The Return of Elliott Eastman (13 page)

Chapter Thirty

The ancient clerk of the Senate Armed Services committee looked about the expansive room, noted everyone was here and leaned forward speaking into the microphone.

“The Senate Armed Services committee pursuant to the Senate calendar is hereby in order on this the 3
^rd
day of January, 2018 at 2:30 p.m. to consider SB 1190, ‘The War on the Deficit’. The Honorable Senator Carl Nevin presiding.”

One of the oldest standing committees on the hill, the members thirty six strong sit in a semi-circle with the chairman sitting in the center facing the eighty some odd seats open to the public.

Senator Carl Nevin entered the oak-paneled room through a side door and took his seat.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen. The meeting is now in order. The Bill will be considered read by a simple vote of the yeas and nays. The yeas will be heard first. Those in favor of considering the bill read will say aye.”

A rumble of ayes rumbled from the seated senators.

“And the nays?”

There was no sound. None of the senators were interested in spending four hours reading the entire eighty page bill before commencing the meeting.

“An opening statement will be read by the Honorable Joseph Blieberman, a senator from Connecticut.”

“Thank you Mr. Chairman. I rise in opposition to this bill. It is too far reaching. The closing of so many bases at this dangerous point in the history of our great country is unwise. I have spoken to members of the sub-committee on Emerging Threats and Capabilities and there is grave concern that new cyber attacks could cripple our capabilities. Our ground troops are the front line of defense against aggressors who would harm the American people. They are the face of our great nation across the world. They are the reassurance to our friends across the world that America stands ready to side with them in defense of their lands, their families, their very lives. It is easy, especially during times when our budgets are under the microscope, to say these good people of our armed services aren’t earning their keep, but I personally find this disingenuous, dishonorable and unpatriotic. I yield to the chair.”

The chairman noted Roger Portman, Senator from Ohio was standing.

“For what purpose does the good Senator from Ohio stand?”

“I rise in favor of the bill. This bill is far reaching, but the portion we are gathered to deal with is an age old question and one that I feel is high time we dealt with effectively and sensibly. Ladies and gentlemen, we have one million four hundred eighty thousand troops deployed around the world. We have 762 bases, or it might be 862, or it might be 1088, or it might be 1077. The Department of Defense isn’t even positive how many bases we have, although in fairness to them it depends on how one defines ‘bases’. They don’t count anything under ten acres in size. The point is we have so many bases we can’t be sure what the total count is. I ask you, and please remember I mentioned the word sensibly, do we need 54,000 troops in Germany on thirteen different bases? Are we afraid if we left that Russia would attack Germany? Do we need 39,230 troops on 29 different bases in Japan? Do we need 8,300 troops in England? Do we need 9,170 in Italy? We spend 20% of our annual government income on defense. The good Senator and colleague from Connecticut mentioned cyber crimes. I agree with him cyber crime is the wave of the future. If we were to close just 400 bases, some which have been around for sixty years after World War II, we would have that much more in the way of funds to combat the wave of cyber crimes coming our way. I yield to the Chair.”

“Thank you Mr. Portman.”

Tom Coryn stood to be heard.

“For what purpose does the good Senator from Texas rise?”

“I rise in rebuttal to my colleague from Ohio.”

“Proceed.”

“Closing 400 bases at once is outlandish. It will flood the country with unemployed ex-service people. It is irresponsible and unconscionable to even consider such a move. We will abandon our friends around the world. Our word to defend and protect our friends overseas will mean nothing. Are we to turn our backs on our patriotic obligations? I cannot in good conscience consider such a thing. I yield to the Chair.”

“Thank you.”

Senator Portman stood to be recognized again.

“For what purpose does the good Senator rise?”

“I rise in rebuttal to my colleague from Texas.”

“Proceed.”

Portman turned to face Coryn, which was out of the ordinary. In most cases the senator would face the chair.

“Since 2001, defense spending has gone up 416%. We have the most extensive network of bases the world has ever seen. The Byzantine, Ottoman, Roman and British empires had nowhere near our numbers. We have bases in 150 countries. 360,000 pounds of mail are delivered to Iraq and Afghanistan every day. The military operates 172 golf courses. You want patriotic Mr. Coryn? You want protection for every country around the world? You want honorable … ?”

“I do not like the way you are addressing me, sir, and suggest you stop this instant!”

