“Ben, do try and lighten up a bit. There is some humor to be found in the situation. I mentioned some unusual phrases that allowed us to put things together? Our codebreaking didn’t know quite what to do with them, which is why they were flagged so quickly. Ben, you now have a code name in Chinese intelligence. Chairman Stud.”
Ben’s faced flushed instantly. “They put in the bug on Monday?” Memories returned. How they’d said that their weekend of abandon hadn’t quite been enough—
“There are worse code names,” the President said. “Hell, if it were mine, I’d be damn proud.” Cynthia shot him a withering look. Realizing he may have erred in bringing out the humor too soon, the President turned and signaled to the butler to bring another round of drinks.
Ben turned to Bernadette. “Did I hear correctly that you were informed of this on Thursday morning at your meeting at the agency? So this afternoon’s summons from the damsel in distress was to deliver a message to Beijing? And you accused me of treating work like a mistress! That little bauble, as you described, it wasn’t for me. It was for the Chinese.”
Ben set his glass down and walked toward the living area at the west end of the residence. He pretended to be staring at the view of the West Wing and the Executive Office building. Inwardly he was raging.
Cynthia gave Bernadette a deep look of sympathy. But Bernadette was still in business mode. As a wife she knew Ben would get over it. Her focus was on the moment. This guy actually does have a conscience, she thought about the President. He genuinely seems sorry for what he did to Ben. Maybe, like a lot of Americans, she underestimated the character of Will Turner. For some reason Ben seemed to appreciate Turner early on. So this must be completely devastating in more ways than mere embarrassment about the code name. He thinks Will betrayed him and he thinks I betrayed him. She looked away from Ben and over to Cynthia, who nodded sympathetically.
Then Cynthia Turner moved down the hall to Ben and put her arm in his. “She’s a great woman, Ben Coleman.” She could see tears in his eyes. “But even great women make mistakes. You know she didn’t mean to hurt you.”
All Ben could muster was a whisper. “I know.”
“You, Bernadette, Will, and I are in this together. I know that sounds corny, but it is true. Our fates are one. We’re going to have to stick together.”
Ben was silent.
“Between you and me, Will was an asshole for bringing it up without having checked the background first. He’s a good man. Good men make mistakes too.”
“When did you know?”
Cynthia knew he was testing this new relationship they had. This was going to hurt. “Thursday, when Will found out. He asked me what I thought about our sex life. I fibbed a bit as some wives do. And Will said, ‘This Coleman, he has it all. Looks, brains, stamina.’ I asked if he was jealous and all he could say was, ‘Wouldn’t you be?’ Truth be told, he wasn’t jealous. He was proud, the way a father or an uncle would be. Trust me. He would never do anything to deliberately hurt you any more than Bernadette would.”
Ben remained silent but let the First Lady gently lead him back to join the President and Bernadette. They arrived in time to hear Bernadette say, “Thank you, Mr. President. That was most generous.”
Turner approached Ben. “I was telling your lovely bride that this nation is going to owe the two of you an enormous debt of gratitude. I know what a sacrifice this is for you—admittedly more than I realized fifteen minutes ago. These are the kinds of debts that will never be known to the public at large. But I want you both to know that if you ever need a favor from the President of the United States—or far in the future an ex-president—you need only ask.”
Ben mumbled a less than convincing, “Thank you, sir.”
Cynthia Turner decided it was time to intervene lest the real business of the night slip through the cracks. “All this talk and we haven’t even had drinks yet. Will isn’t the only one who has forgotten his manners. Ben, I noticed you had brought a little bag with you. I assume that is for dinner? Let me have that decanted.”
As if on cue, a butler appeared from around the corner with a tray carrying four martini glasses.
“I took the liberty of selecting the cocktail for the first round since you selected the wine,” Cynthia said. “I figured we might need a strong one tonight. In retrospect I should have ordered a triple. Bernadette, it’s vodka, not gin. I wasn’t sure.”
