Power Games: Operation Enduring Unity I Read Free Page B

wasn’t terribly disturbing to the assembled congressional representatives, the president’s absence spoke volumes to those watching from home.
    There were also no military bands or other traditional trappings of power. The Armed Forces, upholding an old tradition in America, were careful to stay apolitical and give no appearance of supporting any individual politician. Not a single uniform could be seen within a mile.
    The security staff’s decision to limit the audience to a tiny, prescreened group of mostly second-tier VIP’s made things even worse. The Capitol Lawn wasn’t even a quarter full. The media kept panning over the small crowd and made as much a fuss over the embarrassing turnout as how not a single representative from any foreign embassy showed up. The winter wind lashed icy rain against those that did attend. Their cringing glumness made for great TV.
    The cherry on top of this crap sundae was having the actual swearing in done by some retired Chief Justice. The idea that seemed so full of rich symbolism when planned in the office came across weak and pathetic in practice. The hunched over, 80-year-old in an ill-fitting suit was missing that indefinable something lending authority to a robed Supreme Court Justice.
    Congress gamely carried through with the ceremony anyway. Most commentators, comedians and those bothering to watch it live had a blast with the show. Others took in the pathetic ceremony of weakness and counted up the opportunities.
    Pierce’s handlers wearily tallied the opinion poll results in real time. Their career prospects sinking as fast as the numbers. Finally convinced, they made some calls to their counterparts at the White House and in Senator Dimone’s campaign office. They’d pushed brinksmanship as far as possible and probably further than practical. Time to make a deal. While they still had some marginal public support left.



In the Midnight hour
    Washington, DC
    20 January: 2330
    Both quasi-presidents, Pierce and Dimone, huddled around a giant conference table in the White House. The current tenant of that famous museum refereed their conference. Tieless and sleeves rolled up, they sure looked busy. Around them orbited twenty assistants, top lobbyists and no-title “advisors” doing the heavy lifting. Only after the staffers reluctantly shook hands with each other would they whisper the details into whichever Big Man’s ear they served. Seconds later that politician would formally propose the new terms, which were always met with unanimous agreement.
    While the leaders of the three sides put the finishing touches on their long anticipated succession deal, an aide wheeled in a large television. No matter how hard the president tried, he couldn’t escape that damn idiot box. He glared at his excited chief of staff.
    “You better be right that this guy is worth the interruption. I can’t possibly imagine how the rantings of Florida’s nutty governor can be more important than this meeting.”
    His senior staffer shook his head. “Take a look, sir. It was a surprise announcement. We’ve already missed the first few minutes of it, but you won’t believe what he’s going on about. As far as we can tell, he’s dead serious! I don’t think Governor Rhett’s acting this time.” He flicked the television on and caught the chunky demagogue in mid-speech.
    Florida’s Governor Rhett sported a bright red power tie and a comically oversized American flag lapel pin. He came close to pulling off the FDR fireside chat effect in his replica Oval Office. The symbolism was lost when he opened his mouth though.
    “ Now, ya’ll know I’ve never been a fan of the Washington regime. I don’t reckon I’m alone in that respect, but today, we’re far beyond simple disagreement over policy. For the millionth time, our supposed leaders, of both parties, have shown how utterly inept they are.
    “Through their petty, childish bickering, they’ve shut the government down yet again.