The Lafayette Campaign: a Tale of Deception and Elections (Frank Adversego Thrillers Book 2)

by Updegrove, Andrew

  He looked down at his screen again. “Still, I haven’t seen anything to be embarrassed by in what they’re supporting. And it looks like they’ve already got a pretty good following in some states we don’t have a game plan for.”

  He snapped his laptop closed. “Face it, Henry. We’re getting close to the end of the road here. We’ve spent all our time and money building up to the public announcement, and haven’t had the resources to plan a real campaign from this point forward. Still don’t. What do we have to lose by meeting with this guy?”

  “I know. But I’m still suspicious.”

  “The Groucho Marx thing?”

  Yazzie laughed. “Yeah, well, maybe. Anyone that would want to endorse us might be someone we wouldn’t want to be endorsed by. Anyway, why do you suppose they’d be interested in us at all?”

  Bekin shrugged. “Well, why not us? Can you think of a candidate from either party that isn’t committed to such a fixed agenda that he can’t have bipartisan appeal? And frankly, Henry, what possible suspicious motive could anyone have for backing us, anyway? No one takes us seriously enough to want to sabotage us.”

  All of which was true, Yazzie had to admit. So what did he have to lose by meeting with this guy?

  * * *

  23

  Now You See Me, Now You…

  “So you’ve got two little switch panels here – one tucked under the dash to the left of the steering wheel, and one under the left side of your desk back in the camper. That way you can always flip a switch without attracting attention.”

  Frank reached under the dashboard with his left hand. “So I feel three switches.”

  Schotz stood outside the open door of the camper, pointing out his handiwork. “Right. The left one will turn on the white noise generators throughout the camper. The middle one will switch the GPS output from the tracer they installed to this new one on your dashboard. See if you can throw that switch.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Good. That’s because you haven’t turned the dashboard GPS unit on yet. Before you can throw the switch under the dash, you’ll need to turn that on, move this dial to the number two position, and program in a false destination. That way you can’t screw up. For the same reason, you won’t be able to turn the dial back to the number one position until your current location is the same as the one the tracer is reporting.”

  “That’s pretty slick. So what’s the third switch for?”

  “That’s a little bonus I threw in for your Dad’s sake. I added an EPIRB unit in case you’re ever really in trouble. It’s the same kind of beacon that wilderness hikers and round the world sailors carry, because the signal can be detected no matter where you are. Just be sure you really want to be found before you throw that switch.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Once you do, satellites will pick up the signal, calculate your location and report it back through a global alert system to the local authorities. It won’t be long before you’ll have to explain to someone why they tail-assed it to wherever you are to save your butt.”

  “Thanks. I hope I never need it, but that’s great.”

  He climbed out as Schotz pulled something out of his pocket; it looked like a miniature LED flashlight.

  “Last thing: hang this remote on your key chain so you can activate or deactivate any of the systems from outside the truck. The range is 100 feet, more or less.” He handed it to Frank.

  “It’s got just one button on it, like you’d expect for a flashlight. Press it once and the flashlight will go on or off. But hold it down for five seconds and then press it once, and the white noise generators go on – press twice and they’ll go off. Press and hold the same button for ten seconds and then press it once and the EPIRB will start signaling. Twice again is off. The button’s raised and nice and big so you can find it in your pocket. That way you can use it without anyone noticing.

  “And don’t worry; I left a full sheet of instructions on your desk back there. You don’t have to remember everything I just said.”

  “That’s great, Howie. I can’t thank you enough for getting all this done so quickly. What do I owe you?”

  “My pleasure, and let’s call it a flat $15,000.”

  “You’re sure that’s fair to you?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m still making a few bucks. And the EPIRB unit has just been lying around for years anyway.”

  He took the check Frank wrote out and stuck it in his wallet.

  “You taking off right away?”

  “I guess not; it’s kind of late. Anyway, I’d like to catch the caucus returns on TV.”

  “Well, don’t do it from your motel room. You’re in Des Moines. After being worked over by the candidates and media for the past two years we can’t wait to see the whole mob move on to harass New Hampshire. Still, Caucus Night here is kinda like Super Bowl Sunday. Except of course most of the players kind of suck.”

  Frank laughed. “Most of them do seem pretty clueless this year, don’t they?”

  “You’re being too easy on them. Anyway, you might want to check out Maddie’s – it’s a neighborhood sports bar down the street. Big TV screens and the food’s pretty good. Turn right at the end of the alley, and it’ll be on corner of the second street you cross.”

  Why not? It would be less bleak than sitting in a motel room, and he wasn’t in the mood for a half-cold pizza anyway.

  * * *

  Across town, Henry Yazzie was handing a delivery person a $20 bill for a half-cold pizza, biding his time till the caucuses ended. He glanced at his watch, and decided to give his campaign finance chairman a call for an update.

  “Yo, Henry,” a voice said after a few rings.

