper with your fingerprints and your DNA on them from giving me those account numbers. They are locked in the deepest vault imaginable. If I leave this room as anything other than your continued Vice Presidential nominee, I will head directly to the Justice Department and see if they understand commitment."
"You wouldn't dare!", he hissed.
"How long do you think those guys will take to trace that money, especially when I give them the account that I paid it out of?"
"They'll arrest you for this!"
I wagged my finger at him. "They'll arrest us, George. They'll arrest us! You think anybody's going to care about Nicaragua after you get photographed doing a perp walk in handcuffs? I don't think your Daddy can write a pardon retroactively."
"You'll be in handcuffs, too."
I shrugged. "Yes, I will. I will be ruined. I'll have to resign my seat in the House. My name will be mud. I will be charged with all sorts of things. I will have to hire the finest lawyers in the country to get me out of jail, and I will probably have to pay a fine in the millions of dollars, maybe a billion dollars. And most important of all, I will have to turn State's Evidence against you! The one thing I won't be doing is spending any time in prison. You, on the other hand, will bankrupt yourself and your father fighting this, and you will spend time in jail. I don't think you'd do very well in prison, George. As for me, well..." I waved the newspaper loosely. " ... I'm a ruthless killer. I can handle it easily in case I end up there."
George Bush looked like he was about to vomit. After a couple of quiet minutes he said, "You son of a bitch!"
"I told you, George, I was committed. That cuts both ways, doesn't it?"
"Yes, damn you!" He had surrendered.
"Why don't you wash your face and let's invite Dick and Karl back in, and give them the good news?"
"Don't push it, you bastard!" I kept quiet and he composed himself, and then went to the door. A few minutes later Cheney and Rove came in. They found us sitting on the couch, side by side, and chatting amicably. Bush motioned for them to have a seat, and then said, "Carl has convinced me that this is a situation that can be dealt with, and dealt with positively."
"You have got to be kidding!", exclaimed Rove. Cheney simply stared like we had both grown second heads.
"No, not at all. Let's face it; Thomas Eagleton proved the danger of swapping nominees. The Governor will be slammed for pushing me out and abandoning me. No, he'll be hurt badly doing that. The only thing we can do is fight this.", I answered.
Rove turned to me and said, "And just how do we do that?! This is a fucking disaster!"
"Two parts. One is that the Governor supports me fully and knows my innocence. He is standing by his principles. This is all politics and Bill Clinton releasing classified information for political purposes. Blah, blah, blah. Part two is me. I'll handle this mess.", I told them, holding up the newspaper.
"How?", asked Rove, incredulously.
"First steps first. Call CBS and get me on 60 Minutes with Mike Wallace doing the interview. Make that call as soon as I leave. I want that interview as soon as possible.", I told them.
Cheney said, "You've lost your mind!"
I slammed down the newspaper on the coffee table. "I used to be a soldier, and a damn good one. I think it's time some people in this town learn just what that means! Get the hell out of my way, gentlemen, and watch! I am going to war!"
I left them in stunned silence and went down to a car waiting for me. I went over to the house on 30th, where several reporters had set up camp, though none were daring to push past my security people. I went inside, ignoring their yelled questions, and went into my office. I was beat, but needed to get some work done. The first call was to Marilyn, who had been getting hounded by reporters. I told her everything would be fine, and that I was still the VP nod. I told her I was staying in Washington until this was over, and to reassure the girls and not to worry. Then I made myself a stiff drink and started making notes on a pad of paper.
The one thing I didn't quite understand was the relative crudity of the attack. Slick Willie was a master of manipulation. He could have slit my throat much more easily. Start out with a whisper campaign in the Senate, in the Intelligence and Armed Services committees. Start simple, with an investigation into possible false claims of military medals among Congressmen and Senators, something that would require a very quiet review of classified records. Then, leak the investigation to the Times, but don't give any names out. Let the media start figuring out which politicians have medals. Then convene some very quiet and discreet hearings, and clear most of the people, but not everyone. At some point leak that Congressman Buckman didn't pass muster, but that nobody could do something about it. It leaves me swinging at ghosts and rumors.
You're going to have to throw a Democrat to the wolves. You have to be bipartisan. Who do we sacrifice? It will have to be somebody in a district that will stay Democratic. How about John Kerry of Massachussets? It will be easy to find somebody to damn him, since he turned anti-war afterwards. He won't be up for re-election until 2002, so he can be 'rehabilitated' by then, evidence can be found to prove he earned the medals after all.
A campaign like that can work very well, but it takes time to make it happen. It could easily take a month of whispers to get George Bush to drop me. Didn't they figure they had enough time? Did Al Gore's pick of Kerry throw off the idea of killing a hero off? I knew that Al and Bill had differences, but weren't they even talking, or had Al killed off the idea and Bill was running it anyway? Too many questions...
I ended up having a drink or two too many and woke up sitting in my armchair about four in the morning, my notepad still in my lap. I shook myself awake and headed upstairs. I might as well get some work done. I told the security guys to get the ball rolling on a car, and took a shower and shaved, then dressed. I skipped breakfast other than some juice and Advils, and glanced out the front window. A few reporters were stirring, seeing the lights on in my house. I smirked at that. I told Jerry, "Let's go." We left the lights on and headed out the back door, through the back yard, and out a small gate in the fence. Then it was a ten foot hike through some brush to the street and into a car. As we drove down the street I glanced back and saw the reporters still standing there in the early morning chill.