The Parnell Affair (35 page)

“Fools!” Pete growled.  “All Europeans there, too, I don't doubt, and they always sneer at Americans.  Never remembering what we did for them, never grateful.  Ha, as if they had a right to expect us to save their asses.  Right?” Pete asked, recovering and trying to launch Paul onto a topic he often enjoyed shouting about.

“Yeah,” Paul said, refilling his glass and then staring down into it.  “Goddamn major shareholders are the same way.  I was CEO of Administration Oil, but to the major shareholders, I was a servant.  Didn't have the kind of money where I could just own enough stock to make demands of the company, I had to work—and they knew it.  Knew their place was above mine.  I was there to make the money and shut up.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Pete said as if fending off an accusation.  He shook himself and then dug Paul in the ribs.  He couldn't let Paul wallow, couldn’t be dragged into that mood—he needed his VP with what lie ahead.  “Maybe for a year or so, but to hell with that.  You were
the
major shareholder before long.  Your place is at the top, not among the shareholders—or the common people.  Why look at what we've done—and are about to do!  Those who ought to lead, who ought to wield power, are those
who lead, who wield power
.  Snap out of it, Paul!  Your place is amongst the highest in the land and your being here proves it.  And as it takes money to wield power in the world, our opening the resources of Iraq will secure all the power that's rightfully ours.  Those who ought to lead, succeed!”

“You're right,” Paul said absently.  He then looked up as if considering what Pete said.  “You
are
right.”

“Of course I am,” Pete said.  “So don't worry about what those damn fools thought or did.”

“I'm not worrying,” Paul said and took a quick drink.  “I'm just hating Clyde!  It's like you said, we're about to make up for all the advantages that others enjoyed early on and we had to do without—but not because we didn’t deserve them!  With this little war, we'll take what's ours by right.  It's like you said, since I have the power to make this happen—despite the stupid laws and regulations put in place by lesser people trying to degrade the great—that proves they were wrong.  I'm the fittest!  Survival of the fittest!  And that makes it right.  How else could you know who should wield power except by seeing who's strongest?  And to do that, somebody’s got to lose.  And that's what these liberal jackasses don't understand!” Paul said, coming to life.

“Or do they understand it only too well?” Pete said with a knowing tilt of his head.  That's right, Paul, Pete thought, come into the present.  “Someone has to lose in the rise of power—and don't they know who that someone is?”

“Yeah, yeah, and it's wrong!” Paul hollered.  “It's wrong.  Social Security and Medicare and all that crap, it elevates lesser people above their place—and that's unfair to those who deserve it.  If you can't afford to retire or get a pill then down in the mud you go!  It's as right as rewards and privileges going to those strong enough to take them.  It's not right to apply laws and codes and regulations to those with the power to ignore them: those things are just hoops for little people to jump through.  We do the same thing in business; make our minions jump through hoops, follow procedures until we're sure they're loyal and 'want it' and will do what's necessary without balking and then we can trust them with some responsibility.  But those who make the hoops don't get anything out of jumping through them!  The people who say we should are just trying to elevate themselves above their place without doing anything—by dragging our place down closer to theirs!  And that's not right!”

“You're right,” Pete said, finishing and then refilling his glass.  “You're a hundred percent right.  I don't like thinking poorly of people but the facts are plain.  They don't like thinking of themselves as weaker and so they've constructed this fairytale about their 'rights.'  The only problem is that it flies in the face of reason.  Those who lead, succeed.  Those with power, take privilege.”

“That's right and with this little war,” Paul said, leaning over the arm of his chair with a macabre grin, “we'll set things to rights and correct the accidents of fate.”

“Yes,” Pete said absently.  He's coming out of it, he thought, he seems better now.

“All we should have had—and our rightful place in the world denied for their inexplicable lack—will be returned,” Paul said, leering.  “What's ours is there for the taking, if we're strong enough to take it.”

“And we are,” Pete said, feeling as if he'd missed something, as if his mind had wandered and in his absence the conversation had inverted.

“I know, Pete,” Paul said, laying a cold speckled hand on his friend's sleeve.  “I know how tough it's been for you, making decisions that send these people who choose to become soldiers off to die.”

