Payback, page 16
Charlie finished taking notes and put his pad on the coffee table. “I’ll do a deep dive into your past, but I’m not sure I’ll find anything. Then again I don’t live on the internet. How active have you been on social media?”
“About average for a member of Congress. I post a lot of stuff about the work I’m doing in the House. Sometimes I do an online poll to see what constituents think about legislation. I’ve got an average number of followers. The people who scream the loudest have the most.”
“Not surprised. How about before you got into politics? We’re you very opinionated, radical, involved in some internet arguments?”
She shook her head. “Nah, I pretty much posted photos of my kids and the cat. Pretty harmless. Tried to stay away from those third rail topics that end friendships. People know I go to church every week, but I don’t beat people over the head with religion. However, I cannot remember every single thing I ever posted.”
“If I find something, I’ve got a friend at each of the major platforms that can make things disappear.”
“I thought those companies hated conservatives?”
“They do, and they try to censor us. However, there are some people who are really offended by their business practices but need a paycheck. Or a bonus if I have them delete something. Which I’ve done a few times. Consider them to be moles, so if I can sorta put them on your payroll they can give me some inside stuff.”
“We can take care of them in cash. Don’t want to get anyone fired.”
“Right, no paper trail. I’ve also got a guy who can pretty much scrub anything off the internet. People might think the net is forever, but there’s a way around that.”
“Interesting. I’ve got carte blanche from the party for any... expenses... you might incur. People like that will prove invaluable.”
“No kidding. Now, we have a serious problem from your past.”
Her face tightened. “Oh my God, what did I do?”
“That photo of you from the Halloween party our senior year in college.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, not that.”
“Though considering you looked gorgeous in the original Star Trek uniform with the hem up to your ass, it might attract votes from the male demographic. Especially the sci-fi fans. I might even have a photo somewhere of you at a convention.”
Johanna laughed. “You would remember stuff like that.”
He tapped the side of his head. “Photographic memory, remember?”
“Well, I’m not apologizing for my crush on Captain Kirk or my love of the original series. William Shatner was hot back in the day. I think that’s where I get my take-no-prisoners attitude. Fire phasers and ask questions later. Not like Picard who talked the aliens to death. If it helps, I’ll be happy to give the Vulcan salute at a rally.”
“Hey, it couldn’t hurt and you’d lock up the fanboy vote. Anyway, there is one actual thing not online that I would worry about. The guy you dated senior year in high school a few times.” He looked down for a moment. “The, uh, one who ended up in jail.”
Her smile faded. “Oh, hell, I’d forgotten about him. Every woman makes bad choices in men at some point, but that was my worst. I haven’t checked on him in years. Is he still in prison?”
Charlie shrugged. “No clue. I remember him getting a thirty-year sentence right after we got out of college, so unless some liberal parole board kicked him loose, he’s probably behind bars. Should be easy enough to find out. Either way, he could trade information about you for a pardon or reduced sentence. So that’s something to keep an eye on.”
She shook her head. “Damn. Surely something I did in high school couldn’t come back to bite me.”
“These days, if you used the wrong color crayon in kindergarten they’d brand you as a racist. Anyway, let me check on him and see what I can find.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lucy smiled as she saw the number pop up on her phone. She grabbed a pen and pad as she answered the call. “So, how’s my favorite ghostwriter?”
“Yeah, right. I’m more ghost than writer. I love the resume you created for me. She swallowed the hook when it came to my credentials. Thankfully all the real authors are dead. But they can still vote, right?”
“Very funny. Hey, you might not be an actual writer but you’re fantastic at interviews. And I’ve never seen a man gain the trust of women like you do. I was ready to take you home and have my way with you the first time we met, and you’re not even my type.”
“That offers still stands if you ever want to try something different than your usual dates.”
“I’ll take it under advisement. So, what did you get in your first session?”
“Some obvious stuff and a few things that surprised even me. She’s really an open book. I can tell she’s carrying a lot of guilt and wants to get everything off her chest. But there is one thing that will give your devious mind something to play with right now.”
“What’s that?”
“It will require that special geek friend you have to clone a phone. And you’ll need someone who can actually write some clever stuff.” He explained what he had in mind.
“Oooh, I really like that. And apparently I’m not the only devious one.”
“Yeah, but you’re the queen. We’re just your royal subjects. I’ll drop everything off in an hour.”
“Look forward to it.” She ended the call and licked her lips.
It was time to contact David Chen.
NEW PRESS SECRETARY Graham Dell could barely contain his excitement as he prepared for his first White House press briefing which would be televised on all the networks live in prime time. The liberal media knew there was a ton of damage control needed, so they blew out regular programming. It was his big chance to make himself a household name and incredibly valuable to the party.
While there were others qualified for the job, Dell had been Cassie Yates’ right-hand man and enjoyed a great relationship with the media.
Thankfully, she was forced to clean out her office so quickly she left her magic question-planting phone behind.
