by Dan Donovan
President Galway departed Pittsburgh shortly after delivering his speech, and headed for the West Coast. His campaign staff hoped the opportunity for Galway to display the power of the Presidency, by announcing the details of a Federal relief effort, would bolster the voters’ opinion of him. Galway was scheduled to make a walking tour of downtown Los Angeles at 3:30 pm Wednesday. However, the fire and the Santa Ana Winds were still forces to be reckoned with. Galway was required to spend Wednesday in Sacramento, the State Capital—over 350 miles away, waiting for the situation to clear around Los Angeles. The highways and train lines leading to L.A. were impassable, and the Winds made flying too risky for the Secret Service’s comfort.
Meanwhile, local and national news crews were showing the Mayor of Los Angeles, a supporter of Cory Stratton, visiting neighborhood after neighborhood in her devastated city—all while wearing a jacket with the phrase “Let’s Get To Work!” emblazoned on the back. The Mayor encouraged people by telling them everything would be re-built with the help of an actual leader in Washington.
When Galway finally arrived on Thursday evening the ceremony was very low key. The Mayor sent her regrets, and an Assistant Deputy Commissioner of Tourism, citing the urgent nature of her duties to the citizens of the city. The proposed walking tour never materialized. President Galway finally made his announcement of Federal disaster relief on Friday morning before a breakfast meeting of local party stalwarts.
Autumn: A Time To Harvest Votes
BY LABOR DAY Cory Stratton had opened up a 15-percentage point lead in several major opinion polls. The central theme of Stratton’s Fall campaign was to reinvigorate the concept of “government FOR the people.” He pledged his commitment to extensive campaign finance overhaul, a wide-ranging reform of immigration legislation, the establishment of a permanent and independent Integrity Oversight Commission, and procuring a “cease-fire” with Congress on partisan acrimony on the key domestic issues of job creation with a living wage, equal rights, education and health care. Along with this announcement Stratton released a signed and witnessed pledge that he would not seek re-election if these four goals had not been achieved.
When President Galway was questioned concerning Stratton’s pledge he dismissed it as game-playing. “While I thank Mr. Stratton for supporting basic concepts that I’m sure many Americans view favorably, his offer not to seek a second term is flawed on two points. First of all, I’m going to win in November; and, secondly, it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book to make such an offer then abandon it later claiming revised circumstances. The problem with novices running for office is that they rely on cliches which any knowledgeable professional would distain.”
In rebuttal Stratton replied: “I respect President Galway and the office he holds. But he will need to find new lodgings come next January. He shouldn’t move too far away because I intend asking him in January 2012 whether or not I have kept my commitment to the American people.”
The four televised debates between Galway and Stratton adhered to a style of exchange whereby the President sought to project an air of executive authority through reflective and sober rejoinders, while the former Joint Chiefs Chairman achieved this goal by employing an expressive delivery of concise, thoughtful proposals. Stratton projected the image of one who was tired of the-same-old-same-old. Galway based his entire political life on supporting the status quo, without its hidebound rules and concepts his cue cards would be blank.
By the time the World Series ended on the last Sunday in October (the 26th), with the National Conference Havana Sugar Canes having defeated the American Conference Washington Senators, Stratton’s lead was up to 20-percentage points. The voting on Election Day, November 4th, confirmed in graphic detail what Edward Galway had known for a month; his time in office would end on January 20, 2009. It was not only a bad day for an incumbent executive, but also a bad day for incumbent legislators. Beginning early in the year present Members began falling by the waste side as voters, heeding Cory Stratton’s calls for a national renewal, began ousting long-term residents of Congress. Nearly 25% of all Congressional incumbents who sought reelection suffered defeat either in a primary or in the general election. For the first time since 1936 the number of third-party candidates selected to the House of Representatives reached double digits (14).
