Hulagu's Web The Presidential Pursuit of Katherine Laforge

by David Hearne

  As Senator Laforge with Bakr’s help, talked to some of the wounded children, an Iraqi gentleman in a hospital smock walked toward her smiling broadly.

  Bakr noticed him also and stepped out to greet him. “Is-salaamu aleekum,” Bakr offered. The gentleman glanced at Bakr quizzically and quickly replied, “Wa-aleekum is-salaam”

  Paul had noticed his blood stained smock and guessed he was a doctor wanting to talk to them. In these trauma centers, doctors were like angels who volunteered their services and performed miracles with limited equipment and drugs. Paul sympathized with them and respected their devotion. “May I help you sir?” Bakr asked the Iraqi man. The doctor asked Bakr if that was Senator Laforge, he was accompanying.

  Bakr answered in the affirmative.

  Katherine glanced at him and he smiled broadly. In broken English, but very understandable he congratulated her on her escape and how wonderful she looked since he last saw her having plastic surgery at Ibn Sina Hospital. “You look much different than what I would have expected,” he said. “But you have healed well Senator Laforge.” Katherine felt herself go weak and without words as she realized who this man was, and what he was talking about.

  “Do you remember me, Senator Laforge?” The man asked.

  Katherine hesitated for what seemed like an eternity before she responded. “I have gone through a lot in the last few months and really do not remember ….”

  The doctor cut her off and said, “I will help you remember. Let me show you something to help you.” He reached behind his back and struggled for a moment with something. Paul leaned toward Katherine to ask her who he was just as the Doctor’s hand came back in view holding a gleaming pistol . Katherine froze as the man, with his smile stretched taunt across his face, stood there pointing the gun at her.

  “Senator Katherine you are a deceiving American whore.” For a moment longer the man stood there lost in his own world and then suddenly he yelled, “Allahu akbar!” — “God is great!”

  Katherine found herself slammed to the ground as an explosion deafened the world around her. She thudded against the floor, her head snapping back hitting the tarmac hard. Blood sprayed into the air and fell like rain on her face soaking into her blouse. On the ground a puddle of blood widened. She could faintly hear people through the ringing in her ears, but her vision was just a red haze. Her head throbbed and she reached up blindly to it and felt her blood soaked hair. When she withdrew her hand, pieces of bloodied brain tissue was stuck to it.

  Katherine tried her voice and a yell poured from her mouth. To her it sounded muffled and distant. She twisted her head and immediately felt gushers of warm blood hitting her face, and she knew she was dying. Somewhere in the fog of fear and the ringing in her ears she faintly heard Paul tell her, “Katherine lay still!”

  She could feel her heart frantically beating to pump the blood through her body, and she wondered how much longer she would last. She wished she had spent more time with Ira and Lyndsey. There were many things she would love to say to them if they were by her side. The thought of dying, being forever extinct while the world kept spinning disturbed her even more. Kat did not want to die! She gasped another breath of tepid air into her lungs and felt her body quiver. It was then that she realized that she had also soiled herself, but it meant nothing to her as she laid quietly on the blood soaked ground. The next breath of air was the only thing that mattered to her now. Paul was there again and he was wiping her face with a wet rag. The gusher of blood had somehow stopped spraying on her face and as Paul wiped around her eyes the world came back into view for Katherine. She could see a surrounding crowd staring down at her and inches away a man sprawled on the ground with a smile spread across his face. In the middle of his forehead was a dark hole with blood trickling from it into the widening pool beneath the two of them. Paul and Bakr lifted Katherine from the floor while a squad of marines secured the position pushing back the onlookers.

  “Katherine we need to leave, now.” Bakr shouted in her ear.

  Kat heard him and asked, “How bad am I?”

  Bakr told her “You just have a bump on the head, and he is dead. Paul shot him before he could shoot you. But you need to get out of here before you are killed.”

  * * * *

  That was Katherine’s last day in Iraq. Within hours of that incident, she had been flown out of Baghdad on route to Houston, Texas. It was a time to celebrate for many of us who were behind her candidacy. When the news of her return flashed across the TV screens, millions waited to see how the government would receive her. She had broken some antiquated laws and some of her distracters were hoping that, they would fine her and remove her from office. Following her was also her death sentence that now was publicized even more due to the failed assassination attempt in Baghdad. The bounty was a lot that Saddam Hussein had placed on her head, and she was sure that others would be very interested in earning the million American dollars. Her return was going to be a big time for the media.

  I heard a few gasp in the auditorium and looked up to see that everyone was staring at the television screens. A flurry of trumpets played introducing breaking news and then Senator Laforge’s face flash on the screen.