  “Hi, Ohanzee. Thought I’d check in to see whether you’ve heard about a group I’ve just run into. It’s called the Centrist Coalition of America − some kind of new grassroots umbrella group. I got a call from them today.”

  “Not ringing a bell. What did they want?”

  “Seems like they’re considering endorsing me for President.”

  “Huh! No offense, but you’re not exactly a household word. Did they sound legit?”

  “That’s what I’m calling you about. Could you get one of the boys to see what they can find out?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days. Are you and Carson going to crash any parties tonight?”

  Yazzie chuckled. “No, I think we’ll just watch the returns from our motel room.”

  “Sounds like a wild time. Talk to you later.”

  White Crow hung up the phone and turned back to the man sitting next to him in the motel lobby.

  “So what did Henry want?” his companion asked.

  “He wants to know whether a group called the Centrist Coalition of America is legit. That’s what you heard me say I’d get back to him about in a couple of days.”

  “What are you going to tell him?”

  “After tonight’s news broadcasts, I probably won’t have to tell him too much.”

  “I expect not. He should be feeling pretty warm to the CCA a few hours from now, and shouldn’t care whether it’s legit or not. You got time to grab an early dinner before you head back to the Rez?”

  White Crow glanced at his watch. “Yeah. A quick one. Let’s do it.”

  It made sense. Although they’d spoken by phone almost every day for several months, it was rare that White Crow and Baxter Maxwell could meet face to face.

  * * *

  24

  Why? Just be Caucus

  Frank settled into a small table set against the long wall of the tavern Schotz had recommended. At the far end of the room, a serious looking quartet was playing eight ball. A fake-stained glass light, almost as large as the pool table itself, hung low overhead, making
the men look like figures in a Hopper painting as they leaned, frowning, over the long, green surface to line up and take their shots.

  Frank marveled at the large American flag on the wall next to his table. At least six feet tall and half again as long, it was made entirely out of red, white and blue beer bottle caps. The rest of the tavern’s décor was largely made up of Iowa sports team paraphernalia, interspersed with the occasional deer head and beer brand mirror. As promised, there were three large TV screens dangling above the bar, giving every patron a ringside seat.

  Usually there would have been three different sporting events adding to the cacophony of a busy night’s crowd, but tonight each of the screens was tuned to caucus coverage: one to a local network affiliate, one to C&N, and the last to POX News. The talking heads were just getting ready to switch over to covering the first returns as Frank finished digesting the menu.

  He scanned the room anxiously for someone to take his order; he’d skipped lunch and was now ravenous. The room was pretty full, with people standing as well as sitting at the bar, largely ignoring the TVs and talking. A middle aged waitress came over at last.

  “You eating or just drinking tonight?”

  “Both, thanks.”

  She plopped a glass of ice water and some flatware wrapped in a paper napkin in front of him.

  “So what’ll it be, hon?” she asked, a pencil hovering over her order pad.

  “What’s walleye like?”

  “Walleye? You never had walleye before? Well, you better have that then, ‘cause you never had fish that good. What else?”

  “How about a Coors.”

  “Come’n right up.”

  The closest TV screen was running the C&N feed. Frank saw the network’s lead anchor seated behind the main news desk, a sheaf of papers held in one hand. A dozen steps away stood another familiar figure, square-jawed and looking like everyone’s image of an all-American college football player. He was dwarfed by a bewildering array of red, white and blue video screens that blanketed the entire back wall of the broadcast studio. Frank couldn’t hear a word, but the closed caption function was turned on. He watched as the words scrolled across the screen.

  Steven, as we wait for the caucus results, let’s turn to an unexpected development. The biggest story today – so far, anyway − seems to be the surprise impact of Henry Dodge Yazzie on today’s caucuses.

  That’s right, Jon. No one was expecting anything of interest to happen at the Democratic caucuses, since there were no credible challengers to the President. But people showed up in more than half the Democratic caucus locations to support Henry Yazzie.

  Maybe you’d better remind our viewers who Yazzie is, Steven. He hasn’t had much national exposure so far.

  Sure. Henry Yazzie is a Navajo businessman running as an independent. He announced his candidacy just a few days ago. He’s on the primary ballot in eleven states so far, all out west.

  What makes him think he’s got a chance?

  That’s the really interesting part, Jon. It seems like a lot of people this year have been looking for a way to express their unhappiness with all the polarization in politics, but there aren’t any moderate candidates to get behind. Yazzie’s pitch is that government should try to serve all the people, all the time, instead of seesawing back and forth between extremes every time Congress or the White House changes hands.

  If that’s the case, why not show up at the Republican caucuses, too?

  We’re guessing they picked the Democrats over the Republicans because they’d get more media attention. There are so many Republican candidates it’s tough for anyone to stand out.

  When you say ‘they,’ Steven, who exactly are you talking about?