He’d already texted the softball questions for the day to the clueless reporters on the payroll who would read them verbatim to ensure his maiden voyage would be a successful one. The opening questions would go to young reporters who had never paid their dues, just pretty faces. Two had made their names as bikini models and internet “influencers” while another was the devastatingly handsome son of a Hollywood star, a true blonde-haired blue-eyed Ken Doll. Dell was pretty sure none had ever cracked a book or even read a newspaper.
This is going to be easy. The people in the press corps are clueless puppets just like the President, repeating exactly what I give them.
He had rehearsed his opening remarks several times; covering for the President with some new stuff to take the focus off the recent disaster, dodging the Vice President nominee issue, and taking yet another shot at his old boss. Cassie was persona non grata with the party, and Dell wanted to make sure the powers that be knew he was a team player.
He checked out his brand new tailored gray suit in a mirror which unfortunately failed to hide the two hundred and ten pounds on his five-foot-five frame, straightened his royal blue tie, and headed for the briefing room. He smiled with head held high as he reached the podium and nodded at the media.
“Good evening. I’ve got a few things to go over and then I’ll take some questions. The President is today engaged with discussions over the bill to extend unemployment benefits in every state to two years. He feels that this will provide for the health and welfare of anyone who is out of work, while giving those who are unemployed enough time to find a new job. We will also be releasing a new list of offensive trigger words that will be banned in all government offices and correspondence, along with the required pronouns. The administration has zero tolerance for any gender-related violation. And we’ve scheduled a conference with the Speaker of the House and Senate Majority leader to explore closing Guantanamo permanently and relocating all those prisoners to facilities in Texas and Florida.”
Dell took on a somber look to deliver the next message. “I know many of you, along with the White House staff are concerned for former Press Secretary Cassie Yates. She continues to work toward recovery and our hopes and prayers are with her. While her mental breakdown was something we hated to see, we support her efforts to get well and wish her the best in the future. I can personally tell you she is always in my thoughts. Okay, I’ll take some questions.” He looked at his list of reporters who had received the planted questions and pointed at the stunning blonde woman in the front row. “Yes, Janie...”
“Thank you, Graham, and congratulations on the new position.”
“I appreciate that. Just wish I hadn’t gotten it this way.”
The reporter looked at her phone. “Since the administration is proposing a one dollar per gallon tax increase on gasoline and a mileage tax that will require every car in America to be fitted with an odometer monitor... do you think this has any chance of getting through Congress?”
Dell furrowed his brow. Where the hell did that come from? “I, uh, think you’ve been misinformed. There’s been no discussion about a gas or mileage tax. Or any kind of monitor in American cars.” He shot the reporter a nasty look, then turned to another reporter who was in his pocket. “Sanford...”
“Thank you, Graham.”
Jeez, put him and Janie together and you’ve got a real-life Ken and Barbie.
The square-jawed reporter who was the spitting image of his movie star dad read from his phone. “Many are saying the President’s plan to completely end the free school lunch program this month through executive order will leave millions of American children starving. Is there some other social safety net being discussed to replace it and keep poor kids from going hungry?”
What the hell? Graham Dell instantly felt his armpits grow damp while beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “I’m not sure where you got that information, but there are no plans to eliminate the free school lunch program.” He widened his eyes as he looked at the reporter, as if to say, why aren’t you asking the question I gave you? “The, uh, school lunch program has been a lifeline to many of the underprivileged for years and is not going away.” He looked out at the crowd and pointed at the reporter with whom he had the best relationship... and one with whom he wanted a sexual one. “Andrea, go ahead...”
“Thank you.” The drop-dead gorgeous brunette in the short skirt who was practically spilling out of her blouse batted her eyes at him, then pulled out her phone and smiled. “We were told before the last President’s address that Barb Harrison was the nominee to be the next Vice President. But after Ed Hester was announced, several White House sources told me that the word around the building was, and forgive my offensive language, that no one wanted a tranny in the Oval Office. How do you respond?”
Droplets of sweat began to run down his face and one actually dripped on his notes. One drop ran down his nose and hung off the tip. He snapped at the reporter. “That’s completely untrue and I have no idea where this is coming from. There’s no way anyone would refer to the Senator with that term, and I find your question offensive. I shouldn’t even dignify that with a response.”
I need to get the hell out of here, and fast.
He yanked his cell phone from his pocket and pretended to receive a text. “Sorry, I have to cut this short, I’m needed right away in the Oval Office. Thank you all for coming.” He turned and beat a hasty retreat.
DELL STORMED INTO THE White House Press Corps office and quickly scanned the room for any of the reporters who had asked questions. He found the two women chatting near the coffee pot. “What the hell were you two thinking with those questions? You made me look like an idiot and now we have the general public freaking out! And you’ve started rumors on national television that we’re thinking about raising taxes on gasoline and killing the school lunch program—”
“Jeez, take a chill pill, Graham,” said the blonde, stirring some sugar into her coffee. “Or switch to decaf.”
The brunette smiled. “Yeah, why the hell are you mad at us?”
Dell’s jaw tightened. “Because you not only didn’t ask the questions I texted you, but you came up with some absolute bullshit!”