Cory Stratton enjoyed a tremendous day. The signs of his landslide triumph were apparent by the early evening exit polls. He went on to obtain 61% of the popular vote, with an extraordinary turnout for the U.S. of 65.1%. This was the highest turnout in literally a century—the 1908 election had a 65.4% participation level. Stratton won 522 of the 543 Electoral College votes. Edward Galway managed to carry only his own home State of Pennsylvania. Stratton’s adopted political party maintained its majorities in the House and Senate; the Federalists had regained control of the House in the 2006 mid-term election. The influx of new recruits, who would look to Stratton rather than the traditional leadership structure for direction, promised exciting times for reporters and headaches for policy forecasters.
President Galway telephoned Stratton at his campaign head-quarters at Brooklyn’s Marriott Hotel shortly after 11 pm.
“Well, Cory…oh…I should say Mr. President-elect. Congratulations. It looks like I will be taking orders from you in the near future.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” replied Stratton. “You will have to excuse my hoarse voice. I’ve done a bit more yelling than usual. It’s rather noisy here.”
“I can imagine,” Galway said stiffly.
“Will we be able to meet soon? The world seems determined to intrude on our awareness,” Stratton inquired.
“My people will call your people in the morning. One good thing about our post-election procedures is that it doesn’t force the poor, misunderstood incumbent to pack his bags immediately. I look forward to seeing you. Again, congratulations.”
The Fuse Is Lit
ANY THOUGHTS, or hopes, held by Edward Galway of fading away easily did not make it to the end of the year, never mind the end of his term.
An election in a long-established democracy is meant to be the peaceful resolution of a current round of policy debates. The plebiscite held in the Canadian Province of Quebec on Tuesday November 18th was a sharp exception. Generations of mistrust and misunderstanding between French- and English-speaking residents had slowly brewed into a tempest. Outsiders considered it bizarre that long-term neighbors would suddenly lose all restraint and contemplate violent action for no other reason than each spoke a different primary language.
The question at hand was whether Quebec should separate from the Canadian Confederation and proclaim itself an independent nation. Many English-speakers had decided flight was indeed preferable to fight since the previous ballot on the Province’s future. This altered the balance of power sufficiency to enable the Separatists to eke out a narrow win. The “Yes” (or more precisely, “Oui”) vote was 50.01%.
The Federal Government in Ottawa assumed the Separatists would soon request a negotiations conference. There was still an expectation in Prime Minister Paul Jennings’ office that a compromise could be achieved. Such hope died when Quebec officials posted armed guards at all major “border points,” removed all Maple Leaf flags displayed in public, and banned the use of English in official transactions. Any questions from the news media asked in English were ignored.
A serious problem became a crisis when an unidentified gang of thugs went on a rampage in downtown Montreal. One English-speaking tourist was stabbed to death. The pm’s request to Quebec’s Premier to allow the Canadian National Police to investigate the crime was denied. This prompted a call from a parliamentary Member representing a district in British Columbia. The Member, Wayne Stanley, belonged to the Cascadia Party; this organization believed it was far past due to shed the last taints of colonialism. It wanted to rename British Columbia, changing it to Cascadia.
In an open letter to Prime Minister Jennings, Mr. Stanley called f
or a resolution denouncing the murder of a Canadian citizen by Quebec criminals. The proposal went on to state that if Quebec authorities did not immediately apprehend and surrender the murderers to Federal prosecutors then the Quebec regime would be considered in breech of Canadian law. Mr. Stanley recommended that if such a finding were made it would be the Prime Minister’s legal obligation to dispatch Federal troops to restore the rule of Canadian law.
The PM did not respond to this letter. In Quebec’s re-action the Government said the letter was a perfect example of the anti-French hysteria rampant throughout Anglo-Canada. Several large and boisterous demonstrations were conducted in the Province calling upon France and the League of Nations to help protect Quebec’s independence from “foreign-based threats.”