“You want patriotic Mr. Coryn,” said Portman almost shouting. “Let’s start the ball rolling in the right direction. Let’s get this great country out of debt. Let’s… !”

Chairman Nevin was smashing the gavel on his table, shouting, “To order! To order!”

Senator Portman finally fell silent.

“Another outburst by either one of you gentlemen and I will move to have you censored. Do you understand?”

Each of them nodded and sat down.

“For the record, make note they both have agreed,” Nevin instructed the keeper of the journal.

Senator Portman stood again.

“For what purpose does the Senator from Ohio rise?”

“I have a question for Senator Coryn.”

“Proceed.”

“How much have you been offered to kill this beautiful bill? What are they promising you?”

Coryn stood again, shouting, “This is outlandish. You will impugn my character in front of my colleagues?”

Coryn lunged at Portman as the gavel came down again.

“Order! Sergeant at Arms! Sergeant at Arms!” Nevin cried.

The portly Sergeant at Arms rushed down the aisle, but Coryn held up a hand. “I move to recess.”

“Move to recess denied,” Nevin nearly shouted, then reconsidered. Soothing his coat and wiping his brow with a hankie he intoned, “A vote of the yeas and nays is ordered with regard to recess for fifteen minutes.”

Thirty-six yeas responded almost instantly.

Chapter Thirty-One

The meeting in the Senate Finance Committee chambers was a much more subdued affair. The Chairman, Senator Graham and his staff along with the ranking members had been very careful in selecting who was to bear testimony in regards to the Financial Transaction Tax aspect of the ‘War on the Deficit’ bill. The room only sat 150 people and Graham made sure it was packed with representatives from the American Bankers Association, the ABA Securities Association, the Managed Fund Association, the Futures Industry Association, the Institute of International Bankers, the Financial Services Roundtable, the International Swaps and Derivatives Association, the Investment Company Institute and the Securities Industry and Financial Markets Association. Not a single soul represented any of the myriad groups who stood in support of SB 1190.

“The meeting will now come to order,” Graham said. “The first guest to speak will be David A. Stanwick from the Managed Fund Association.”

A rail thin man with wavy grey hair and horn-rimmed glasses approached the podium, cleared his throat and said, “Thank you Mr. Chairman and members of the committee for inviting me to speak today. The MFA appreciates the opportunity to express its views regarding the proposed Financial Transaction Tax, or more specifically the Securities Transaction Tax. As a result of market structure changes, many aspects of our equity market-spreads, fees, execution speed, efficiency and pricing have drastically improved over the last several years to the benefit of investors. Although the MFA supports the committees efforts to review our rapidly developing market structure and to collect data to assist in the evaluation of a Securities Transaction Tax, our overall judgment is that such a tax is ill-timed and will result in a rollback of many of the efficiencies we have achieved. With hundreds of thousands of trades per hour, the MFA believes the STT is going to slow down each trade while a certain percentage, however miniscule, is removed. Even if it takes a tenth of a second to identify the dollar amount and remove it, this will add hours to each trading day. I thank the committee for its time.”

Elliott was watching on the Banking Committee’s streaming video feed online and commented, “You already trade after hours. And if a trade takes a split second the fee can be reconciled later,” he growled.

If he already didn’t like the tone of the committee hearings he liked them even less when Graham didn’t allow for a question and answer period, which was standard procedure in an investigative hearing, and moved right along to the next speaker.

“The next speaker is Chris Edwards, President of Futures Industry Association,” Graham announced.

“Damn,” Elliott shouted as he slammed his fist on the coffee table. “Isn’t a single senator going to question this blatant breach of procedure?”

Edwards dove right into his testimony. “Thank you Mr. Chairman and esteemed committee members. The Futures Industry believes that any legislative proposal that seeks to expand regulatory control in this area and to establish a new tax compliance framework will, in the end, be counterproductive. The ultimate effect of enacting such legislation will be to drive the industry overseas. At the very least it will make the U.S. Futures exchanges much less competitive vis-à-vis foreign exchanges. Examples of similar failed attempts at a similar fee abound around the world. Japan imposed a transaction tax in 1987. At first it generated significant revenues, but in four years revenues dwindled over 80% because market volume shifted overseas. Sweden experienced similar results when they tried a transaction tax. In 1993 Taiwan imposed a transaction tax on the value of commodities futures contracts and lost trading volume to the Singapore Exchange. The Futures Industry has a long and successful and innovative history in clearing futures contracts including previously ‘unclearable’ over-the-counter derivatives such as energy and credit default swaps.

