by Jerry Bruce
“Would you like me to follow-up on this, Mr. President?”
“No thank you, Stephen, I’ll see to it.”
After Stephen left, Richard poured another cup of coffee and sat behind his desk; opening his center drawer, he took out the cell phone. Richard fidgeted with the phone, uncertain whether he should call the Controller. He finally put the phone back and closed the drawer.
Richard was feeling more uncertainty over whether the Controller had played a part in the embassy crisis. As much as he wanted to believe the Controller’s denial, it was becoming more obvious that he might have been lied to. Richard mulled over if it would be wise to confront the Controller, especially in light of the agriculture project. He didn’t want to jeopardize something so monumental. There also was the remote possibility that the Controller wasn’t involved; that another faction was behind the Israeli attack.
* * *
That night, Richard and Veronica decided to have dinner by themselves in the residency. Veronica hadn’t cooked for them in what seemed like ages, and the children had extracurricular activities at school and would be having dinner out.
“This was a good idea, Ronnie. It’s nice to think back to when our lives were much simpler. And I see you haven’t forgotten how to make a mean meatloaf!”
“It was easy, once I remembered how to turn on the stove! Why don’t you open a bottle of wine while I toss the salad?”
Richard responded with a “can do” as he gave her a slap on the rear.
Veronica reacted with a “feeling a little frisky, are we?” and a coquettish smile.
“Just wait till later.”
“You sure you haven’t already been hitting the wine?”
“Not a drop,” he replied, popping the cork on a bottle of his favorite Napa Valley wine—Duckhorn merlot, “but that is soon to be rectified.”
“Great, have a seat. Everything’s on the table.”
After dinner, as they sat on the couch sipping the last of the wine, Veronica dared to broach a subject that had recently been on her mind.
“I assume, since you haven’t given any hints to the contrary, that you are going to seek reelection. True or false?”
“What makes you bring that up now? Don’t you think it a bit premature?”
“I’ve heard some talk. You know, the kind that goes on in the hallways.”
“You sure you want to get into this now? Wouldn’t you just rather sit back and forget about business for one evening?”
“I would, except I can hear the wheels turning inside your head. You’re mulling over something and you won’t quit unless I dull your senses with more wine.”
“You know me too well, madam. But I wasn’t thinking about reelection; close, but no cigars.”
“What do you mean by close?”
“I was thinking about something that Stephen said to me. You’re going to laugh when I tell you, but he said that reelection would be a certainty and that I should start thinking about running for the position of president of a world government. Pretty funny don’t you think?”
“Well, that certainly sounds a bit far-fetched. But I am curious as to Stephen’s comment about the reelection being a done deal. What would make him say that?”
Richard decided to fill Veronica in on the grain crop project, swore her to secrecy, and outlined everything that Stephen felt would be in Richard’s favor.
“Wow. That’s all I can think to say. I’m speechless. Now I see why Stephen feels the way he does. And no, I don’t think it’s funny. Granted there isn’t a world government now, but I think the world is ready for one, needs one in fact. Stephen has a good eye for politics and apparently he sees the need too. When you face the facts, the organizations that are supposed to be leading the world and solving these problems aren’t getting the job done. They’re being led by committees, and for that reason are powerless to do anything monumental. But leadership by one man with a vision and plan could do wonders, especially if that man already had demonstrated that he won’t be pushed around or intimidated.”
“What is this, are you and Stephen in cahoots? Let’s see, it isn’t April so this can’t be an April Fool’s Day joke. Are you two having a good laugh at my expense?”
“Don’t be silly, Richard, this is serious. You obviously don’t, or more likely, don’t want, to see the logic behind this. If you successfully pull off this project and solidify peace in the Middle East, you could very well go down in the history books as the greatest United States President of all time.”
“Come on, Ronnie, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. Think about it, Richard. I know you are generally a modest man; but this is no time for modesty. You may not be willing to admit it, but you are proceeding down a path that could lead to some fantastic rewards.”
“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you and Stephen are correct. Then what? You have been supportive of me this far; but if I’m in office for another four-year term, and perhaps a term in world government after that, how are you going to like it? I’ve only been president for a year and we’re still adjusting to the lifestyle changes. We can’t be sure how we are going to feel three years from now, let alone after a second term.”
“Richard, I’ve always supported you because I believe in you and what you stand for. As long as I can be proud of what you’re doing, I can put up with anything. As long as it doesn’t adversely affect our children or our marriage, I am behind you one hundred percent.”
“Well, so much for the gospel according to Veronica. I guess I’ll just have to let you and Stephen tell me what to do from now on.” Richard smiled the same smile that Veronica loved so much as he got up to open another bottle of wine.
“I would be content with telling you what to do, and I don’t need Stephen’s help!”
* * *
His mind racing as he thought about what Stephen and Veronica had to say about a world president, Richard couldn’t get to sleep.
