Covenant - THE CONTROLLER 01

by Jerry Bruce

  Most of all, Richard wondered if his children would resent him for depriving them of a normal childhood. Would they become detached for the rest of their lives? That would kill Veronica. She could never be happy with children who only visited on major holidays and lived far from home. That would undermine her very nature, and it wouldn’t be long before she too started to resent him. Was he worrying needlessly? Was he making a mountain out of a molehill? Maybe he wasn’t giving them enough credit. They just might surprise him and adjust to the whole scene better than he could hope. Only time would tell.

  * * *

  “So, Adam, what’s the news today, good or bad?”

  “Well, Richard, I’d feel safe in saying that it’s all good.”

  “Great. Tell me more.”

  “I think I’ve filled the last staff position. I had an interview with a candidate that I think you are going to want on our side.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “I think this young lady is just what we need. She comes from a long line of politicians. Her name is Sarah Vallins. Before you ask—yes, her father is Senator Heath Vallins.”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  “No, sir, I’m not. She is excited about coming to work for you. I think she will be a great addition to our staff.”

  “Adam, what about her father? How do you think he’s going to react when he gets the news? Put yourself in his position, he has the Democratic Party all over his case because he hasn’t supported some of their programs and now you want to hire his daughter and put even more pressure on him. I can’t see where that is going to help him or us. He’s chairman of two committees that we need on our side and I’ve been trying to come up with ways to win him over. Somehow I don’t think this will do the trick.”

  “What if I told you that I’ve had a nice conversation with Senator Vallins and he thinks it’s a good idea we hire his daughter?”

  “I’d want a drink of whatever you’ve been having!”

  “I’m serious, Richard. I called his office after I talked to his daughter. She told me that she and her father have butted heads on numerous occasions over her being a Republican. But she also told me that the senator is sympathetic to much of our program.”

  “That’s extremely interesting, Adam. Did you discuss our program with the senator?”

  “At length, sir. He told me he hasn’t come forward because of some issues within his party. It turns out that he has support from two other Democratic senators on our initiatives that the Democrats would like to see buried—Social Security and free trade.”

  “You’re saying he is in agreement with my ideas on those two issues?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We can’t quote him, however, or else he will deny everything and go along with his party’s stand.”

  “This could be huge, Adam. With his support and two other Democratic senators, we might be able to get those programs implemented in no time at all. But let me ask you, would hiring his daughter be a good idea under the circumstances? I’m concerned with confidentiality. I wouldn’t want someone on my staff providing the Democrats with inside information.”

  “I didn’t have to raise the issue with her. She brought it up on her own and assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem. I told her that the first time she was suspected of giving out secrets, it would be the last.”

  “I have to tell you, Adam. I’m uncomfortable with this. What is your gut feeling? Ignore everything else and tell me what your gut is telling you.”

  “My gut is telling me to hire this lady.”

  “Okay. If you think it’s the move to make, then you have my blessing.”

  “Thanks, Richard. I don’t think we will regret hiring her.”

  * * *

  “You look exhausted, honey.”

  “You know, Ronnie, I wonder sometimes whether this torture is worth the result.”

  “Don’t go there. You know you’ll get past this, just like you always do.”

  “I know. I go through these periods of uncertainty every so often. I’m required to keep up an appearance of confidence and composure when at times I’m anything but. I know, deep down in my heart, that I have what it takes to be president. I know I can do the job at least as well as anyone, but sometimes… . Maybe it’s the doubts that are keeping me sane. That and your support. You always seem to say the right thing when it counts.”

  “Isn’t that why you married me? That and my charming personality?”

  “I can think of something else.”

  * * *

  “Are you serious? You actually gave Adam permission to hire Sarah Vallins?” Stephen couldn’t believe it.

  “That’s right, Stephen. I trust Adam’s judgment. That and he told me something that I think will knock your socks off.”

  “You’ve got my attention, Richard. Please proceed.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Stephen’s voice.

  “How do you think this would look as a headline: key Democratic senators pledge their support to new President Sinclair for Social Security reform and world trade?”

  “Are you trying to say that Vallins is going to support our programs?”

  “That is exactly what I’m saying. I got the word from Adam. Seems he had a lengthy discussion with our Senator Vallins and Vallins assured him, that as long as we keep this under our hats, we can count on his support as well as that of two other senators he didn’t name.”

  “Wow. That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “Stephen, do you have any idea who the other senators might be?”

  “If I had to hazard a guess, I would go with Andrew Thompson and either Bill Margolis or Alf Harrison. I would say Thompson is a good bet, Margolis is a fence sitter, but he is in tight with Vallins. There have been some indications over the last year that Harrison was softening on the free trade issue. In any case, having any combination of those three would be beneficial.”

  “So have you changed your mind about my decision to hire Sarah Vallins?”

  “I have to admit, Richard, you may have pulled off a significant coup.”

