“But what about you, Jack? That’s not your style.”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, I already cleared it with Will Hawkins, and he thought it was a great idea. Because campaign expenses are made public, he couldn’t pay me more than others on the campaign team, and in his mind, this ensures that I don’t have second thoughts and lose focus over the next year.”
“I still don’t understand, Jack.”
“I’m not sure I do either. But I do know Will Hawkins is passionate about the same things I am. I haven’t been this excited about marketing a product in years. Maybe ever.”
After a few minutes of silence, Carrie asked, “What happens if he loses, Jack? Do you really believe Allen will take you back?”
“I’m not sure. But I’ve rationalized to myself that if I make a good impression on the Hawkins family, win or lose, Allen won’t have much choice.”
Again quiet. It was Jack’s turn to break the silence. “I have to be honest, Carrie. My biggest concern is losing you. Our paths over the next year are going to be quite divergent, and whether I’ve done a good job of communicating it or not, I’ve become quite fond of you.”
“Fond!” Carrie laughed nervously. “Is that the best you can do? I was hoping this was the moment you would profess your undying love for me.”
“I am,” Jack whined. “I’m just not very good at it.”
They both laughed. Then, without warning, the passion each felt toward the other pulled them together in an intense embrace. After what seemed like an eternity, they looked into each other’s eyes and connected in the depths of their souls.
They made love as if they’d never see each other again. When they came back to earth, Jack realized he was running late for his first day as the consumer strategist on the Will Hawkins campaign. He quickly showered, dressed, kissed Carrie on the forehead, and was gone.
Carrie lay there for a while, wondering what was in store for them. Jack was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she had a nagging feeling that his new position was not necessarily going to be good for them.
thirteen
Jack arrived at campaign headquarters at 9:10. The first person he saw as he entered the palatial forty-first floor of the Hawkins Oil Tower was John Rollins, Senator Hawkins’s campaign chief of staff.
“Jesus, McCarthy, it’s your first day on the job and you’re late. I don’t know what type of hours you keep in the advertising business, but this job is 24/7. Now let’s get over to the conference room. The research geeks are giving us an update on where we stand.”
John Rollins stood about 5′6″ in his lifts, and his high-pitched East Texas twang was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl. He also was one of the most successful bankers in Texas, and Jack knew he had a personal and professional relationship with Bo Hawkins that went back twenty-five years. His reputation was what legends were made of. He never took no for an answer, absolutely hated to lose, and never let anything get in the way of achieving his objective. And currently, his objective was getting Will Hawkins elected as the next president of the United States. Jack followed Rollins into the conference room. Around the table sat one of the most formidable campaign teams ever assembled. Jack felt an adrenaline rush, just being part of this group.
Once the introductions were complete, the pollsters began their analysis of the National Opinion Poll. More than a thousand surveys were conducted weekly to identify a candidate’s current position in the race to become the Democratic candidate as well as his position relative to the current president, Robert F. Hughes. The numbers didn’t lie; Will Hawkins’s awareness and preference ratings were increasing, but at a snail’s pace.
“If this trend continues,” Doug Evans, the campaign’s research director said, “we’ll have to double our advertising budget just to have a prayer.”
The room was silent. No one had expected it to be this difficult.
“Thank you for such an uplifting analysis of the numbers, Mr. Evans,” John Rollins said. “You can be seated now.”
Then Rollins proceeded to attack every person in the room. He started with Steve Bess, the campaign’s assistant chief of staff and Rollins’s right-hand man for the past fifteen years. He saved Jack for last.
“Well, Mr. McCarthy, I’m glad you could make it this morning. You were ten minutes late on your first day, and you’re four weeks late for why we hired you. Where the fuck is this consumer expertise we were promised? We need results, and as all of you have probably noticed, we don’t have them. Now, I’m going to leave before I get really pissed. But before this day is done, I expect a plan from each of you on how we’re going to accelerate the national popularity of Senator Hawkins.”
Rollins then spun on his heel, stormed out the door, and slammed it behind him.
The room was eerily silent. Steve Bess spoke first. “All right, people, you know the drill. Doug, need your thoughts on the regional skew of the numbers. Chris, rerun the budget numbers and give me a 10 percent increase in our TV media budget. Kim, update the status on volunteer recruitment. Lie if you have to; I need increases. The rest of you get back to work. Jack, you come with me.”
When Jack and Steve entered Bess’s office, Steve quickly shut the door behind them. “Well, Jack,” Steve said, chuckling, “how’re you enjoying the new job?”
Jack took a deep breath. “Holy shit, that guy’s a maniac.”
“Yeah, he is,” Steve replied, “and I should know. I’ve been working with him for fifteen years. But don’t take it personally; that’s his definition of motivation. And you know what? It works on most people.”
“But that bullshit about me being four weeks late! I didn’t set the start date; that was Bo Hawkins’s call.”
“I know that, Jack. Rollins knows it too. He’s just giving you a little kick-start by sticking his boot right up your ass.” Both men laughed.