  Part Ten

  Senator Laforge is Found

  “We have come to be one of the worst ruled, one of the most completely controlled and dominated Governments in the civilized world no longer a Government by free opinion, no longer a Government by conviction and the vote of the majority, but a Government by the opinion and duress of a small group of dominant men”. ~ Woodrow Wilson

  I could feel my eyes fill with tears as the announcement was made that Senator Katherine Laforge had been located. In my heart, I had hoped that, she would survive. This was what I had prayed for, but then I wondered how she was. Suddenly, I realized that the damn news had not even said if she was alive or not. Someone did some channel searching and another broadcast came on and a few more details were revealed. She was alive. “Thank you Jesus.” I had said then. She was tough and I just had a confident feeling that she was alive and well. She was destined to be President, I felt. Any woman who can traipse around a raging war zone and survive some crazy Iraqi doctor trying to assassinate her has her shit together. I remembered when she had returned from Iraq, she was so far more determined than I had ever imagined she would be. She had seen the carnage of war and smelled the stench of death first hand. She was invigorated with a new sense of direction and immediately went to work implementing plans to bring to the attention of the American public her views that our dependence on oil was the cause of this war and would result in many more violent confrontations as oil became less plentiful and needed by even more countries. Her exuberance was even undaunted by the plague of anti Laforge protests that she immediately encountered.

  I had received an invitation from her campaign manager to attend her arrival ceremony at Andrews Air force Base. My wife and I were very honored to be on that special list of guests that was handpicked by Katherine and her staff. However, things were still confusing, and I was not even sure, if I should let Tom or Vince know that she was on her way home. Stacie and I just claimed we were going to visit friends back in Maryland and more or less that was true. A story a bit vague, but something most appeared to believe.

  At Andrews Air Force Base, Senator Laforge and her entourage were welcomed by her new campaign manager, Frank Payne. Frank had been a long-time supporter of Senator Laforge and very instrumental in her previous Senatorial win. His acceptance in running her campaign was a huge relief to Kat. He had put her campaign back on track and actually turned the Iraq trip from a negative into a very big political plus. He was a very political savvy and effective manager that made things happen. He had just recently married a beautiful woman named, Diane Gager. She was a librarian back in his hometown.

  Military security, a part of the 89th Air Wing had let a few Laforge well-wishers, and journalist into the reserved area for the plane. Mr. Payne hoped that most of them
could be quickly skirted allowing the Senator’s entourage to quickly escape to the waiting limousine.

  The cheers and shouts of supporters and constant flashes of the photographers greeted the Senator as she debarked from the plane. She felt good to be back home again. For a woman who had been away for months she looked quite refreshed and energized.

  Senator Laforge looked out at the group of people in the welcoming party and waved her hand for silence. As soon as the group settled down Kat started to deliver her speech.

  “I want to thank all of you for coming out to welcome me home. It is a great relief to be standing on American soil again, with the ability to travel around without the constant threat of a bomb, mortar round, or sniper wielding instant death.” Cameras snapped and a rumble of claps and cheers emanated from the crowd.

  Senator Laforge continued, “I will remember my past few weeks with the troops as an unforgettable chapter in my life, where I observed heroism being displayed daily and witnessed the devotion, bravery, skill and professionalism that is the distinguishing characteristics of our troops. I want to express my sincere gratitude and admiration to all the brave American troops, who made my survival and ability to return back to the United States a reality. These are the men and women, who sacrifice over and over to make America and the entire world a more secure and humane place to live. The history of the war on terror will be filled with the stories of heroics of our troops who helped liberate one of the most important countries in the Middle East from the grips of a tyrant who victimized his own citizens and supported terrorism against others.”

  Katherine stopped and motioned to the troops who stood guarding the perimeter of the hanger. “These are our troops, they are great men and women who are not only subjected to the sacrifice of being away from their families and under the constant threat of a suicidal enemy, but also the belittling and chiding of elitist pundits here at home.”

  The well wishers all stood and cheered at this statement. Once the noise subsided, Katherine continued. “On my way back home I read about the President’s visit to the USS Abraham Lincoln to express his gratitude to the sailors for a job well done. The President’s visit to the Lincoln was a proper and fitting compliment to the Sailors and troops who are so deserving of our gratitude. The message was all, but loss by some very biased commentating degrading the President’s tail-hook landing as an overpriced photo opportunity done to simply gander publicity. Let us not forget that four years ago the naval destroyer USS Briscoe, its command and sailors were appropriated as part of the ostentatious burial at sea of the civilian JFK junior. It is the acts of these selfless individuals in our arm forces that allow elitists the liberty to create royalty out of fantasy and with impunity belittle the acts of those who give the ultimate sacrifice to maintain our way of life.” This statement evoked more applause.

  Katherine had to motion for silence, so she could continue. “My exposure to the realities of war, the smell of death, the constant fear of impending doom and the disturbing lack of appreciation by so many of our citizens and Iraqis for the sacrifice of our soldiers galvanized my views even more that we must find ways to wean ourselves from the need to maintain relations with countries whose government or citizens seek our destruction. We as a country must strive to make our country energy self-reliant, so bowing to foreign powers will no longer be a necessity.” Katherine stopped and took a sip of water.