  “I won’t take credit for Adam’s work. He had to twist my arm to get me to go along with this decision. I was as surprised as you when he related his conversation with Vallins. If this plays out the way we hope, we’ll owe Adam a big favor.”

  “I’ll have to shake his hand the next time I see him.”

  “Just remember, if word of this were to leak out, all bets would be off.”

  “Well, Richard, there’s only one more thing to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have to win the election.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  All the anticipation and all the speculation would soon end with the closing of the polls on the West Coast. To no one’s surprise, the television networks were already predicting a landslide victory for Sinclair/Stephens. With only one percent of the votes tallied, the networks were racing each other for the honor of being the first to predict the winners.

  "You would think that after the debacle with Florida in the 2000 election that these people would have learned their lesson. Even a two year old won't touch fire after getting burned once," Stephen's drawl resonated throughout the room, his face showing the strain of the long day. All the handshaking and hugs, the long hours on his feet and a daylong headache that seemed impervious to medication contributed to baggy, bloodshot eyes and deep wrinkling. He wanted to loosen his tie and unbutton his dress shirt to see if he could relieve some of the tightness at the base of his skull, but with periodic appearances before the cameras, he didn't dare. It wouldn't be proper to have the vice president elect look frazzled on live TV. He wondered how Richard could appear so calm and collected. Little did he know that Richard was dying on the inside while putting up a good front on the outside.

  Richard, Stephen, Veronica, Elizabeth Hamilton and the media were awaiting the decision at the home of Adam and Joann Broderick. Adam insisted they all wait the
re so they could have some at-home comforts instead of using a hotel. All of them had spent far too much time in hotels lately. Everyone appreciated being able to find a quiet bedroom where he or she could nap for a few moments without scrutiny. Every time they were projected as the winners of a state, the bright TV lights were focused on them to get their reactions. It was going to be a very long night.

  * * *

  The Democratic candidate's concession speech was gracious and tasteful. There had been some ill feelings between the two camps and minor mudslinging, but less than the norm. Stephen's worry about an investigation into their campaign tactics never panned out. The opposition had toyed with the idea, but after the polls revealed that they were going to lose by an overwhelming margin, they backed off.

  Richard and Stephen talked to their contemporaries at length and each assured the other that they would do the best they could to bring the two parties together on important issues. Both sides realized that the days of partisanship must be a thing of the past if the country was ever going to move forward to a prosperous and stable economy.

  As they prepared to take the stage at the Washington Convention Center, their election night headquarters, Richard and Stephen shook hands and hugged each other. What had started as a friendship out of necessity was now one of true feeling each for the other. They had learned each other's likes and dislikes, and they had learned how to read the other's emotions. It had become a marriage of sorts, and they were looking forward to accomplishing great things together.

  Stephen spoke first and praised his Democratic counterparts for conducting a campaign that concentrated on the issues. He then thanked everyone involved in bringing them to this point, promising that he wouldn't let them down. After what seemed like an hour of cheering and clapping, he introduced Richard.

  As Richard led Veronica and the children onstage, they waved and blew kisses to faces they recognized in the assemblage of supporters. The crowd revived the cheering, bringing it to a fever pitch of excitement. After several minutes Richard stepped forward to the dais.

  Bringing the crowd to silence by raising his hands in a quieting gesture, Richard began his speech.

  "When we started down this path, we had no idea whether our journey would lead us to victory or defeat. We began with a vision of what we thought our country needed, but the path took numerous turns, and around each bend we found new challenges. We were forced to put our ethic to the test many times, and each time it grew stronger. The American people adopted our views and made them their own, and their overwhelming support has validated our beliefs. Now we must prove ourselves worthy of their faith. This victory is only the first step toward the attainment of our goals. We will not be deterred from bringing the American vision to fruition!"

  * * *

  "Yes, my friend, we will not be deterred. You and I together will accomplish much more than your measly little 'vision'—a great deal more. My agenda is all that matters now. Soon, Richard, very soon… .”

  He had met some resistance early in the campaign from the powerful National Longshoreman’s Union, which potentially could influence the vote of other labor unions. Sinclair’s carrying the labor vote was critical if he was going to stand any chance of winning the election. It didn’t take much investigating to find that, several years earlier, the union had misappropriated funds from the members’ retirement account. Even though the funds had been replaced, a federal investigation into the union’s practices could result in indictments against the union’s management. A few phone calls were all that were needed to bring the union over to the Sinclair side.

  He had been watching intently, switching the sound from one monitor to the next, taking in various analysts’ opinions. He had made sure that the Artistel television analysts were in compliance with his request for overwhelming support for the new president.