One of the highest priority items on his agenda was an effort to make the WTO live up to its promise. He knew he would have to enroll more nations than the few current members. With LeClerc on his side, he was sure to be able to swing over all of France’s territories and friends. That would make a good beginning, but he still needed much more support.
Richard wondered how wide the Controller’s influence spread. The crop project and his influence might be just what he needs to push the WTO to new heights.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“How are those two project managers working out?” Richard wanted to be sure that the Controller was happy with his selections.
“Very well, you made good choices, Richard. I’ve received nothing but positive feedback. The project is progressing even faster than I could have wished.”
“Glad to hear it. So we should be able to get some of the first starter crops going soon?”
“Yes, very soon.”
Richard wasn’t sure whether he should bring up the Israeli issue again. Ever since he heard about the Syrian President’s comment, he could think of nothing other than the Controller might be the outside influence. It had been bothering him that the Controller might be involved and he was even more upset that the Controller might have lied about his involvement. He decided to chance it.
“There is something that’s been on my mind. You told me that you had nothing to do with the Israeli decision to attack our embassy, but I have heard from a source within the Israeli government that there was an outsider influencing the cabinet. Is there anything else you would like to share with me?”
“As I said before, I had nothing to do with this situation.” The Controller’s voice was stern. “However, I wouldn’t rule out intervention by someone unknown to us. And since you’ve brought it up, I don’t like that you have felt it necessary to question me on this for a second time. You must learn to trust me, Richard, as I have learned to trust you.” With that the Controller hung up.
Richard had felt the gamble
worth the risk a few minutes ago. Now he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t afford to have any setbacks with the Controller, not if they were going to get their pet project into full swing.
I’ll have to apologize the next time I talk to him, Richard thought to himself.
* * *
“Sir, Christine Morrison is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Williams, please send her in.”
Christine knew that she would be meeting with the president one-on-one, so she made sure that there wasn’t a single hair out of place and that her makeup was perfect. She chose a business suit with a short, tight skirt, instead of the pantsuits she usually wore. She felt like a schoolgirl every time she knew she would be seeing Richard. Each time they talked, it was, in her mind anyway, something to be cherished. She had forsaken her private life—no dating, no relationships, and no returned calls to would-be suitors. She had time only for her job, and eyes only for Richard. She was so curt with some of the press corps bachelors that a nickname of “Iron Maiden” was being cast about behind her back. She made sure that no one from the press got any inkling of her feelings for Richard.
Richard rose from behind his desk and approached Christine as she entered. He couldn’t help but notice how sexy she looked.
“You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today Christine, not that you don’t always.” Richard was a little embarrassed to admit that he noticed and he took on a slight blush.
Christine thought to herself that the skirt did the trick.
“Why thank you for noticing, Mr. President.” She gave him a coquettish look and smile as she thanked him.
He wanted to tell her to call him “Richard, instead of Mr. President,” but thought the better of it and motioned for her to sit on the sofa. He was going to sit next to her, then changed his mind and sat in his usual easy chair.
“So what‘s on your mind, Christine?”
“At yesterday’s press briefing, the BNN reporter asked me about something odd.”
Richard got a quizzical look on his face and was about to respond when Christine continued.
“He wanted to know about our involvement in some project that’s underway in Africa. He said it was an agricultural endeavor. I told him that I wasn’t aware of any such project. Mr. President, are we conducting a program in Africa?”
“Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag. I was hoping to keep this under wraps for a little while longer, but I guess now is as good a time as any to fill you in. For some months now I’ve had a couple of experts working with a team of privately funded scientists. Years ago, the scientific team was given the task of developing genetically altered grains with the aim of making crops that are drought-tolerant, fast-growing, insect-impervious, and fast-propagating. The first plantings of these new seeds are being done in several famine-stricken African countries.”
“That’s incredible news, Mr. President. When may I spill the beans to the press?”
“I don’t like keeping secrets and I won’t in this case; however, I want to limit the amount of information that we disseminate for the time being.”
“What may I tell them?”
“You may say basically what I just told you.”
“That won’t satisfy them for long. They will want to know who the team members are, how we financed the project, what nations are going to be in the program, and who knows what else they’re going to ask.”
“I know this puts you in the hot seat, but for now we have to keep a lid on the details. Just between you and me, and I mean only you and me, the individual responsible for starting and funding this project has vowed me to total secrecy regarding his identity. I’m only telling you this so that you grasp just how important it is that he be protected from prying eyes. If he gets upset, it could put the project in jeopardy. I don’t need to tell you the significance or the ramifications that this endeavor carries with it. We are in a position to end hunger in the world and we can’t let the prying media put this project in peril.”
“I understand, sir. And thank you for confiding in me. When asked, I’ll simply say that the project was started and funded by a private source. I won’t indicate that it is a company or individual. Let the press try to figure it out. May I mention any countries where the crops are being tried?”