  “After witnessing a nation at war, I look forward to the challenge of leading this country into a more secure existence where the savagery of people in distant lands will not affect the lives of our citizens. I hope that the horrors that I witnessed in Iraq will make me stronger and more driven to solve the staggering problems of our country’s addiction to foreign oil and our abusive antiquated tax system. We need a cure for our OPEC dependence before we are destroyed by the weight of this huge tax on our economy, and we need a new tax system that taxes all, but does not subject us to abuse and intrusion into our lives. It is time we put aside our trivial pursuits and calmly, confidently begin to find our bearings, correct our mistakes, and take aim at our most pressing national goals: energy self reliance and a fairer tax system.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, Thank you again for welcoming me back.”

  Smiling and waving at her admirers, Katherine Laforge was ushered out of the hanger to an awaiting limo.

  Now it would be family time for a day or two, a time to reconnect with her husband, daughter and even her four cats. She looked forward to seeing them and her friends in Houston, Texas. She knew in just a couple of days she would be back in Washington answering lots of questions about many issues; a day she did not look forward to.

  As Senator Laforge’s motorcade crept down the exit road from Houston International Airport, hundreds of protesters, including some carrying flag-draped coffins, lined the streets chanting and yelling obscenities at her as she drove by. The protest was the largest ever staged against her. She felt confused by their blatant hatred and anger that they demonstrated toward her. The protest included stilt-walkers, drummers, people with painted faces, placard waving teenagers, groups of students holding banners against the WTO, the Iraq War and even the existence of Senator Laforge. Some signs showed pictures of Senator Laforge with a bull’s eye on her head, and some proclaimed her a hate monger and religious bigot. Behind all the hate and outrage, a carnival atmosphere prevailed with protestors drinking beer, getting high and challenging one another to be the most obnoxious.

  Senator Laforge’s motorcade emerged from the protesters splattered with various colored paints, vegetables, eggs and other debris. Kat was unscathed, but perplexed over this mob of hatred.

  Frank Payne recognized Kat’s utter confusion and her disbelief that she had been in a country torn apart by war and now in her own country, she was again threatened by those who disliked her or those who idolized others who professed their dislike for her. As they drove south on 59, Frank Payne told Senator Laforge that her husband and daughter were waiting at the Lancaster Hotel to reunite. It would be impossible to go home now because another group of protestors had converged in front of her house. Police in riot gear who had erected steel barriers protected her house and her neighbor’s residences. The police were on one side of the barrier and the protesters milled about on the other side. They consisted of boisterous teenagers and some college students who were on edge. A small number of older political activists participated and tried to maintain a calm.

  About 30 minutes after Kat landed in Houston, police were reporting a segment of the protest group were hurling sticks and bottles over the steel barrier. After police arrested a protester in front of their “fence line,” a fight broke out. The individual had damaged a car and tried to start a fire. In protest of the arrest, the crowd surged causing the police to use pepper spray and rubber bullets to disperse them. The Houston police provided the protestors with a degree of freedom to express themselves, but many of them were intent on causing property damage and the inability of others to use the street.

  As her limousine glided along the freeway toward downtown Houston, mental images of the angry protestors, her cheering supporters and her Iraqi experiences tumbled about in her mind. It was a darkness she wanted to leave behind her. The anticipation of seeing her husband and daughter make her even more restive. As they exited onto McKinney Street, familiar sights welcomed her back. A huge sign advertising “The Trip to Bountiful” starring Jean Stapleton at the Alley Theatre till May 10th caught her eye. This was the Houston theater district, where she had visited often to enjoy a play, ballet, symphony or an opera with her family. The sight of the Hobby Center, Alley Theatre, the soaring Chase Tower and familiar sidewalks unimpeded by protestors or her supporters calmed her. She actually felt a refreshing sense of anonymity envelope her. The limo turned right at Texas Ave and pulled up to the entrance of a 13 story European looking hotel replete with multinational flags and distinctive burgundy awnings. She looked out the limo’s window at the Lancaster
Hotel’s stately brass and beveled-glass front doors; somewhat hoping to see her husband and daughter, but only a smiling doorman awaited her.

  Within seconds of the limo parking, two more men appeared at the hotel’s entrance. One was a sharply uniformed valet who immediately took care of the Senator’s luggage and the other man was Mr. Murry the hotel’s concierge. With a welcoming smile, Mr. Murry said, “I am here to make your stay at the Lancaster Hotel a pleasant one. He offered Senator Laforge his card. Your family is anxiously waiting for you in the presidential suite. He continued, “Anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable at the Lancaster, please call me. I will be most happy to assist you.” He pointed to across the foyer, “That is the elevator to the Presidential Suite. I think you will find some very excited people waiting for you there.”

  Frank escorted her as she rode the elevator to the 12th floor of the Lancaster. “Frank, do you think they are going to recognize me when they see me?” Frank did not reply, but just looked at her inquisitively and smiled. While in Iraq her hair had become a silvery gray and the CIA agents insisted she maintain the disheveled look until she returned back to the states. Without access to a beauty parlor, that was easy to do. She did not feel like the elegant Senator that she was when she started her campaign.