“Listen, Jack,” Bess continued, “John Rollins is a winner, whether you like his methods or not. We both worked on Will Hawkins’s senate campaign and were rewarded by getting to keep the Hawkins account at Metroplex Bank. Now we’re in the Super Bowl, and John Rollins will not accept the possibility of losing. He’s Ross Perot, Vince Lombardi, and Attila the Hun all rolled into one. But he’s manageable if you know the buttons to push, and I do. So stick close by me until you get more comfortable. Now, I’ve got a shitload to get done today, but let’s get a drink after work, and we can discuss next steps regarding your consumer strategy.”
Jack agreed and left Steve Bess’s office knowing he’d just made a new friend. And just as importantly, he’d identified the ally that would help him navigate the waters of this shark tank they called a campaign.
fourteen
John Rollins and Will Hawkins sat in silence across the large coffee table from each other. Will Hawkins’s spacious downtown office had become the unofficial campaign war room where many of the real strategic decisions of the campaign were made. On this beautiful fall afternoon, they were discussing the various polls that indicated Will’s popularity was not climbing quickly enough.
Rollins broke the silence with a pitch in his voice that was higher than normal. “I’ve asked Steve Bess to revisit many of the key components of the campaign and have recommendations to me by end of day. But that’s not going to be enough. We need a giant boost. We need to announce the alliance with The Future State Foundation. We need David Ellis to go to the media and announce his support for the Will Hawkins campaign for president. It needs to be one of those fiery, passionate speeches that motivates the masses and makes the girls swoon. We can use all the female voters we can get.”
“I agree,” Will said, “but even that might not be enough. We have to do something big. Something that will catapult us to the front of the pack.”
“Got any bright ideas?”
Will shot him a dirty look and said, “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve been going over this in my mind for days, and I think I’ve come up with a plan.”
“Well, come on, what gives?”
“John, whatever is said in this office is strictly confidential, right?” “Of course, Will. Our objectives are 100 percent aligned. Now, what’s the idea?”
“I’m not sure where to start, so I’ll go from the very beginning. The genesis of this idea came while I was pondering the weaknesses of President Hughes. I think we all believe I can win the Democratic candidacy. It’s beating Hughes and his fucking impenetrable approval ratings that have us worried.”
“I agree. Go on.”
“So the key to accelerating my poll numbers is to capitalize on a weakness of the president. Now, my key platforms of economy, ecology, and drugs are all relative weaknesses of the current administration. Having any significant impact on the economy or the war on drugs is beyond our control. But people’s ecological concerns offer some interesting opportunities.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Rollins said. “Cleaning up the environment and passing meaningful legislation aimed at industries not in compliance with current environmental acts is every bit as difficult to impact as the other two.”
“I agree,” Will smiled, “but you’re missing the simpler avenue. We don’t focus on fixing the problem. We focus on making it a bigger problem for President Hughes.”
Rollins looked puzzled and for a rare moment was speechless.
Will continued, “A few strategically placed environmental mishaps, and President Hughes has a shitload of bad press on his hands. That, coupled with a few heartfelt and passionate speeches regarding the legacy we are creating for our children and, voilà! Chinks in the presidential armor and arrows in the Will Hawkins quiver. Not to mention a huge motivator for David Ellis to get vocal about Will Hawkins as America’s agent of change.”
Rollins was stunned but intrigued. “But how do you propose we make these incidents happen without you—or should I say us—getting dirty?”
“It’s actually simpler than it sounds,” Will said, smiling. “Did I ever tell you who my college roommate was?”
“No, as a matter of fact, you didn’t.”
“Carlos Pendrill.”
“The Carlos Pendrill? The Mexican financier and drug cartel leader? Jesus, Will, when were you planning on springing this one on me? That type of surprise could really hurt us!”
“Now, John, I know it’s not optimal, but his family was not suspected of drug trafficking at that time, and it’s not like we play golf together on weekends. In fact, we haven’t spoken in over ten years.”
“So what does he have to do with the ecological undermining of President Hughes?”
“Well, when we graduated from Oxford, we did a little bar-hopping the night before we both came back to this side of the pond.”
Will explained about the night in the bar, the ensuing fight, and how he had most assuredly saved Carlos Pendrill, now the most powerful and feared man in Mexico, from being beaten to death in the alley behind a London pub.
“So you see, John, Carlos Pendrill owes me one. My repayment for saving his life is a few well-placed environmental accidents carried out by his people. Hughes won’t know what hit him.”
Smiling, Will Hawkins leaned back in his chair, clearly proud of his elaborate plan. John Rollins was silent for several moments, obviously pondering the monumental risk to what had just been laid out before him.
When he finally spoke, it was three simple words: “Let’s do it.”
At the same moment, in The Dallas Free Press headquarters on the other side of downtown, Greg Larson and Tom Johnson were meeting in Johnson’s office.
“I’m telling you, Tom,” Larson complained, “this series is going nowhere. I can’t find a thing on Will Hawkins. No affairs, no tax problems. They even pay Social Security tax on their maids and yard people. This guy’s obviously known for a long time that he was going to run for president. I really believed that the legendary ruthlessness and drive of the Hawkins family would turn up some scandal to liven up this campaign.”
“Maybe it’s just legend,” Tom Johnson responded.