A step back from the brink was taken when Quebec’s Premier, Pierre Montesquieu, announced that suspects had been arrested. He said “this internal matter is no longer of concern to outsiders.” The Premier called upon Ottawa to begin negotiations to “resolve any technical matters resulting from Quebec’s lawful separation from the Confederation.” The chief matter at hand became the closing of the border between the Province and Canada. Quebec officials were requiring anyone seeking entrance from Canada to produce a passport and visa. However, Quebec had not yet created a visa form or an application to request a visa. For the time being all traffic was being routed through an openly used, and openly over-looked, back door through the United States.
Wayne Stanley did not feel slighted by the silence from the pm’s office. He had made his point. Westerners would now realize that the Ottawa-based Government was once again coddling Quebec. The time was coming when the West would awake and no longer care what the Easterners did, he said to himself.
The Galway Administration, in its waning days, took no position on the question of Quebec other than to urge both sides to resolve their differences peacefully. Some problems can be settled by negotiations; others are devised and constructed by those who seek nothing but mayhem. This is what the United States was faced with in Acapulco, Mexico starting on New Year’s Day 2009.
Three and a half years earlier a violent storm had devastated much of Acapulco’s poorly constructed working-class neighborhoods. The city’s line of beach-front tourist hotels was barely inconvenienced. For many guests the most significant consequence had been that they were required to use the indoor, heated pools rather than swim in the ocean. The surf was contaminated by overflow from the city’s flooded sewer system. Despite a visit by the President, local authorities had done little in the interval to rebuild the city. The shattered lives of the residents did, however, draw the attention of a regional drug kingpin. He provided jobs within his organizatio for some, to others he made loans available (at horrendous interest rates); but, most of all he maintained a stream of propaganda against the foreigners who flaunted their wealth in the face of unrelenting hardship.
Acapulco’s Hilton Hotel was at 70% capacity. The ongoing political turmoil had persuaded a notable portion of the Hotel’s regular New Year’s patrons to find the Sun elsewhere. Eduardo de Valera Costilla had been sworn in as President before a joint session of Mexico’s Congress. The political structure remained divided. The MPR members of the newly-elected Congress, now a minority, were conducting a boycott. They were demanding that de Valera resign so that a new election (without outside observers) could be held. Most State Governors, including the Governor of Guerrero where Acapulco is located, were MPR members. Their opposition to de Valera was intense. Anything that could undercut him would be beneficial to the MPR, so the Governors’ reactions to any event were motivated accordingly.
Chiming bells, popping champagne corks and a Mariachi band greeted the New Year for the Hotel’s guests. The main ballroom was crowded with approximately 250 revelers, mostly Americans. At first the shouting did not penetrate the din of celebration. Those furthermost away from the main entrance assumed some other party-goers had been over-indulging already, despite the early hour. Everyone’s attention was grabbed by the neck when bursts of automatic weapons fire ripped into the ceiling.
Standing at every doorway and window were heavily armed masked men. They all wore dark combat uniforms. Each held an assualt rifle pointed towards the crowd. Their commander shouted in Spanish, then English, “Men to my right, women to my left, and all your jewels, cash, credit cards and cell phones on the floor in the middle. If you hold anything back you will be shot after we kill your companion.” Compliance was panicky but swift. Within twenty minutes the raiders had secured the building and telephoned the Mayor’s home. A ransom demand of $1 million American for each hostage was made. The gunmen, who were later identified as cohorts of the local drug kingpin, also demanded a passenger jet. Once the ransom was delivered the hostages would be released—after the gunmen, the hostages and the money had flown safely to Bogota, Colombia. If these demands were not accepted within 24 hours two hostages would be thrown from the roof of the hotel each hour until the terms were accepted.
The city’s Police Commander sent the few officers he had available to the hotel. This was mainly to prevent anyone else from entering the building and being taken prisoner. The Commander telephoned the Governor’s office; however, a recorded message revealed the facility was closed until the following week. Guests from other hotels were drawn to the scene by the arriving police cars. When they learned of the hostage-taking several called the American Embassy on their cell phones. By 2 am the U.S. Ambassador was advising President Galway of what little he knew.
