The Loyal Nine

by Bobby Akart

  Abigail Morgan stood behind a backdrop featuring the United States and Massachusetts state flags, listening to the reporter’s introductions to her remarks. She was accustomed to this challenge and didn’t give it much thought. She had bigger plans than senate reelection. Why should she settle for number two on the ticket? The present occupant of the White House was a freshman senator when he ran for the job. Why couldn’t she do the same?

  Abbie, as she was called by family, friends and constituents, was a rock star within political circles. When she ran for senate six years ago, she chose to run as an independent, touting her libertarian leanings. Getting elected on a statewide ballot as a Republican had been extremely difficult in Massachusetts, even in an anti-incumbent year like 2010. She campaigned hard during her first election cycle, espousing her core beliefs centering on free markets, limited government, peace through strength and individual self-reliance. Her stunning appearance, strong ability to articulate the issues, and the support of a very wealthy donor base made Abbie a Tea Party darling and a viable alternative for the center left.

  The stagecraft surrounding her announcement had been calculated for maximum effect. The podium and the backdrop were placed on the second tier of steps entering the State House, above the street level. Commonwealth Avenue had been temporarily closed for the event, allowing a massive gathering of supporters to congregate. All of the media cameras and reporters stood on the brick sidewalk, at street level, allowing for camera angles to catch the gold-leaf dome of the State House as her backdrop. Abbie would look stately, as intended. When she was given the one-minute signal, she glanced down and noticed her friend Julia Hawthorne, who was present on behalf of the Herald. Beyond friendship, she and Julia shared common interests—and benefactors.

  “…and now I am pleased to present to you the present and future senator from the great state of Massachusetts, Senator Abigail Morgan!” introduced former Massachusetts Governor William Weld.

  With perfect timing, the loudspeakers erupted with a rendition of “All Hail to Massachusetts” sung by Boston Pops star and Tony Award winner Marin Mazzie. Abbie approached the microphone and soaked it in. She was born for this job. Like her “friends,” Abbie knew she would have an important role to play on the world stage. Everything in her life, including this moment, played a part in the intricate and nuanced script. Abbie cleared her throat and stepped forward to deliver one of the most important speeches of her career.

  “Thank you, thank you. Thank you so much, everyone—especially for braving this crisp January weather. Thank you as well, Marin Mazzie, for your beautiful rendition of ‘All Hail to Massachusetts’!” said Abbie with special emphasis at the end, drawing cheers from the crowd.

  Chants of Abbie, Abbie, Abbie filled Boston Common. She was comfortable speaking in front of sizable crowds, but she did notice the media presence was much larger than normal. She stole a glance up and to her left. Was he watching?

  “Six years ago, I ran for office, because like most Bay Staters, I was alarmed at the problems facing our great nation. The economy was stagnant and the so-called recovery was uneven. Federal spending was out of control, and our national debt approached nearly unrecoverable levels. A disastrous, unconstitutional nationalized health care plan was enacted. The foreign policy of this administration was naïve and misguided. Above all, our civil rights and liberties as American citizens were under assault!” Abbie soaked in the cheers and made eye contact whenever possible with her supporters.

  “I have drawn attention to these problems and others here in Massachusetts. I have sought to work with any and all who are eager to find solutions and promote reforms. As an independent senator, I have united with members of all parties to seek a balance in government, where we have worked together to avoid the gridlock which has plagued Washington for so many years!

  “Our country was founded upon principles we all hold true in our hearts today. The Constitution is our only protection against a heavy-handed government. If the Constitution is not followed and honored, then the power of the federal government goes unrestrained. Once the federal government gains a foothold, it is extremely difficult to reverse that trend. Freedom is the bedrock of our society. Freedom is what makes our great nation exceptional—and our freedoms are under attack, both here and abroad!

  “Prosperity is not created by rewarding those who do not earn it. Prosperity is achieved by hard work, effort, risk and the implementation of great ideas. Our Constitution guarantees all Americans the right to pursue happiness and achieve the outcome of their dreams. However, our Constitution does not guarantee equality of outcomes. Prosperity can only be achieved through effort. It cannot be achieved by exacting an unfair tax burden on those who are successful—on any level!

  “Success at home depends on stability worldwide, and it goes without saying, we have plenty of enemies beyond our borders. It is incumbent upon our government to protect us by securing those borders and gaining peace through strength. Of the limited powers enumerated to the federal government by our Constitution, security is the most important. Our security as a nation and as a people, from threats foreign and domestic, economic and weaponized, should be one of the top priorities of the federal government!

  “Finally, and most importantly, our Founding Fathers would be appalled at the state of legislative affairs in Washington. I am a direct descendant of John Adams and John Quincy Adams, and I believe they would call upon our nation to achieve unity as Americans. In 1789, John Adams, the second president of the United States, predicted today’s sad state of affairs in Washington. He said, ‘There is nothing which I dread so much as a division of the republic into two great parties, each arranged under its leader, and concerting measures in opposition to each other. This, in my humble apprehension, is to be dreaded as the greatest political evil under our Constitution.’ Wise words spoken by President Adams over two hundred years ago are frighteningly accurate.