“Like hell!” said the blonde. “We asked the questions you sent us. Cassie always told us to read the questions verbatim and that’s what we always do.”
The brunette whipped out her cell phone, tapped it a few times and handed it to him. “Here. You sent it, we asked it. What’s your problem?”
Dell snatched the phone and looked at the text.
It wasn’t the question he’d sent, but it was from the correct phone number. “What the hell? This didn’t come from me.”
The woman pointed at the phone. “That’s the secret phone number with the phony name Cassie always used. How are we supposed to know that wasn’t the question you wanted us to ask?”
The blonde held up her phone so he could read it. “Yeah, that’s what you sent me and it’s from your number as well. So don’t blame us if you screwed up. We just do as we’re told.”
Dell’s jaw slowly dropped as he looked at both phones. Sure enough, the second phone proved their point. He grabbed one of the phones and started scrolling through texts. “How... what about any other texts you got from me today? The questions about immigration and child credits.”
Both women shrugged. “Beats me. What you see is all I got,” said one.
“Same here,” said the other.
“And you two didn’t think the questions you asked were ridiculous?”
The blonde put her hands on her hips and stuck out one foot like a pissed off parent. “Hey, my news director told me to ask the questions you give me and I get my scripts from the producer. I’ve never written a single word in this job because I can’t write worth a shit. I just read what I’m given. I have no idea if the question is stupid or not. I don’t even like politics. All you people do is screw one another anyway. I’ve never worked with such mean, spiteful people. Everyone who works in this building is a backstabber and a flaming asshole.”
Dell’s jugular stuck out as his face tightened. “A one-dollar gasoline tax and mileage monitors on every car in America? Seriously? You couldn’t figure out that didn’t make sense? Calling Senator Harrison a tranny?”
The brunette laughed. “Hell, that’s what the some of the other reporters call her when they’re off the air. And as for raising taxes, that’s all you Democrats do anyway. Why would anyone be surprised?” The tall woman moved close, looking down as she towered over him. “Listen, you little shrimp. Everything that happened today was not our fault. So maybe you should get your fat ass back to your office and figure out what happened. And considering the size of your butt, any cover your ass memo better be two pages.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WHITE HOUSE DESPERATE TO WALK BACK SURPRISING REVELATIONS FROM PRESS BRIEFING
Newly appointed White House Press Secretary Graham Dell along with several network anchors are dealing with a crisis as they try to change the narrative after a press briefing that could only be described as shocking.
Dell, who had served as a Deputy under Cassie Yates, was visibly stressed during a prime-time press briefing as he fielded questions from network reporters about the Damien administration’s plans to raise the gasoline tax by one dollar a gallon, install odometer monitors in every American car to tax people by the mile, and end the free school lunch program through executive order. After a question regarding an offensive term for onetime presumed Vice Presidential nominee Barb Harrison, Dell took a sharp tone with the reporter and quickly ended the briefing, claiming he was needed in the Oval Office.
Naturally, social media blew up about the prospect of a huge new tax increase and the end of a program to feed the poor. In addition, the LGBTQ community blasted the Damien administration regarding the alleged term used to describe the transgender Senator.
Republicans wasted no time firing back, as RNC Chairman Frank Whitmore slammed the Democrats for even considering such outrageous tax increases. “I know the people obsessed with climate change would love to get every single car off the road, but a gasoline tax of that amount is over the top, even for the Democrats. A monitor on every car to determine how much we drive? And don’t even get me started on canceling the school lunch program. The administration has lost its collective mind, especially since they apparently have no conscience about letting millions of American children starve.”
The White House quickly issued a statement, saying that all the reporters who had asked the questions at the briefing had simply been misinformed, and that none of the allegations were true. The major networks, meanwhile, have remained silent, though the bios of the reporters in question have all been removed from their websites, and none have returned our calls. Using their usual “bias by omission” tactic, the newscasts that followed the briefing had no mention at all that the briefing had even occurred.
But, true or not, the word had gotten out and people with virtual torches and pitchforks swarmed the internet, especially about the school lunch program. People in subsidized housing neighborhoods took to the streets to protest. “The Democrats only show up when they want our vote, and now they’re throwing us aside like garbage,” said one single mother who holds two minimum wage jobs to support three children. “My kids desperately need a free lunch at school. President Damien can go to hell.”
Republican firebrand Johanna Bishop held nothing back as she criticized the Damien administration. “It’s pretty clear the Democrats are trying to sneak a bunch of taxes by Americans. And the new press secretary should be ashamed of himself for playing dumb as he obviously knew the President’s decisions would be very unpopular. There’s no way Republicans will support a tax increase of any kind, much less a huge one on gasoline. Adding an extra twenty or thirty bucks to a fill-up would place a terrible burden on the country, especially on working people who have to commute. As for the Democrats desire to monitor how much we drive to tax us even more, I suggest any legislation they propose simply be called the Big Brother Amendment. And I cannot even comprehend why they considered taking food out of the mouths of children. They probably couldn’t figure out a way to tax a free lunch.”