“The toughest thing I've ever done,” Pete said in the voice of someone too proud to ask for mercy but hopes for its offer.

“But don't
you
worry about that,” Paul said.  “That's
their
place, that's
their
lives.  Would they want
your
decisions?  Never!”

“No, they wouldn't,” Pete said, unconsciously nodding.

“That's right,” Paul said, falling back into his chair.  “That's the right way round of things.  That's their part to play—hell, risking your life is nothing—and they'll get the honor their after, we'll give them medals.  But giving orders?  Now, that can only be done by someone special, by someone strong enough to take the power to give them, and the struggle to seize that power makes it right.”

Pete stared off into space, nodding absently for a moment before he spoke.  “Yes, yes that's right,” he said.  “No one who's ever done this would want to do it without cause.  But we do know it's right—beyond question—because none of this could happen unless it was as god intended.”

“Yes!” Paul cried.  “If there are any hoops we have to jump through—in order to force this war, to rise to our rightful place among the kings of this world—then it's right because those hoops are set out by god and only god is above us!”

Friday morning, Tobias bundled up against the morning cold and biked to the train station, where he knew the newsstands would receive some of the first copies of
The Washington Observer
.  He and Sally, upon his return, breathed a mutual sigh of relief: no last-minute unforeseen mischance had hindered their story's appearance.

“The question now becomes,” Sally said, “what will the network news do with it?”

“Because we know what the cable news will do,” Tobias said.

The morning news shows, however, made no mention of the Niger doc forgeries.  Tobias tried to salve Sally's obvious disappointment by observing that the regular staff of such programs were still on holiday.  The evening news shows did pick up the story but in every instance described it as “calling into question” the veracity of the Niger documents.

“I only wish this were surprising,” Tobias said, sipping coffee on the couch with Sally sprawled beside him, half across his lap.  “The real test will be tomorrow when we see how many newspapers pick up and reprint the story.”

“And Sunday,” Sally added, “when the news/interview shows debate the week's top stories.  They won't still be using the second string by then, do you think?”

The TV news was interrupted, however, before Tobias answered.  A special report screen called their attention as a deep announcer’s voice proclaimed an unexpected press conference called by the White House.  Sally sprang up, fumbling for the remote to turn up the volume.  Donald L. LeGierz then appeared behind a blue podium before the Presidential seal and announced the capture of Khalid Sheikh Kahtani, mastermind of 9/11 and second in command of Al Qaeda.  LeGierz briefly described the mission and the proofs of “KSK's” capture, thus beginning the general abbreviation of the man's name.  LeGierz took no questions and the evening news babbling response to the announcement was not worth watching.  Tobias shut off the television.

“How convenient,” Sally said, leaning her elbows on her knees.

“Wonder how long they've had him on ice, waiting to wheel out the good news in response to some bad,” Tobias said, stroking her back.  “In a way, it tells us how worried they are: they wouldn't have run that story in this otherwise quiet media market—with so many people away on vacation—unless they knew they had to counter our story.”

“I suppose you're right,” Sally said.  “But why do I feel we've miscounted the trumps?”

“You too?” he said and tried to laugh.  “We won't really know anything until Congress returns to DC and decides what to do with our story.  If nothing else, it gives the Dems plenty of ammo with which to fire accusations of incompetence at the Administration.  Hey, that could be their main concern, the White House's, which is why they wheeled out KSK's capture.  To say, 'look, look, we did something right.'”

“Let's cling to that hope,” she said.  “But we proved it!  Not intent, perhaps, but that their case for war was based on lies.  I don't know,” she sighed, falling back into the couch.  “Maybe you're right.  Maybe this is merely them undermining our bad news.  Maybe it's a sign that they're refocusing their attention on Afghanistan.  That's cold comfort, though.”

Tobias put his arm around her.  “We'll know more when Congress returns,” he said.  “And when the town is back to normal, maybe I'll go and pay LeGierz another afternoon visit—demand an official apology from the White House to a Ms. Sally Parnell.  Round two.”

“Ha, round two,” she said.  “Jab him one right in the mouth.  I'm starting to dislike his puckering little face.”