  “If we could set aside our political differences and simply talk to each other, we might realize our distinctions aren’t as vast as we have been led to believe. I firmly believe our divisiveness comes not from our disagreements about policy, but from our attempts to force those beliefs on those who don’t agree. The pundits talk about the big tent—a coalition that accommodates people who have a wide range of beliefs. I submit to you, unless all of us find a way to live together under such a big tent, our country will continue to suffer.

  “I stand with all of you in this fight. I hope to continue together in the task of repairing and revitalizing our great nation. So, with the support of my family, my colleagues and the lovely people of the great state of Massachusetts, I proudly announce my reelection campaign to finish the work I began six years ago in the United States Senate!”

  Abbie stood back from the microphone and waved to the crowd, which was now larger than moments ago. The roar of Abbie, Abbie, Abbie intensified below her. She made direct eye contact with both the television cameras and also the press pool photographers. With the help of her staff, her announcement would become one of the most important media events of this twenty-four-hour news cycle. But as Abbie snuck one final glance at the penthouse of 73 Tremont, she knew bigger news could always be in the making.

  Chapter 15

  January 5, 2016

  73 Tremont

  Boston, Massachusetts

  John Morgan stood at one of the windows in his inner sanctum and surveyed the inhospitable winter landscape of the Common and Beacon Hill. As the years stretched on, his tolerance for the cold waned, but he would never join the ranks of those retreating to warmer climates during the winter months. Pink flamingos were not his cup of tea. Despite the bitter temperatures below, the scene was far from barren. Camera crews and media types scurried into position. Police barricades blocked Commonwealth Avenue, allowing onlookers to enjoy a rare opportunity to stand in the middle of a busy Boston thoroughfare and listen to one of his rising stars.

  Abigail had intended to delay her an
nouncement until March, when the weather would be more tolerable. Morgan insisted the announcement take place early in the year. When she questioned him about the early announcement date, he simply smiled and told her it was for the better. Abigail was not that different from others Morgan controlled, outside of the fact that she was his only child. Not an insignificant fact by any measure. It is part of the blueprint for your success, my dear. A blueprint we must all follow.

  Morgan had followed the same blueprint, just like his father and his father’s father before him. For generations, the Adams and Morgan lineage defined American politics, banking and philanthropy. His great-grandfather was J.P. Morgan, cofounder of Morgan Stanley. His mother was Catherine Adams, a direct descendant of President John Adams. For centuries the two families formed the historic core of the East Coast establishment and the upper class of New England society.

  Following his graduation from Harvard Law, Morgan formed the Morgan-Holmes law firm with William Holmes, grandson of Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. Together, Morgan and Holmes built a practice of international notoriety, expanding their families’ sphere of influence well beyond U.S. shores. Morgan was tapped as Secretary of State, during the first two years of the Carter administration, finding himself at odds with the President on most policy issues. He used the time to expand his contacts around the world, remaining mostly a figurehead.

  After resigning his post as Secretary of State, Morgan, following in his great-grandfather’s footsteps, formed Morgan Global, an international banking and investment concern. With the law practice capably administered by Holmes, Morgan devoted his time to this ambitious project. Morgan Global was destined to be the banking house of choice for the world’s super wealthy. Morgan and others like him demanded secrecy, in addition to ample returns on their investment. Morgan Global provided both. By the mid-1980s, Morgan Global boasted over one billion dollars under management.

  In 1979, following his return to private life, Morgan had a very public wedding to Eleanor Sargent, the sister of his lifelong friend Henry Winthrop Sargent III. The marriage, while not prearranged, was expected. Families with historic lineage like the Morgans, Adams, Sargents and Holmes were expected to marry each other—within the family.

  Abigail, named in honor of Abigail Adams, was the only child of John and Eleanor Morgan. Complications during pregnancy prevented Eleanor from having more children. Complications of lineage prevented the Morgans from considering adoption. Now John Morgan stood watching his daughter, a fiercely intelligent, beautiful woman, take the podium to make her announcement. He turned up the volume on the television monitor.

  “…especially for braving this crisp January weather. Thank you as well, Marin Mazzie, for your beautiful rendition of ‘All Hail to Massachusetts’!” Morgan viewed the crowd cheering. Abigail had a flare for the dramatic and had a tendency to micromanage her campaigns. Thus far, her approach had worked, resulting in her becoming a media magnet. In politics, good exposure was everything. It was all about branding. With her success, Morgan tried not to interfere in her approach to campaigning—unless circumstances dictated modifications.

  “The foreign policy of this administration was naïve and misguided. Above all, our civil rights and liberties as American citizens were under assault!” Morgan knew her announcement would be her boilerplate stump speech. Abigail was an astute politician. She knew the political landscape of Massachusetts required her to run as an independent. At times, her libertarian leanings concerned him because they did not mesh with his interests. Thus far, that had not been a problem. Morgan knew the national political scene and how it related to geopolitical interests. If Abigail continued her rise to national prominence, securing a place on the presidential ticket, Morgan would have to “discuss” some of those libertarian policy positions with her.