“Well, Henry. What can you tell me?”
“Not very much, Mr. President. I have several key aides headed for the hotel. It appears that over 200 U.S. citizens are being held by drug-gang terrorists. They’re demanding $1M per in ransom. The local cops aren’t much help. Most of the authorities for the area are off on vacation; and the President is trying to hold the country together. The station chief has some disturbing background data on the local Governor. It’s nothing we can present in court, but it gives us real trouble if true.”
“We’re not at the point of legal proceedings, Henry. Tell me what the Spook thinks he knows,” said the President.
Hesitating a moment the Ambassador replied, “The Governor is probably on the cartel’s payroll. An informer claims the Governor and the area’s narcolord are pals from way back. A lot of money, and consumable commodities, have passed between them over the years. The Governor apparently was crying in his beer lately about how his privileges were being curtailed by de Valera. He told his drinking buddy something big was needed to pressure de Valera into being ‘realistic.’ This outrage may be the outcome of that conversation.”
Galway wondered aloud, “How much does the Mexican Government know about this guy?”
“Everyone here believes everyone who is somebody in the MPR is on the take from one special interest group or an-other,” replied the Ambassador. “Do you want me to provide de Valera with our background info?”
“Not right now,” the President answered. “I’m sending you two dozen FBI Agents and some technical folks with Delta Force. We can’t make an overt display until we’re certain the central Government will accept our assistance. When will you meet with de Valera?”
“As soon as I conclude…” In the background a voice was telling the Ambassador to switch on his television set. Simultaneously, a Presidential aide was entering the Oval Office. WNN was broadcasting a special report.
“…newsroom. Again, our breaking story—Terror in Paradise. As we have been reporting, a large number of vacationers at the Hilton Hotel in Acapulco, Mexico were seized by terrorists shortly after midnight. We have just learned that several people who were in the Hilton tried to escape. They were fired upon by the gunmen. We are told that at least six people were hit. We do not know yet the extent of their injuries. One of the wounded is still on the ground outside the hotel. Civilians outside the hotel attempting to rescue the individual were driven back by heavy gunfire… Recapping our stor
y…”
“Oh, my God!” Galway moaned. “Henry! Are you there?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Get to President de Valera immediately! He must send his own specialists in as soon as practical. Discuss our request for deployment. Tell him we understand their sensitivity on the matter.”
“I’m on my way, Sir. I’ll report back ASAP.”
President-elect Cory Stratton was kept well-informed on all the public and behind the scenes developments. His comments to the news media were limited to expressing his concern for the hostages and acknowledging that President Galway faced a difficult situation.
Stratton knew that several anti-terrorist and special warfare units had been authorized to prepare, but within U.S. territory. A hostage negotiation team, comprising Mexican and American experts, was in constant communication with the gunmen. Sixty-four people, either women or elderly men, were released within a few days; and, the terrorists had not carried out their retaliation threat for non-compliance with their demand for money. As the standoff proceeded into its second week the hostage-takers seemed to be settling in for a long haul. The Hilton was well stocked, and only the bare minimum needed to be shared with the victims.
Stratton announced at this time that all Inauguration Day festivities (the parade, the dinner parties and the midnight balls) were cancelled. “This nation is caught up in a tragedy. We can all celebrate when these brave Americans come home in good health,” he said at a press conference. On January 20th Cory Stratton took the Oath of Office on the western steps of the Capitol Building. In a tense address to the American public President Stratton pledged that the United States Government would achieve a successful resolution of the “cowardly criminal scenario in Acapulo.” When he met with the Joint Chiefs of Staff later in the day the President said, “I might just re-enlist so I can be in on the resolution.” The military commanders were only somewhat certain that the President’s remark was not serious.