Stuart Woods: Mounting Fears

Will walked into the Oval Office to find Tim Coleman, Kitty Conroy, his campaign manager Sam Meriwether, his political consultant Tom Black, and the majority leader of the House and the minority leader of the Senate waiting for him. They all rose as he entered.

“Mr. President,” Tim said, “is there something going on that we should know about?”

“You’ll be briefed in a few minutes,” Will said. “Now, have a seat and tell me whose names are on your list.”

Tim began to read. “Senator Charles Watts of Idaho.”

Will shook his head. “No-Idaho has a Republican governor, and we can’t afford to give up the Senate seat.”

“Congressman Tad Giddens of Nebraska.”

“A good man, but green and a little impulsive. I need a grayer head.”

“Governor Martin Stanton of California.”

Will said nothing for a moment. “Good one. Who else?”

“Governor Bobby Breen of Texas.”

“Two southerners on the ticket isn’t good.”

“Governor Eleanor Thomas of Oregon.”

“A woman on the ticket would be a good thing, I think, but only if we believe she could credibly run for president after four years. What do you all think?”

Kitty Conroy spoke up. “She has a husband who runs his own large manufacturing business, and he isn’t likely to come to Washington with her, which would be a problem for both of them. She has two teenaged children, too, and the girl could be a problem for us. She was arrested on a juvenile drug charge last year. She seems to be improving, but…”

“Who else?”

“Governor Elliot Sparks of Colorado.”

“Twice divorced, and a reputation as a womanizer,” Will said. “He’d be a time bomb. Anyone else?”

“That’s all so far,” Tim said.

“Marty Stanton is an appealing guy,” Will said, “and he’s finishing his second term as governor. He has an attractive family, grown children, and I think he’d be a serious candidate for president, if I weren’t running, and he has a Mexican mother.”

“I like him for the job,” Sam said.

“So do I,” Kitty chipped in.

The others made positive noises.

“Any women other than Betty in his life?”

Tom Black spoke up. “There were rumors about a woman in Los Angeles, before he was governor, but they both denied everything, and nobody had any real evidence. If there’s been anybody since, Stanton has been very, very careful.”

Will walked to his desk and picked up the phone. “Please find Governor Martin Stanton of California,” he said into the phone, then hung up and looked around. “Last chance to bring up someone else,” he said.

Nobody spoke. The phone rang, and Will picked it up.

“Hello? How are you, Marty?… I’m glad to hear it. Marty, I’m with Sam Meriwether, Tim Coleman, Kitty Conroy, Tom Black, Congressman Dan Tweed, and Senator Mike Hubbard. I’d like to put you on speaker so everyone can hear you. Here we go.” Will pressed the button. “Can you hear me, Marty?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Marty, George Kiel has entered Walter Reed for prostate cancer surgery. The prognosis is unclear, and he’s opted out of the race. All of us here think you’d make a great vice president, and a fine candidate for president in four years, and I’d be deeply honored if you’d accept George’s place on the ticket.”

Silence.

“You there, Marty?”

“Yes, but I’m stunned.”

“I understand. Would you like to call me back?”

“May I put you on hold for a moment, Mr. President?”

“Certainly.”

There was a click on the line.

“He’s probably talking with Betty,” Will said.

“It’s going to be a short conversation,” said Kitty.

Stanton came back on the line. “Mr. President?”

“I’m here, Marty. We all are.”

“I’m very grateful for the opportunity, and I am delighted to accept.”

“That’s wonderful, Marty. Where are you now?”

“On my airplane, about two hours out of New York.”

“Can we meet at the Waldorf Towers”-Will glanced at his watch-“at six o’clock?”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

“And you’d better start drafting an acceptance speech. See you at six.” Will hung up. “Well,” he said, “that was easy. Tim, you’d better call the FBI and get them started on the background check. Tell them I want at least a preliminary report fast.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim started to leave but ran into Lance Cabot, who was on his way in.

“Stay, Tim,” Will said. “Lance, anything new?”

“We’ve got the second wave of the attack on satellite now,” Lance said. “They’re going to be dug in by the time the Pakistani army arrives.”

“Lance, will you brief everybody here on the situation, please?” Will asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Ten minutes later, Lance had finished, leaving his audience nearly speechless.

“How do you want to handle the announcement?” Kitty asked.

“Write it, but keep it close. I’d like to wait until after the Pakistani army has finished its raid, unless we’re forced to go sooner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who are we going to get to nominate Marty Stanton tonight?” Will asked.

“The speaker of the House is running the convention, and he’s from California,” Tim said.

Will nodded and picked up the phone. “Get me the speaker of the House,” he said. “I believe he’s at the Waldorf Towers.” He waited the ten seconds it took for the White House operator to find the man.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“Tank, George Kiel is in surgery and won’t be running. I’ve asked Marty Stanton to replace him.”

The speaker gave out a low whistle. “I’m sorry about George, but Marty is wonderful news.”

“I agree, and I don’t want you running for governor; I need you where you are.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d like you to place his name in nomination before my speech and get a vote by acclamation from the convention.”

“I’d be delighted.”

“My speech is televised at nine, so get it done by seven-thirty, then give Marty a few minutes for an acceptance speech. He can introduce me.”

“Sounds good, Mr. President.”

“I’m meeting with Marty at six at the Towers, and if you’re available, I’d like you to be there.”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

“See you then, and keep all this under your hat until tonight.” Will hung up and looked at the group. “Any loose ends?”

“Mr. President,” Lance Cabot said, “I think you might describe Pakistan as a loose end.”

“I can’t do any more about that now. Is the helicopter ready, Tim? Everybody’s luggage aboard?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Then let’s go to New York.”

Will didn’t bother with Air Force One; the helicopter would get him to New York just as fast, and it would land on top of the old Pan Am building, very near the Waldorf.

Halfway to New York, the copilot’s voice came over the intercom system to Will’s headset. “Phone call for you, Mr. President. The speaker of the House, Mr. Wainwright.”

Will picked up the phone. “Tank?”

“Mr. President, I’m getting a lot of press questions about some sort of trouble in Pakistan.”

“If you don’t hear from the Joint Chiefs, I’ll tell you about that at our six-o’clock meeting,” Will said.

“Is anybody making an announcement about George?”

“I assume his press secretary will handle that.”

“I’ve had a couple of calls about that, too, from the press.”

“Refer them to the office of the vice president,” Will said. “Anything else?”

“Are you going to mention this Pakistan thing in your speech?”