  “So, with the support of my family, my colleagues and the lovely people of the great state of Massachusetts, I proudly announce my reelection campaign to finish the work I began six years ago in the United States Senate!”

  Morgan was pleased with the text of her speech. Well done, young lady. This year will have a profound effect on your political career. I will guide you all the way.

  Chapter 16

  January 5, 2016

  73 Tremont

  Boston, Massachusetts

  A tap at the door interrupted his thoughts.

  “Come in, please,” said Morgan.

  His longtime assistant Malcolm Lowe entered the room. Lowe was an undersecretary of state during Morgan’s tenure. Now in his mid-forties, Lowe could have advanced his career in any number of ways, but he remained loyal to Morgan and was paid handsomely for his loyalty. Morgan muted the television.

  “Mr. Morgan,” said Lowe, exercising the professional method of addressing his boss when guests were present in the penthouse. “Several of your guests would like to express their congratulations to you, sir, and for the benefit of your daughter.”

  Morgan had instructed Lowe to put together an impromptu gathering of his close associates for coffee and pastries. They were all astute individuals and were fully aware of Morgan’s intentions—kiss the ring of the kingmaker and make a deposit into Abigail’s campaign coffers.

  “By all means, Malcolm, bring them in one at a time. Please invite them to stick around for a brief private meeting with the senator,” said Morgan.

  Morgan adjusted his jacket and walked around his desk to greet his loyal friends informally. At six foot four, Morgan was an imposing figure. Standing behind his massive desk, he could be quite intimidating.

  “Hello, John,” said Lawrence Lowell, son of the former president of Harvard and a direct descendant of John Lowell, a federal judge in the first United States Continental Congress.

  “Welcome, Lawrence. Thank you for coming to join us today. This is a momentous occasion for Abigail, and she certainly appreciates your support,” said Morgan.

  Morgan didn’t emphasize the word support, but it should act as a reminder to his dear friend of the task at hand.

  “Of course, John, I wouldn’t miss Abbie’s announcement under any circumstances,” said Lowell.

  Lowell had known Abbie since she was a child, and referred to her by her nickname, despite Morgan’s consistent use of the more formal Abigail. Lowell reached into his jacket and retrieved a check.

  “Toward that end, this is for Abbie’s political action committee. It’s the least I could do,” said Lowell.

  Morgan accepted the check and continued eye contact with his friend. It would be rude to immediately hold up the check as if to scream how much support? Morgan would wait until Lowell turned to leave before glancing at the number.

  “Thank you so much, Lawrence, and thank your wife as well. This means a lot to us,” said Morgan.

  Morgan reached out to shake Lowell’s hand both in thanks and as a form of dismissal. There were several others waiting their turn—no time for small talk. “I hope that you can stay for Abigail’s appearance here.”

  “Yes, naturally,” said Lowell.

  As he turned to open the door, Morgan glanced at the Lowell family contribution—one million dollars. Good start. Placing the check in his jacket inner pocket, he turned his attention to the next “friend of the family.”

  “Good morning, John,” said Walter Cabot, heir to the Cabot shipping fortune and direct descendant of Captain John Cabot, founder of America’s first cotton mill and a revolutionary war hero. The Cabot name was synonymous with American aristocracy.

  “My dear friend Walter, how are you?” asked Morgan.

  He sincerely liked Walter Cabot and the two had transacted many successful business deals, including the acquisition of Huntington Ingalls Industries. HII, along with General Dynamics, dominated the shipbuilding contracts for the United States Navy. With Morgan Global securing the necessary financing, Cabot Corporation expanded its shipbuilding capabilities and greatly increased its stature with lucrative military contracts.

  “I
am well, John, and very proud of your daughter,” said Cabot. “However, there is one minor issue of which I must raise objection.”

  Morgan became uneasy. What could have upset my longtime friend and business partner?

  “What is it, Walter? How can I help?” asked Morgan.

  He watched as Cabot pulled a check out of his jacket and then promptly wadded it up and stuck it in his pants. Morgan was deeply concerned.

  “We Cabots are not accustomed to following a Lowell. Lawrence was shown in before me and this needs to be rectified,” said Cabot.

  Morgan began to feel a sense of relief as a big smile crossed Cabot’s face. Cabot pulled out his checkbook and with a stroke of a pen, presented Morgan with a check for two million dollars.

  “I know Lawrence gave you a check for a million dollars, thinking that would place him ahead of the Cabots. He was sadly mistaken. Please accept our check on Abbie’s behalf for two million dollars,” said Cabot proudly. “Perhaps next campaign, I will be the first to see you with hearty congratulations!”

  The two old friends shared a sincere laugh. Morgan extended his hand and as the two men shook, he leaned in to whisper.

  “Fret not, old friend, we both know that the Cabots talk only to God,” said Morgan.

  At this, Walter Cabot roared with laughter.

  “Never a truer word spoken, my friend!” exclaimed Cabot, obviously pleased with himself.

  Morgan was pleased as well. In fact, he would remember Cabot’s reaction and use the talk-to-God phrase before it was time to write the next campaign check.