Bernadette gave a polite nod as they took their glasses. “Cynthia, you remembered James Bond’s drink was a vodka martini, shaken not stirred.”
“Of course,” said the First Lady. “We should expect nothing less from the Red Ninja. Cheers, everyone, and thank you so much for coming.” She motioned them to the sitting room on the far west side of the family quarters where Ben had retreated.
Will Turner took charge. “I’m sure you saw Chris Avery’s little bit of grandstanding on “Power Lunch” this morning. Not sure I’ll be able to count on his vote for my reelection campaign. That’s not an announcement, so don’t tell the Federal Election Commission. They’d have me tied up in red tape faster than you could bat an eyelash.
“As you can imagine, the White House switchboard lit up more than the national Christmas tree. Folks are angry about the impact that China’s little ploy is starting to have. Our insta-polling from Thursday night showed ‘not tough enough on China’ gained four points, all at the expense of ‘just right.’ The eggheads and fellow travelers who think we’re being too easy haven’t been moved. It’s those guys in the middle whom I care about and Avery hasn’t budged them. Maybe even made them angrier by seeming to divide the nation.
“The direction of the movement in the polls is clear. I’d say we have three weeks, tops, before the pressure becomes too great and I will have to announce something more drastic.”
Noticing that the butler had discreetly returned to the doorway of the sitting room, Cynthia Turner motioned for them to move to the dining room table. “It’s the drastic part that worries me,” she said. “We don’t want to end up with a divided country over this. I think the sooner we respond, the more we can hold things together. To me its three weeks, tops.”
“You see who the real power behind the throne is.” The President smiled broadly to show that he meant it.
As they sat down, Bernadette said, “Mr. President, we are willing to help in any way we can.”
Ben shot her a warning glance that said, You two aren’t out of the woods yet, so don’t be rushing to offer any more than we already have.
The President seemed to read Ben’s mind and decided to extend an olive branch. Hell, he thought, it might take the whole damn olive tree. “I thought you’d say that, so I’ve come prepared. I’ve given a lot of thought to Ben’s idea, the Metropolitan Plan? At least that’s what George Steinway calls it.
“Ben, it is absolutely the right way to go. It appeals to my Midwestern instincts about how a country should work. So, policy-wise, you’re in charge. And you’re also right about me being the sales guy. A president has to do this, not the Fed chair, even though he’s the brains behind the whole thing. So think of yourself as the ventriloquist and me as your puppet on a string.”
Bernadette had never imagined a national leader saying that to anyone. Yes, it was largely spoken as a peace offering, and yes, the President obviously knew that this was the best—perhaps the only—way to get to Ben. But it was still a magnanimous thing to say and gave every appearance to have been said genuinely.
The President continued, “It looks like we’ll have to move on it before the three weeks is up. We’ll have to prepare the congressional leadership first. Start with the bipartisan leadership and the ranking members of both foreign relations and banking. They will gradually disseminate the ideas among their colleagues.
“I wish I could say that this was going to be a cakewalk, but there are bound to be some snags. Some of the hawks have already been in touch with me and are talking about slapping on tariffs while we
polish our bayonets. I wish that folks remembered that Trump’s tariffs were hardly a painless act in terms of domestic support. That might have worked for Trump when he faced down Xi, but it pissed off a lot of people in the process.”
“That was a trade war,” Ben said. “Different animal from what we’ve got now. This is an economic struggle.” Talking shop made him feel more comfortable despite the anger still inside him. And it was sinking in that he had won the President over on the Metropolitan Plan.
“We’re also going to have to keep an eye on Chris Avery,” said the President. “I don’t think he’s the type to put the knife in, but I wouldn’t put it past him to be eyeing your job, Ben, at least after I leave office. He’s positioning himself to be the choice of whoever leads the other party. A party man through and through, but one who can disguise it with high sounding phrases.”
“Good read on him, Mr. President,” Ben said. “He’s not a fan of my work, but I think he’ll come around to our side if we can make it attractive enough. But you’re right. He does need to be watched during all of this. He’s a living example of the Ten-Dollar Bill Rule.”