“I don’t buy it, Tom. I’ve always believed there was something fishy about the Hawkins family, and I should be the investigative reporter to uncover it.”
“Well, regardless of whether you uncover any dirt on Will Hawkins or not, this campaign is big news in Dallas, and I’d like you to continue. Not to mention that you all but guaranteed Chambers a newsworthy breakthrough.” Johnson shrugged and broke into a big grin.
“I’ll continue, but I need help, Tom.”
“Name it.”
“I want a full-time researcher assigned to me. I want to uncover the shady dealings that I’m convinced exist within the confines of the Hawkins family compound.”
Johnson, relieved by the simple nature of the request, quickly agreed. He was ecstatic to be keeping his best reporter on the biggest story in Dallas since 1963.
fifteen
Will Hawkins’s campaign numbers were slowly climbing, but at a rate that had the pollsters predicting Hawkins could not overtake President Hughes and win the general election. Jack McCarthy was concerned, and he channeled that concern into what he knew best: identifying a strategic insight that would make a product more appealing to consumers. As Jack flew on the Hawkins’s private jet from market to market, he conducted a grueling series of quantitative research studies, focus groups, and one-on-one interviews. His findings were not identifying anything new or insightful. But they had confirmed that the American public, while supportive of President Hughes, believed that the current administration was neglecting the environment and the war on drugs.
When Jack arrived at Dallas Love Field in the Hawkins Gulfstream V, he’d only slept four of the past forty-eight hours. But rather than go home for a nap, he called Will Hawkins’s administrative assistant, Stephanie Wood, to request the earliest possible opening on Hawkins’s extremely busy calendar. After a few moments of delay, Stephanie returned to the line. “Jack, Mr. Hawkins says he can see you in ninety minutes. The limo should be there in a few minutes, so I guess you’ll have some time to kill. I could meet you at Capitol Grill for a quick lunch if you’re interested.”
Jack was starving but thought better of being seen at the trendy Dallas eatery with Will Hawkins’s very attractive assistant. The press, not to mention Carrie’s nosey friends, would have a field day if the two of them were spotted together. This also wasn’t the first time Stephanie had shown interest in Jack. It would be prudent not to encourage her.
“It sounds great, Stephanie, but if I’m going to be meeting with the future president of the United States, a shower is probably the smart plan.”
They both laughed, and Jack signed off by saying he’d see her around 1:15.
When Jack entered Will Hawkins’s plush office, the candidate was talking in hushed tones on one of his three desktop telephones. He casually motioned for Jack to sit on one of the couches on the opposite side of the office. Jack strolled casually to the window looking out on the Crescent and beyond.
When Will Hawkins ended his call, he immediately asked, “What do you have for me, Jack? I need a boost this afternoon.”
“Well, sir, there’s not much new to report.”
“Jack, I would prefer if you called me Will. I’m not that much older than you are. Secondly, I need news. You’ve been on our plane for the past ten days crisscrossing the country, and I need something fresh.”
“Well, Will, I believe we have something fresh, something new.”
“Go on.”
“Our research confirms that your platform is consistent with the American people’s concerns. Ecological naiveté and lip service relating to the war on drugs are the issues that are top-of-mind. Will, it’s time to announce your alliance with The Future State Foundation. Endorsement and support from David Ellis, focusing on all the issues but with special emphasis on the environment and drugs, should have a significant impact on America’s view of the Hughes and Hawkins campaigns.”
“I agree,
Jack. And as a matter of fact, David Ellis and I are meeting in three days to map out the announcement. I was concerned that I might alienate certain constituencies, but your work over the past week validates that my concerns are unwarranted.”
Jack was stunned.
“I don’t know what to say. I thought I was coming in here to convince you of the merits of the alliance. Instead, you’re three days away from finalizing it. I feel like an idiot.”
“Not at all, Jack. I’ve been forging ahead because I was concerned that Ray Langston, our naïve Democratic competitor from Oregon, might beat me to the punch. Your research over the past ten days has provided me a shitload of confidence that this alliance is exactly what my campaign needs. Now, I know you’ve been killing yourself ever since you started here, so take a couple of days off and be here fresh and ready for our meeting with David Ellis.”
“Really?” Jack knew he was an integral player in the development of the campaign’s strategy, but he never expected to be included in the meeting.
“I appreciate the invitation, Will, and I won’t embarrass you.” “I know you won’t, Jack. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a couple of calls to make.”
Jack and Will shook hands, and Jack let himself out of the office. Walking down the hallway, he pulled out his cell phone to see if he could coax Carrie out of the office early for drinks, dinner, and a quiet evening alone.
After Jack had left, Will Hawkins sat pondering what it would be like to sit alone in the Oval Office as the most powerful person in the world. The thought sent chills down his spine. But just as quickly as the daydream began, it ended with a more sobering thought—what if he lost? Once again, Will Hawkins remembered what he’d known for years: Losing was not something he could deal with or ever even contemplate. He had to do whatever it took to win the presidency. The decision was final: Carlos Pendrill was the necessary evil that would help ensure his victory.
sixteen
The Labyrinth Campaign Page 5