  It was all over now except for the formality of the inauguration. Tonight the man would let Richard enjoy himself and bask in his victory. He realized that Richard needed time to let it sink in. He wanted Richard to feel the glow of success and use the few remaining days before officially taking office to recoup some of his energy and enthusiasm. He would allow Sinclair to indulge his ego as part of the campaign healing process, and let his confidence feed on the fruits of his labors. The more confident and self-assured Richard became, the easier it would be to mold and shape him.

  "Here's to you Mr. President," he said, lifting his glass in a toast. The deep claret of the Château Lafite Rothschild was further enhanced by the clarity of the Waterford crystal wine glass. He turned the glass to the light so he could feast his eyes on the radiance of the color. He had commissioned Waterford to produce an exclusive pattern that would allow each prismatic cut to bring out the subtleties of a wine's color. He brought the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply. There was always an ulterior motive for his actions, except for this one. The savoring of a fine wine's appearance and fragrance was to him an end unto itself—pure enjoyment, exceeded only by the actual tasting. Wine must never be rushed. It wasn't rushed at any stage of its life cycle, and so should be its consumption. The first mouthful should be allowed to seduce the taste buds and tease them with even greater promise. He would consume the whole bottle before the night was over, but he wouldn't be intoxicated. That would cheapen a wine such as this. No, the glasses would be hours apart, allowing him to enjoy the experience anew.

  "I'm hopeful that you, too, appreciate a fine wine, Richard. Considering your background, I will be disappointed if you do not. I will surely enjoy sharing the experience with you—after we have reached our destination, that is."

  * * *

  The weather reports were calling for a sunny inauguration day. Of course, it would still be cold in view of the time of year, and there was an ample coating of snow, a testament to the recent storm. Richard was hoping the weather would cooperate and felt that the sunshine was a good omen in spite of the twenty-five degree temperature and bone-chilling fourteen-mile-per-hour wind. At noon on January 20th he would officially be the President of the United States, no matter what the weather.

  As the entourage left the White House in a procession of limousines and motorcycles, each person had a moment to reflect on the past few days. The moving in of the new guard and the departure of the old brought a joyful yet somber mood to the halls of the White House. The changes would go almost unnoticed by the average citizen, their focus being on the two presidents. Normally unseen was the chaos as each staff member had to continue to function while phasing out at the same time. Filling in one's replacement as to the details of ongoing business was at times compensated for by the knowledge that someone else was assuming a problem. It also carried with it the sadness of a task not fully accomplished. This was one of the smoothest transitions in recent history. Richard insisted that his staff treat their outgoing counterparts with the respect and dignity that they themselves would want.

  The president and first lady greeted the Sinclairs at the White House, having previously extended an invitation to have coffee before leaving for the Capitol. Veronica was tastefully dressed in a navy blue suit, with a powder blue blouse and minimal jewelry. Richard was clad in a black cashmere suit with matching overcoat. A white shirt with red, white and blue striped tie completed the ensemble. Both looked rested and refreshed, the final days of campaigning just a memory.

  The president and president-elect left for the Capitol at 11:15 a.m. Two Secret Service cars preceded their limousine, which in turn, was followed by four other cars carrying the wives, the vice presidents and their wives, both Veronica’s and Richard’s parents, and Randall and Jennifer. Another Secret Service vehicle followed the last car. Motorcycle police led and trailed the motorcade, with lights flashing.

  The ride to the Capitol building would have been more appreciated by the crowds lining the roadway if the presidential vehicle had an open or bubble top instead of a permanent hardtop and deeply tinted windows. The days of actually viewing the president in a mo
torcade had become a thing of the past as a result of the Kennedy assassination.

  The motorcade arrived on schedule, each vehicle unloading its passengers in turn with the president’s car being the last. All the participants would be seated before the departing and incoming presidents passed through the curtains separating the gallery from the waiting area. Once everyone else was escorted to his or her seat, Richard would make his entrance. The vice presidents and their wives, the children, and the presidents' wives already were seated in the front row when the outgoing president made his entrance to the playing of "Hail to the Chief.” This would be the last time it would be played for him as president and he could feel the tears welling. He suppressed his feelings and took his seat while the fifty thousand plus in attendance gave him a warm welcome.

  It was twelve-fifteen p.m. when Richard came through the curtains and started down the steps to the inaugural stand.

  Once Richard was seated next to his predecessor, the Chairman of the Joint Congressional Inaugural Committee appeared at the lectern as the Marine Band began the ceremony with "America the Beautiful."

  Following a brief invocation by the Catholic archbishop of Washington, D.C. and the singing of the national anthem, Stephen Hamilton came forward to take the vice presidential oath of office from Speaker of the House, Martin Weaver.

  A short prayer by the pastor of the Central Christian Church of Austin, Texas, a close friend of Stephen’s, preceded the vice presidential oath after which Richard rose and moved forward to take the oath of office, administered by Lawrence Maylor, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. The president-elect’s hand rested on a valuable Douay Version of the Bible provided by Jonathan Radliff.