The others looked at him.
“Supposedly,” Ben explained, “it comes from a grizzled veteran Army drill sergeant. ‘You line up a hundred guys and start handing them ten-dollar bills, and there’s going to be one son-of-a-bitch who asks you for two fives.’ ”
They all laughed, feeling the air in the room lighten as they did.
“All right,” the President said. “At some point after the congressional briefing I am going to make another formal address to the nation. Best for that to come from the East Room, though they might let me address a joint session of Congress. That should be two weeks from this coming Monday. I figure that will give us next week to get our operational ducks in a row and the following week to start the briefing process.
“That kind of timing, coupled with a full court press, ought to get the bill through committee before the Fourth of July recess. Then they come back for three weeks before leaving for the August break. We can pass the legislation then. Total elapsed time from now is just under three months.” He looked right at Ben. “Your thoughts?”
“That sounds doable, Mr. President,” Ben said, “at least from my end. The FOMC meets the week after next, Tuesday and Wednesday. Technically the district banks that the presidents head own all the bonds in the System Open Market Account, which we call SOMA. The plan we have in mind is going to radically change the content of the SOMA and the operations of the Fed in implementing our policy. We will need a vote of the committee to formally agree to the plan.”
“Can we get that?” asked Turner.
“It’ll pass,” said Ben, “but there will be a lot of explaining to do, especially now that Avery is campaigning against it. I’d love to know how he found out about our plan.”
“I’ve got people on it,” said Turner.
Ben said, “I hope they’ll be very discreet. If Avery thinks he’s being investigated, it will fire him up and you and I will both be attacked as trying to set up a police state.”
“Discrete it is,” said the President.
Bernadette interrupted. “Gentlemen, there’s an old saying from spycraft. ‘Don’t ask a spy to hunt down the answer to a question you might not like the answer to.’ ”
“Meaning?” asked the President.
“Let’s do some elimination. Ben, do you think Avery broke into your office at night and rummaged through your desk to find notes?” She saw Ben shake his head. “Not to bring up a difficult subject, but it couldn’t have come from the Chinese because Ben and I never shared any information about it. That leaves four people as sources—you two gentlemen, George, and Dianne—the only people in the meeting. So do you want an investigation begun that will end up naming any of the four people who were in on the discussion?”
After a moment of taking it all in the President said, “Ben how did you find such a smart lady?”
“The same way you found yours, Mr. President. But remember, I started as just an escort, and sometimes returned to that status like I was at the start of this evening.”
Bernadette said, “Don’t you believe a word of this nonsense. He set a very elaborate trap worthy of a spy master. There was no escape.”
Ben decided to make a joke of what had happened tonight and spread some of his embarrassment around. “As I recall the only struggling you were doing that weekend was to get out of bed. Imagine if the Chinese had bugged your apartment back then? What would your nickname have been? I’ve got it—Queen Bee. Doesn’t she require a whole army.”
Cynthia decided her friend had suffered enough and started laughing hysterically. Between guffaws she managed to get out “Ben Coleman, you are too much! I do not want you hanging around Will anymore. It will take his language back to his football days and I have worked so hard to get him to grow up. You two really must have an extraordinary relationship.”
“We do, Cynthia,” Bernadette said. “And you’ve gotten a taste of why.”
“Sir,” said Ben, “my apologies for the distraction. But back to business. When we do the briefing of the Federal Open Market Committee and even the Congressional leadership, it would help if George Steinway and Hector Lopez could hold a briefing at the start of the meeting. Lopez will put the fear of God into them. Steinway will represent you and the administration’s willingness to go along. I will have to give a few key members a heads up, probably over the previous weekend. And if you need me to go to the Hill, I can do it the Thursday and Friday after the FOMC.”
Cynthia Turner said, “Bernadette, while the men are doing the arm-twisting in private, you and I are going to do the kinder and gentler work of uniting the country. You’re a famous novelist and a knockout speaker, so you have standing in your own right.