“The tax structure you are considering would, I fear, result in the same experiences as the aforementioned countries. I thank you again for your time.”

“Hey Chris, you forgot to mention that both Japan and Taiwan imposed fees that are thirty times higher than we are recommending,” Elliott spoke to the computer screen, his anger growing by the minute. “And maybe someone could mention that France, Germany, and England already impose such taxes and England gets $40 billion a year with a tiny fee. Hell, many cities have a transaction tax on the sale of a home.”

There was a soft knock on the door and Greer stuck his head in the door. “Can I get you something sir? Perhaps a sedative is in order?”

Elliott laughed and then grabbed his side. “Sorry Greer, I’ll keep it down. They are just tearing the guts out of SB 1190.”

“I understand sir,” Greer acknowledged and eased the door closed behind him.

Senator Graham moved right along to the next speaker, calling up Michael Ettlinger from the American Bankers Association.

“Thank you Mr. Chairman and Committee members, I thank you for asking me to speak here today. The ABA is deeply concerned that in a climate of extreme joblessness the leaders of this great nation would impose a potentially crippling financial fee which could exacerbate the situation and cost thousands of jobs on Wall Street. There are often unintended consequences as my esteemed colleague Mr. Edwards pointed out. One such consequence that may pose a great peril to us all is that such a fee structure would be a constant net drain on the money supply and would be highly deflationary. It is the ABA’s position with no equivocation whatsoever that such a fee structure would establish an unnecessary impediment to investment activities and job creation in the United States. And again, I thank you for your time.”

Elliott almost slammed his fist down again but hesitated because it still ached a little from the earlier blow. “Deflationary? And what do you think, my good banker friend, is the impact of paying $400 billion a year in interest on our debt to the Chinese and Japanese? And the proposed fee will only exist for a few years. Damn them they are so self-serving!”

His cell phone rang. It was the President.

“Did you see that charade?” he asked, his voice filled with pent up anger.

“Yes, and not one person on that committee questioned an obvious disregard for the committee rules.”

“If this is how it’s going to be then I will call an emergency joint session of Congress and bring in my Economic Council and give opposing views to every damn one of the points they just made.”

“I like the idea, but let’s hold off until we see what the Appropriations Committee does.”

“Hold off … when do the gloves come off Elliott? This is a beautiful bill as written. Are we simply going to watch it die? We can’t let it die.”

“It won’t die, Paul. And the gloves will come off, but we must pick the place and time.”

In disgust Elliott turned off the computer and went out onto the deck to read the Wall Street Journal. He read it religiously every morning, but this morning his mind wandered.

Elliott set the paper down on the wooden deck and stared into the distance for a moment. The President’s phone call had disturbed him more than he let on. He recalled the stark numbers; only two Discharge Petitions in the last fifty years had led to a bill being signed by the president. A Discharge Petition with SB 1190 sitting in three separate committees was never going to work. They’d been lucky in the House with the Discharge, but could not count on such luck in the Senate.

Pondering the situation he realized he needed to reach out to the public, to the good people of the land and somehow let them know what was taking place in the Halls of Congress. Much of what their congressional leaders did was hidden from the view of the public. There may be no legal way to introduce a National Referendum, but the next best thing would be to have a show of force in support of SB 1190. The text messaging had been a success. It had made people aware of what the bill contained and how it would change their lives, but the American public had a notoriously short attention span. He needed someone with connections, someone who could awaken the land, someone with the tenacity of a tiger. Suddenly a beautiful face appeared in his mind. Laughing blue eyes framed in a halo of auburn hair. He stood up and went back inside and pressed the on button of his computer.

“No National Referendum,” he said aloud. “Maybe we’ll go for the next best thing. This calls for someone with a special means of getting things done.”

He opened his online rolodex. He stared at the number for a full minute before dialing. He’d not spoken to her in several years and now suddenly he wished to hear her voice.

