The Blackfire Protocol by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 44

Morning arrived and found the two fully clothed and sleeping under the covers. The remains of their dinner lay scattered about the bed and floor. Waking from a deep slumber, Betsy sat up and looked at Frank, who still lay sleeping; she looked at the TV. It was still on and broadcasting the morning news. Studying the broadcast, she quickly turned and shook him into wakefulness.

“Frank,” she said. “Wake up. You need to see this.” Rolling over, Frank groaned as he sat up with his muscles and joints aching.

“Oh fuck,” he said. “What is it?”

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Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he focused on the TV, still conveying the broadcast that would prove critical to his campaign.

“Frank,” Betsy answered. “Your election opponent -- the fat guy. What’s his name? He had a heart attack.” Hearing the words ‘heart attack’ rapidly led him into complete wakefulness as his concentration was centered on every word of the news broadcast. “Do you think he’ll pull out of the race?” he said. Also hanging on every word, Betsy gave him a sudden ‘shush’ as she began assessing what this could mean for his campaign. Thus far, his rival was in critical condition, and as the media briefly questioned his wife, it became clear that he would not be continuing his run for the senate seat. As tragic as it was it was good news for Frank and Betsy. Having heard enough of the broadcast, she turned to Frank and threw her arms around him. “Do you know what this means?” she asked. “With the election only a few months away, it’s not likely that anyone else will run. You’re running unopposed. You’re practically a senator now!” Getting off the bed, she put her shoes on and began cleaning up what was left of their late dinner. But her attention was suddenly drawn to Frank, who sat silently on the bed. His lust for power had been gaining strength for the few months, but he still felt some small concern for his former rival. “Frank,” Betsy said. “What is it?” Sitting down next to him, she put an arm around his shoulder.

“This is good news,” she continued. “You’re a shoo-in now.”

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With a hint of conscience, he brought up an issue he felt was important.

“What if the guy dies?”

Betsy understood his concern. It was certainly human, but in her mind there were more important things at stake.

“Frank,” she said. “Look, people die all the time. I really don’t think you need to worry, and if he does, we’ll send some flowers, and you’ll have the chance to say something sympathetic on the air.” Frank gave her words a few moments of thought. “Maybe we should do that anyway. You know, well wishes for my former opponent.” He was beginning to understand how politics works, as Betsy complimented him on what she thought of as forward-thinking.

“That’s a great idea,” she said. “And you don’t have to mean a word of it, as long as it looks like you do.” They looked at each other and smiled, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. But politics doesn’t take a day off, and there was work to do, and Frank had to make a statement as soon as possible. Any delay might make any public comment seem less than genuine.

Collecting the leftovers from their previous dinner, Betsy disposed of them in a trash barrel just outside the door of their room and, getting onto her car, drove back into the city. Once they arrived at her apartment, she called their speechwriter for an emergency meeting at campaign headquarters. He was there by the time they arrived. Noam was a graduate of SUNY Albany in upstate New York with a Bachelor’s degree in political science and a

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Master’s degree in creative writing. He was hired by the two men who hired everyone else, including Betsy. Having already seen the broadcast, he waited in his car for Frank and Betsy to arrive as he wrote a few notes, hoping to piece together a sincere speech that he could offer to the voting public. Soon, the doors were unlocked, and the three of them deliberated as they waited for their public relations manager. On her phone again, Betsy was forced to wake their campaign manager, who was already up having seen the news broadcast as well and was already on his way as well.

Within thirty minutes, they sat in Frank’s office, deliberating on the approach they would use to make the best impact on the public as possible. But what must be accomplished was that the public must believe that he was being sincere and concerned for the welfare of his former rival without going over the top. Twenty minutes later, Frank’s speech was a polished gem of political sincerity, and in the morning it would be recorded and aired to the people of the country. Formality was an issue as well. Should he wear a tie or take on the look of someone who had been up all night? Perhaps a loose tie was the way to go, and with this appearance, identify with the working class. At the last minute, it was decided a more professional look was in order, so after the speech was written, everyone returned home for a brief period of sleep and clean change of clothes. The group arrived in the morning, and unpacking her video camera, Betsy chose to shoot the speech outdoors so as to make a statement that he was the man to vote for. With the help of his image

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consultant, Frank dressed in his best suit and sported a red tie. Standing outside near 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, he took a position within view of the White House and, with Betsy’s video camera rolling, gave a brief statement on his former rival. He expressed his concern for his health with hopes that he might one day reenter the realm of politics and stand together to fight for the good of the country and its people.

The speech was less than five minutes long, but shortly after he finished, CNN had aired their own statement. Their anchor complimented Frank on his speech as being sound-minded and human in his concern for someone who was no longer running for office. Other news outlets soon followed in their response with similar statements, and he was soon seen as the man who would soon become the humanitarian senator. Of course, his speechwriter received a hefty raise and the promise of continued work as Frank’s senatorial speechwriter. Noam was overwhelmingly grateful.