John Barnes - Directive 51

“Don’t let your toast get cold, and let’s talk through this thing one more time.”

“That’s two good ideas. Got any more?”

“Well, President Pendano… when I talked to him on the phone on Sunday, because I was worried they’d move him with the rioting going on—he sounded much better than he did when I visited on Friday and on Saturday. I think he’s off the barbiturates and through the withdrawal, but I couldn’t chance asking when there might be some National Unity Goon listening in. So suppose he’s better. What if he were to transmit a letter to Congress certifying that he’s ready to resume his duties?”

“Could he do that? I mean—I know, Amendment Twenty-five, Section Three, he can always send the letter, but could he be president?”

“That’s not what I have in mind, Cameron. No, I don’t think Roger Pendano could be president again. I don’t think he’s even going to live very long, or if he does, it will be as a wreck in a nursing home. If he were going to rise to the need, he’d’ve done it the first night. But he might be able, for a very short time, to be a figurehead. And I think he’ll do that if we ask him. If we got Kowalski on it for the House and whoever it’s going to be for the Senate, and Roger Pendano were to appoint a Vice President and then resign—”

“I see what you’re saying, it scares me, and I don’t like it.”

Weisbrod pressed on. “Twenty-fifth Amendment, Section 3, he resumes his duties if he sends a letter that says he’s fit and a majority of the Cabinet agrees. No agreement from the VP required. If we all vote that he’s fit, and the Senate and House confirm as soon as Shaunsen protests, then Roger is the President again. Between DRET and the Cabinet, we could take care of everything, just have him read announcements and maybe wave from stands. It’ll be easier to hide than Roosevelt’s wheelchair or Wilson’s stroke were. And if he appoints a successor right away, and the House and Senate confirm immediately, we won’t have to keep the act going for much time at all.”

Cameron nodded. “Who did you have in mind for the successor?”

Weisbrod smiled. “Frankly, I was thinking you.”

“God no. I have zero charisma and I’m unknown outside policy circles and it would look like a coup. Same reason we can’t use any generals. But I do have a thought, which I’m swiping from all the stuff I’ve been reviewing about irregular successions and possible irregular successions in the past.”

“There’s a precedent for this?”

“There’s definitely a precedent, even if it’s 108 years old. Back in 1916, just before he was re-elected, Woodrow Wilson thought the country might reject him, and elect Charles Evans Hughes. The main issue of the campaign was Wilson’s policies about the war going on in Europe. If Wilson lost, especially back in those days when a new president was sworn in on March 4th, it would have been five months till the new policies came in, at a time when there were decisions to make every day. Wilson thought that was way too long for the country to stay with a foreign policy it had rejected, so he planned that if Hughes won, Wilson would appoint him Secretary of State, the Senate would confirm, and then Wilson and Vice President Marshall would resign, making Hughes the President under the 1886 Succession Act, the rules at the time.

“So I suggest that Roger Pendano pick Senator Will Norcross as his Vice President. The country voted for Norcross, so he has immediate legitimacy. And we don’t have to go through a whole additional succession on January 20; we can put Norcross in, in a perfectly Constitutional, regular way.”

“And Norcross at least grasps that the situation is desperate, and he’ll act rather than weasel around it,” Weisbrod said. “I see the logic. But Will Norcross still scares me. Do you think he understands that if we do this for him, he owes us a more middle-of-the-road, national-unity sort of administration than he campaigned for?”

“I think that you and the Cabinet should put that question to him directly, in your first meeting with him after President Pendano reassumes office.” Cameron was nodding now, liking the thought more as he considered it. “ Yes , extract promises from Norcross that he’s not going to treat this as a mandate for the Christian Right—by all means. Insist that he say it in public, not just to you. Please. Because we need the country to pull together. Now—you’re the guy to talk to Pendano, and you know it—do you think he’ll be okay with it?”

Graham sat still for a long, long moment. “I think it’s what Roger would prefer, if he can be coaxed into it. But we’ve both got to be clear about what the deal is. So, here’s what I think we’re agreeing to: Pendano can never function again as President—but he has the power to eliminate Acting President Shaunsen, and the country needs that. If Will Norcross commits to being a national-unity president for all the country, and leave his religious views to his re-election campaign if he has one, then he’s the best man for the job. Therefore, we are doing this because the country needs a functioning, full-time, national-unity president, right now. Have I forgotten anything?”

“Not a thing,” Cameron said. “Ditto, as some of my colleagues on the right used to say.” He extended a hand and the two men shook. “And I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Ditto,” Graham said. “All right, well, nothing will be improved by delay. I’m going to grab Heather O’Grainne and head over to the White House.”

“Excellent. I don’t think we can count on Shaunsen to give up without a fight, when push comes to shove, and I mean that pretty literally. Bringing a big man, especially military or security, into the White House would look suspicious; Heather’s a good, inoffensive alternative.”

“You know, that may be the first time she’s ever been called that .”

“All right,” Chris said, opening the morning meeting, “what do we have for prospects for tomorrow’s paper? What’s everyone working on?”

“Got a roundup,” Hayley said. “Hunger riots all up and down the East Coast.”

George Parwin looked up, and added, “Bad news in all the major cities—roundup or bunch of shorties, no details on any of them. According to a ham in New Hampshire, thousands of people died of exposure after walking out of the Boston metro area looking for food, when a freezing rainstorm caught them. Confirmed for sure, two days ago half of Chicago burned because there was no way to put it out—must’ve gone not long after St. Paul, actually. My DoD-intel source let me look at aerial photos of street barricades and armed men splitting the black and white neighborhoods in St. Louis.”

Brown said, “Food story—satellite pictures show that early blizzard might’ve killed a quarter of the cattle in Montana.”

“Okay,” Chris said. “And of course, metro and local, Shaunsen is pledging good government jobs for everybody, and plans to sue to get results thrown out in some states where he lost, because of the ‘unfair advantage’ Norcross—”

“Hey!” The shout was from Don Parmenter, up in the cupola, where they tried to maintain a watch with binoculars. “Troops moving out of Fort McNair and Fort Myer.”

“Where are they going?”

“This way. Too soon to tell otherwise, but they’re definitely not heading out of town.”

“Right,” Chris said. “Okay, everyone, the story ideas sound fine; George, write them up as separate shorties, we can always stick them all back together if we need the space for anything else. Brown, yeah, go with that, on the Montana story. And I better run, because odds are those troops mean something’s going on.” He shouted. “Hey, Don, want to come and see if we can get caught in a battle?”