“As I see it, our job is to keep the country as calm as possible and build a national consensus. Let me start with one thing I am particularly worried about—the reaction of the public at large to Chinese Americans. Remember how, after 9-11, Bush went out of his way to reassure America that Muslim Americans were not a threat? Obama took that even further by not even using the phrase ‘Islamic extremist’ to describe the enemy.
“I thought to myself, what do all Americans think positively about what’s related to China? The answer is their local Chinese restaurant. So I propose that you and I have lunch at that fantastic place out in Seven Corners. They have the best dim sum.
“From there we go to some of the larger Chinese chamber of commerce groups and fraternal organizations. I think you should go on the morning shows and stress how we are all in this together. Your novels are high drama spy thrillers, so a theme like ‘Yes, we are at something like a cold war and it’s one we will win if Americans stick together,’ and then give a human side. Something about Ben and what it’s like living with a man under stress twenty-four seven. You could do that on the money channels as well.
“Ben’s input would be crucial about what to say and what not to say. That’s something for the two of you to discuss. But the personal side is surely going to help ratings. The morning shows are typically watched by women and the money channels are always interested in an inside look at the personalities of the Fed chairmen. That’ll be a real human-interest story and maybe even engender some sympathy.”
Bernadette said, “Of course,” and then noted that Ben sat passively during the First Lady’s pitch. Cynthia’s plan was really about him, even though Bernadette herself would be doing it. He’d had a rather distant stare through it all. This night isn’t over for us yet, she thought.
The ladies carried ninety percent of the conversation through dinner with President Turner interjecting at key moments. By nine-fifteen it was time to leave. Missions had been assigned. Everyone knew it would be a rough few weeks, though most had no idea just how rough they would be.
* * *
The Salamander Resort was a great place for a weekend getaway or a private conferenc
e. Excellent food, a first-class spa, and golf. Best of all, it was far enough outside the Beltway that there would be no media, and that was the organizers’ intent.
In the main conference hall a banner hung behind the moderators’ table at the front of the room. Enough Is Enough. Stop China Now. The first part of the phrase was sufficiently vague. Enough of what? Well, enough of lots of things. That is what brought these people together. Each represented an organization that had its own grievance.
By the standards of a K Street lobbying shop, those assembled represented a veritable dog’s breakfast of disparate interest groups. There were representatives of various manufacturer trade associations who had seen their businesses hollowed out by Chinese competition. They were joined by some of the smaller craft unions whose members had been hurt in the same fashion. Environmental groups were also present, notably the umbrella group GWC, the Global Warming Coalition—China was the largest emitter of carbon dioxide on the planet by a large margin.
Various human rights causes normally associated with the left were present, such as Human Rights Watch. The LGBTQ community had representatives angry about the persecution and murder of gays in China. The Free Tibet movement was there as was one of Hong Kong’s dissident legislators. Both would be delighted to join any organization that would weaken Beijing’s grip.
Groups normally associated with the right were there as well. Right to life groups were present to denounce the massive number of forced abortions that had been performed by the state to enforce its now-abandoned One Child policy. The Liberty Lobby was represented, a group that opposed big government both here and abroad. Finally, one could see remnants of the old Taiwan lobby present. Indeed, three of the former benefactors of that lobby, all right-leaning billionaires, were picking up the bill for the room. They had each also contributed $10 million to a fund to run the campaign.
Altogether about eighty delegates filled the room representing some five dozen organizations. But a professional lobbyist would notice one other fact about the group aside from the diversity of their interests: none of the big-name organizations was there. The AFL-CIO and the national Chamber of Commerce were not in attendance. Nor was the national right to life group. These larger organizations were quite bureaucratic. The gathering at the Salamander was for the lean and hungry, the entrepreneurial, and the second-tier groups who sensed a chance for an opening to the big leagues by hooking their wagons to the anti-China train and seeing where it would take them.
Currency War Page 20