  Apparently it’s a group that calls itself Centrist Coalition of America. It’s been around for less than a year, and until now hasn’t attracted much attention. But it seems to be picking up steam now, with grassroots groups active in a lot of states already.

  What else did they do that got so much attention today?

  Well, Jon, they really changed the dialogue of the Democratic caucuses. The organizers thought they’d be done with their meetings in about an hour. Instead, the CCA folks stood up at the outset and challenged a lot of the President’s policies and wouldn’t sit down until they had their say. Of course, then the party faithful had to take their turn defending the President, so it ended up taking a lot longer than expected. The word got around, and it wasn’t long before the camera crews started setting up outside the main caucus sites.

  I expect that didn’t go down well with the President’s field staff.

  What field staff? I expect they didn’t see any need to be in Iowa at all, without a challenger to worry about. This really caught them flat-footed. I doubt they’ll let that happen in New Hampshire.

  What about the people who came to support the President?

  From what we can tell, Jon, some of the arguments Yazzie’s supporters made struck home with them. As you know, the President’s approval ratings have been in the gutter, so a lot of the people that showed up were really supporting the party, not him. Most of them had probably never heard of Yazzie, much less read his platform. But now you and I are here talking about him on national television. Whoever is managing his campaign obviously knows what he’s doing.

  Suddenly, the screens behind him began flashing and pulsating like some massive slot machine getting ready to spit out a jackpot, and a shimmering, yellowish-green hologram of the anchor shimmered into existence next to his partner in front of the wall of screens. The virtual image of the anchor picked up right where his actual self had left off without missing a beat.

  We’ll have to wait and see what happens in New Hampshire next week. But right now, let’s turn to the amazing, AMAZING display of technical wizardly behind us – after all, we’re the world leader in technology-driven news reporting. The caucus results are starting to come in, and I know our viewers can’t wait for you to explain how all these incredibly impressive displays work…

  * * *

  It was eleven o’clock that night when Fetters finally turned off the television, satisfied that the caucus numbers would change little as the last results trickled in. Everything had gone as planned, just as he had known it should. But he hadn’t gotten to where he was in politics by taking anything for granted.

  His phone rang.

  “Good evening, Richard. You are to be congratulated,” Barbash said.

  “Thanks, Otto. Your money had a lot to do with it. The Centrist Coalition of America really came through − and they certainly are a lot better funded now than they were before.”

  “Not so much, I trust, that they’ll have any real effect?”

  “No, no, nothing like that much cash. Just enough to allow them to organize a good showing at about half the caucus sites today – quite a good return on investment, really. I’m expecting the Indians will provide very good value, too. Once we have Henry Yazzie formally on board we’ll begin mobilizing the tribes across the country as well as the centrists and independents. Give me a few more primaries, and I guarantee we’ll have the President sweating but good.”

  “Indeed, I will take great pleasure from that. But are you sure we needn’t worry about things getting out of hand? As long as the President stays as liberal as he’s been we’ll have cover for Yazzie’s increasing success. But if he starts to moderate his positions, that will become harder to explain.”

  “I don’t think he can do that, Otto. He knows if he goes mushy the Latinos, the African Americans, the far left – they’ll all just stay home. He’s trapped.”

  “I expect so. But what of this Yazzie? What if he starts to take his chances seriously?”

  “I’m confident we can keep him under control. He can’t possibly think he can win, and if he doesn’t throw i
n the towel and endorse Wellhead when we ask him to, there’ll be no cabinet position for him.”

  “Still, he doesn’t control his people. And he may refuse on principle. If so, there are enough Indians in some of the western states to affect the outcome in a close race.”

  “That’ll never happen. The Indians haven’t pulled together any kind of nationally coordinated movement since the Pine Ridge shootout in the ‘70s. I don’t think it’s possible for them to put a real campaign together in the short time available. If it looks like Yazzie is somehow getting a bandwagon rolling anyway, we can outspend him a hundred to one. It’s amazing what money can buy during an election year, so long as you find the right people to give it to. And people like that can be found everywhere, I assure you. You just need to know how to look.”

  “Very good then. Are you feeling similarly confident going into New Hampshire?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t forget they’ll be using voting machines there. It took a lot of time and effort getting out the vote today, but with a solid second place finish, no one will have any reason to doubt when Wellhead comes in first in New Hampshire next week.”

  “Excellent. In that case, it will be quite enjoyable watching the posturings of the other candidates in the week ahead. Well done.”

  Barbash felt an unfamiliar, heady recklessness after the call. He had directed his considerable wealth to bending the electorate to his view of the world for years. But whenever any of his resources were used in other than legitimate ways he had always taken care to maintain ample distance between himself and those carrying out the dirty work. This time he was being a bit more daring. The reward was that he could observe the chess pieces more clearly as they were moved about the board, secure in the knowledge that his opponents had no idea what they were up against. It was a good bet that they never would.