The Sunday news/interview shows did indeed treat the Niger document forgeries but, as Tobias predicted, they seemed content to question the Administration's competence rather than follow the trail of circumstances toward the conclusion of conspiracy and malice aforethought which the internet and protest groups seized upon.  But the internet was disregarded by in large, and the weather was too cold for any serious protesting; most Americans have come to view such spectacles as little more than impromptu parades, with less content than traffic interruptions.

The first week of January seemed likely to further the anticlimax as Tobias met with uncharacteristic difficulties in obtaining access to returning Senators.  His press pass was even challenged at one of the Senate Office Buildings.  Appointments were impossible, staff walked the other way at Tobias's approach, and if he managed to ambush a Senator or Representative outside the office, Tobias might as well have had the plague or been a prostitute judging by their backpedaling and looking this way and that for cameras.  Had he ruined his name?  He couldn't believe it; no
Congressman was involved in his story.  He wished Jim MacPherson—or the Senator he worked for, Senator Sablevini—would return so he could get a clear answer.  But neither Jim nor Sablevini had returned to Washington yet.  And then it hit him.  Only Republican Congressmen had returned early from their constituencies.  The Democratic Congressmen were taking their time.

It was nearly another week before the Democratic caucus returned to Washington but when it did Tobias was greeted with open arms.  Doors were held for him, first-term Representatives ran to shake his hand, and every Chief of Staff and strategist wanted to buy Tobias a drink and pick his brain.  He ate three lunches a day, all at invitation.  The congratulations were expressed with the true sincerity often evinced by self interest.  And always amongst such well-dones and ata-boys were calls for more dirt.  In particular they wanted to know what Tobias had left out of his story—what he knew but couldn't print.

“You do, do you?” he asked one evening at a pub known for the discretion of its staff.  “And what do I get in return?”

“Ha ha!  I'd give you my first born but you wouldn't want the maintenance costs,” Senator Bill Snajder said.

“Oh, that's right,” Tobias said, “he's in law school now, isn't he?”

“First Princeton, now Harvard,” Snajder said.  “He thinks they pay us something in the Senate.  If it weren't for his mother's career,” he said and took a drink theatrically.

“Well, skip the first born son and just tell me what you plan to do with the story you've got,” Tobias said.

“We won't let them forget it,” Snajder said.  “Every appropriations meeting, every vote on military spending, and certainly every bit of business in SSCI will be preambled by a reference to the forged Niger documents.”

“And what about an investigation?” Tobias asked.

“Oh, be reasonable, will you?” Snajder said.  He motioned to the bartender for two more.

“Unless you do something with the story,” Tobias said, “more than rub their noses in it, why should they drop their ambition to start a war?  An investigation could reveal who forged the Niger documents and who ordered it.”

“With the Republicans in control of both houses?” Snajder said.  “Act your age.  It would never even come to a vote.  Listen, if we make things tough enough on them, they'll have to put so much energy into staying in power that they won't have enough left over for starting unprovoked wars.”

“Unless the war is
how
they stay in power,” Tobias said.

“No, no, just wait for the State of the Union,” Snajder said, waving a hand.  “After the dot-com bubble burst, we've had a jobless recovery.  They'll focus on the economy, on tax breaks for the wealthy, doing away with the estate tax, and deregulation.  They won't have time for war because they'll be focusing on their campaign contributors.”

“I hope you're right,” Tobias said.  “And I've seen the most recent polls: the majority of the country doesn't believe Saddam has nuclear weapons.  But neither of those things clear the name of the woman whose career was destroyed and life taken away from her at the start of the whole Niger document affair.  How about voting through a formal apology to Ms. Sally Parnell?”

“And here I thought it was
Mrs.
,” Snajder said, smiling but holding in a laugh.

Tobias said nothing.

“Seems I recall someone telling me she'd been seen at
The Four Seasons
with a reporter from
The Observer
,” Snajder said.

Tobias told him the same as last time.

“Aw, you can tell me—off the record!” Snajder said, shaking Tobias by the arm.  “You didn't think that was a secret?  Not that I blame you.  Jesus, but that's a beautiful woman.”

“Come on, Bill,” Tobias said.  “They took everything from Sally.  You say, with the Republicans holding both houses, an investigation is unlikely, maybe impossible.  Okay.  But a little simple recognition that she was wronged?”