Stephanie Wells had been a House Representative for the state of Wisconsin, while he was in the Senate representing the state of Colorado. They had sat on several special committees and sent several Joint Resolutions to the floor together. When her husband suddenly passed away ten years ago she had turned to him for solace. For each of them it had been an epiphany of sorts. Neither of them believed they would ever love again and yet their feelings for each other grew. They went to dinner, plays and carriage rides around D.C. together. The tabloids had a field day, but the two of them didn’t care. The National Enquirer ran a front page piece asking, “Is the most eligible bachelor in Washington off the market?”

They began holding hands together and even kissed several times when they knew the cameras were watching. One time Stephanie laughingly suggested she felt like a high school girl again. The truth of the matter was they had both fallen very quickly in love, but the business of governing was beginning to wear on her. She’d grown tired of the congressional backbiting and squabbling. After a second term she retired from the House and took a position with the Board of Regents for Harvard University. Elliott had beseeched her to stay in D.C. and even suggested he’d retire and they could move to his Colorado ranch together. Stephanie told him she would have nothing to do with ending the career of one of the most beloved and successful politicians to walk the Halls of Congress. Elliott grew angry at her stubbornness and said he would never speak to her again if she left him. She left, and true to his word he stopped returning her calls and eventually she stopped calling. But Elliott had followed her career as closely as he could from afar. She was still the activist she had always been and she chaired several political committees on campus, educating and nurturing future politicians. She was still in the seat of power and in a position to pull off exactly what Elliott had in mind.

She answered her cell phone and sounded a little irritated. “Hello, this is Stephanie Wells.”

“Hi Stephanie, this is Elliott,” he said trying to sound light hearted.

A sharp intake of breath whispered through the line.

“Elliott, my dear Elliott, it’s wonderful to hear from you. How are you?”

“Fair to middling. And you?”

“I’m fine. I was just about to hop in the shower.”

“I can call back if you wish?”

“No, no it’s okay. Just let me set the phone down for a moment and put my robe on.”

A moment later she was back on the line.

“There, that’s better. Now where were we?”

“You just said you were fine and I was remembering all that auburn hair surrounding those deep blue eyes and those little dimples of yours thinking fine isn’t the word for it. Something more like breathtaking would apply a little better,” Elliott replied with a smile.

Stephanie laughed gaily. “Ever the charmer. Obviously you haven’t seen me in a few years. So how are things on the hill? I know you’ve retired, but I can’t imagine you’re not in touch.”

“Sadly, if anything they are worse than ever and that’s part of the reason for my call. Are you still in touch with all the taxpayer groups? You know, Common Cause, Taxpayers for Common Sense and Citizens against Government Waste?”

“Yes, and several others.”

“Here’s what I was thinking. I’m afraid SB 1190 is going to go down in flames.”

“Are you behind that? I’ve been watching it. What a wonderful bill. I’d sign it in a heartbeat.”

“No, I’m not behind it, but I’d like to see it passed. Maybe you could send an email or something to all those watchdog groups with a proposal. I’d like to suggest those who have RV’s to execute an assault on the Capitol. I’ll pay for banners reading ‘Pass 1190 or else,’ or something along those lines. I’m not really sure how to execute it, but you get the idea. I’d like something in the way of a major show of force by the people of our good land.”

“You don’t need to send any money for banners. We have a lot of Betsy Ross types out there who can make banners. I can send an email announcing the event to all those groups and they can start a letter writing and email campaign to their legislators, but I’ll do you one better, how about AARP? If I’m right, the bill provides for funding of Social Security once the national debt has been extinguished. They are the ones we should be contacting. They’ll hop in their RV’s and head to Washington in a heartbeat.”

“That’s brilliant. Yes, the Baby Boomers, this is right up their alley. They can re-live the protests of the sixties.”

“And they are retired so they have the time to make the journey,” Stephanie added.

“I knew I was calling the right person.”

“Is that the only reason you called?”

“Yes, I knew you were still very involved politically. And you’ve always been an activist where government waste was concerned.”

“Okay Elliott, I’ll buy that, but if you want to you can come visit me.”

“I’d like that. I’d like it very much, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“A lot of work to do, he says. Elliott, I know you’re behind this. It’s funny, when I read the first few news flashes about the bill your face suddenly popped into my mind.”

“I think of you every day,” Elliott admitted as his voice softened, “but there is another group I’d like to involve in support of SB 1190 and that is the young. They are the future, and whether they know it or not they are in deep trouble.”

“Hmm. Okay, he’s changing the topic she said to herself.”