“Yes, you can tell them that at present Ethiopia and Malawi are being given seed and technical assistance. Just think, Christine, we could be elevating the life expectancy and economic wellbeing of millions. Do you realize that the average life expectancy in Ethiopia is forty-four, and that the average annual income is about one hundred twenty dollars?”
“It’s mind-boggling.”
“That’s why the problem has gone on for as long as it has. It’s hard for the people who can solve the problem to relate to such suffering. Our benefactor in this case is a rare breed and has to be protected at all costs.”
“The press will certainly ask for the names of individuals working on this. Mr. President, is there any possibility we can throw them a bone?”
“I suppose, since the persons involved don’t know who the benefactor is, that we could release their names. The press would find out anyway once we tell them where the team is operating. Go talk to Adam and tell him I said he can give you the names and some biographical information on our two project leaders.”
“I’ll do that right now. Anything else I need to know?”
“I think we’ve covered it for now.”
“Thank you for the update, I’ll fill in the press at this afternoon’s briefing.” Christine got up to leave and Richard couldn’t help but watch her departure. For an instant his mind entertained a disconcerting thought, one that surprised him—what it would be like to make love to her.
* * *
In the press briefing room, after the usual mundane updates, Christine brought up the grain project and gave a statement in conformance with the president’s wishes. Though she opened the floor to questions, most of her answers were merely a repetition of what she had already stated. She made a point of avoiding any reference that might indicate that the “private source” was an individual. After the reporters were convinced that they were not going to get any more information out of Christine on the project, one of the press called out, “Does the president have any other secret projects underway?” Christine took exception to the question, but kept her composure and merely replied, “I’m sure you will tell me before the president does!” With that, she ended the briefing.
* * *
Richard was curious about the BNN reporter asking questions in reference to the project. I wonder how he found out, he thought. I suppose it was asking too much to keep a lid on a project of this size for any length of time. There could be any number of ways he found out.
Richard opened the French doors and stepped out to the portico to get a breath of fresh autumn air. He had been so involved with the affairs of state that he seldom had time to enjoy the passing of spring and summer. Except for a couple of weekend trips to Camp David, Richard found himself totally unprepared to face winter, his least favorite time of the year. His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Williams, who came out to remind him of his two o’clock appointment.
Richard was invited to a meeting of the Committee for the Reelection of the President. He filled the committee in on all the latest doings and items that might be of interest as positives that could enhance reelection possibilities. Mostly, they were excited about “The Project” and couldn’t hear enough about it. The general consensus was that this alone could ensure reelection. This didn’t surprise Richard as he already heard the same thing from Christine, Adam, Veronica and Stephen. He made it perfectly clear to them that he had no intention of resting on his laurels. He had many things yet to be accomplished and that was his motivation for seeking reelection. While all present lauded his dedication, only a few closest to Richard knew he was serious and that power and political motives were not behind his seeking a second term. Whatever the committee mem
bers believed, Richard was happy that they were so sure of his serving another term and wasn’t too concerned over their motives.
A discussion of the party’s other hot topics filled out the remainder of the meeting. This led to conversation regarding the support that Democratic Senators Vallins, Thompson and Margolis were showing for a few of the programs Richard was pushing. The consensus was that, while unexplainable, the support was welcome and whatever methods Richard used to obtain it should be continued. Richard didn’t offer an explanation and was happy that the matter wasn’t pursued.
* * *
Richard returned to the Oval Office, poured a cup of coffee and made himself comfortable in his easy chair. Fortunately he put the cell phone in his shirt pocket in anticipation of the Controller returning his call. He had no sooner settled in than the phone rang.
“You wished to talk to me, Richard?”
“Yes, I have been thinking about our last conversation … .”
“I’m afraid my time is limited, Richard. Please get to the point.”
Richard sensed that the Controller was being curt with him out of dissatisfaction for his bringing up the Israeli issue. Hoping to make amends Richard said, “I have been meaning to call you to apologize for my questioning you on your possible involvement with the Israelis. I know it must have bothered you and I’m sorry. I would like for us to move forward on friendlier terms.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Richard. I wouldn’t like it if our relationship were relegated to one of mere tolerance toward each other.”
“I don’t think that would be fruitful,” Richard was quick to point out.
“No, it wouldn’t. I need your complete cooperation and dedication to all my projects, Richard. I refuse to accept anything less.” The Controller’s tone was impersonal considering the topic.
“Since I have nothing further for you, at this time, I will say good bye.”
“Good bye.”
Richard turned off the phone and placed it on the coffee table. He was peeved that the Controller wasn’t more receptive to his apology, but then that would have been out of character. Richard decided to put the issue aside, never again to be mentioned. He then remembered something that the Controller had said.