“That, I'll try,” Snajder said.  “I doubt I'll get anywhere with it, but I'll try.  It'll all change in '04, though.  We're bound to pick up seats, the way they're running things.”

“2004!” Tobias said.

“What do you want?  We need the seats to do anything,” Snajder said.  “An apology may be a great idea, actually: give us a non-partisan excuse to hold hearings.  Now, what comes out in those hearings—” he took another drink.

“And you think their giving up on war with Iraq?” Tobias asked.

“Just wait for the State of the Union,” Snajder said.  “You'll see.  I heard there's some other evidence of WMD in Iraq, but it's minor; I figure it's little stuff they're throwing out there to make themselves look less gullible for believing in that Niger document crap.  Wait for the State of the Union Address.  They'll focus on the economy, we'll tear them apart on jobs and program cuts next November, take back at least one chamber—if not the White House—and then we'll see about public apologies—and investigations.”

Tobias had pushed for interviewing members of the Howland Administration—including the President—but some in the office were against his doing so, namely the Editor in Chief and Les Vonka.  The EIC, seemingly troubled by the lukewarm response to Tobias's first exposé on the forged Niger documents, had called off any further installments without additional evidence.  Tobias would have needed his pull—at the very least—to even make overtures to the White House for interviews; without his support, it was impossible.  Vonka and a couple national-desk reporters weren't keen on Tobias's usurping their beat and also let it be known that further investigations ought to go through them.  Tobias had never bothered much with intra-office turf battles—they were happy enough to accept his help in the past—but couldn't simply circumvent the opposition without more to add to his story.  And so he repeated to himself Senator Snajder's advice and waited for the State of the Union Address.

For the event, he and Sally made popcorn and opened a bottle of prosecco (Tobias had had to face facts and start economizing; Sally paid no attention, hoping she hadn't imposed upon him or embarrassed him).  As was usually the case, they stayed at his apartment; the ghosts of husbands past made her house a bit awkward.  As the House Sergeant at Arms announced the President of the United States of America on Tobias's little TV, Tobias and Sally shared a look, crossed their fingers, and took a drink for luck.

The pomp and fanfare of the President's address to Congress despite its populist trappings and fiction of equality among the branches of government, had all the atmosphere of a royal visit.  The Republican caucus stomped their feet and cheered in addition to the more traditional applause.  President Howland glad-handed his way forward, buoyant in stride like a prize fighter meeting his crowd.  The Speaker of the House had just the right amount of trouble calling the Congress to order, punctuated by a comic look of disapproval at the President as if to say, 'If you weren't so adored, this would be easier.'  As if at a signal not seen on camera, however, the assembly took their seats and the President began.

After the ceremonial greeting of the Vice President and Speaker of the House, the
Congress, and the people, the President opened his list of accomplishments and plans with his education mandate, an ambitious plan to improve flagging test scores through high standards and privatization.  Next he detailed the creation of the Department of Homeland Security.

“There's something vaguely fascist in that name,” Tobias murmured.  “I've never liked it.”

“More layers of bureaucracy to filter intelligence through,” Sally said.  “That'll make it more timely.”

The President then addressed a recent corporate scandal, the largest in US history to that date, and promised reform.  Noting the high jobless rate, the President declared the solution was to cut taxes, particularly on investments, and balance the budget.  In addition, the President urged
Congress to adopt a plan that called for Social Security funds to be placed in 'retirement accounts,' which invested the money in the stock market.  From there he tackled the other great social welfare topic: healthcare.  The President decried the notion of “nationalizing” healthcare providers and then declared the need to strengthen Medicare and form a government program to subsidize prescription drugs.

“So government meddling in healthcare is bad,” Sally said, “so we need a stronger Medicare—the biggest and most popular government program?  And then add a huge prescription drug plan on top of it?  How do you do that while reducing revenue through tax cuts?”

“By balancing the budget, silly,” Tobias said facetiously.

The war on drugs, abortion, faith-based abstinence programs to fight the spread of AIDS in Africa, and even a multibillion dollar program to develop hydrogen power cells all came in due course.