The Return of Elliott Eastman (8 page)

The President spoke up. “I like it. We’ll send the bill to the House once the wording has been finalized, but at the same time start the wheels rolling. I’ll have my staff prepare a reasonable and wide reaching array of defense budget cuts, including a serious cut in the overseas bases and our funding for Egypt, Pakistan and the lot of them. I trust I can have the backing of those present?”

A stinging silence greeted his request and Elliott felt his ire getting the better of him.

“You think the status quo is going to get us anything but the same trash we’ve put out for the last twenty years?” he asked. “We need to take bold steps. Our country and particularly our government is slowly becoming the laughing stock of the world. All we are is empty rhetoric and lawgivers controlled by corporate money. We supported Mubarek in Egypt with 1.8 billion dollars a year and then applauded the Arab spring when he was over thrown. We have high school students who can barely read, an apathetic electorate and a military bent on supporting our corporate interests overseas. The list of our immoral atrocities worldwide goes back further than I care to remember. Anyone wish to hear the tale about Torres and United Fruit in Panama? C’mon people. As I said a moment ago, the time is now. Should we idly sit by and watch the government print money until we’re in the poor house, paying interest to other countries and supporting their quality of life? Let’s get our house in order. Let’s get …” A rush of dizziness overwhelmed the senator. He felt himself falling. For a moment he gripped the armrest of his chair, but then he was falling again. He heard the crash of the chair on the floor and felt a dull thump. A cacophony of voices erupted in the tight confines of the Situation Room and then slowly, darkness descended and all was quiet.

Chapter Seventeen

Slowly Elliott became vaguely aware of his surroundings. A faint whirring sound came from not far away and a rhythmic beeping seemed to be closer yet. He opened his eyes to find white curtains hung around his bed and he could hear voices speaking in low tones. He rolled over and a sharp stab of pain coursed through his right side. He groaned and instantly the screens were pulled aside. His personal physician, Dr. Paul Yates stood framed in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“How do you feel, Elliott?” he asked, the genuine concern clear in his tone of voice.

“Okay, I guess. Rather tired. What time is it?”

“It’s two a.m. on October third.”

“October third? Are you telling me I’ve been out for two days? I’ve got things to do,” Elliott said and made as if to get out of bed.

“Hold on there Tiger,” Dr. Yates insisted while gently placing a hand on Elliott’s chest and pushing him back against the pillows.

“I’ve got your phone and have been speaking to various parties. The list of visitors is quite impressive and growing. I’ve taken extensive notes and will review them with you shortly, but first I must review what the recent tests reveal.”

“Keep it short and sweet,” Elliott growled.

“A few questions first. Have you fainted or experienced light headedness before?”

Elliott shook his head.

“Shortness of breath or fatigue?”

“No shortness of breath, but I’ve been mighty tired recently,” Elliott replied.

“I think it’s an adverse response to the medication we’ve prescribed. I’ll review the dosage with the pharmacists. You’ll need to monitor it carefully. If you find yourself growing faint take a seat, and if you are driving pull over immediately,” the Doctor carefully explained.

“Got it.”

“Now for the update on your condition, which I’m afraid is not good. The cancer has spread to the lymph nodes under your arms. Unusually aggressive cancers often use the lymph systems to travel throughout the body. The operation is simple; we remove the nodes. It takes about an hour and a half for the operation and another hour of stiff coffee for the anesthesia to wear off. We’ll put you on some heavy pain medication and you’ll be out of here in the morning.”

“Tell the doctors to start sharpening their scalpels. I’m out of here by nine a.m.”

“Always the ever gracious patient,” Dr. Yates replied. “Are you sure you have the time to die Elliott?”

The Master Sergeant stared for a moment at his long time friend.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Go ahead Paul.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine most of the time. I get a sharp pain in my side occasionally and a dizzy spell from time to time.”

“Appetite?”

“It’s normal. Come to think of it I am kind of hungry.”

“That’s good. I’ll see what the hospital staff can rustle up in the way of food in a moment.”

“How is this going to come down, Paul?” Elliott asked in a soft voice as if comprehending for the first time that his life was currently being counted in months, but that soon it would be weeks, days and then hours.

Dr. Yates looked at his friend of thirty years and struggled mightily to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. “You’ll get weak. Jaundice will set in. The pain in your side will become constant. You may have more dizzy spells, trouble standing and the pain will become quite acute. You’ll probably begin to experience incontinence. We will give you medication to reduce the pain. Eventually you will not be able to stand or sit. Your organs will begin to shut down and that’s when we normally begin the morphine treatments. When that starts, you’re only a few hours or days away from saying goodbye.”

With that final sentence the doctors lips began to tremble and he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

Doctor Yates turned away and Elliott could see his shoulders shaking.

“How much time?” Elliott asked.

“I don’t know. The movement to your nodes is not a good sign, but hopefully we caught it in time and the removal of them will slow the spread. And chemo would help.”

“Well, there’s a lot yet to do, so let’s contact the doctors and get these nodes removed,” Elliott said.

“First let me read my notes to you,” Paul responded, quickly collecting himself.

“Eddie Kelley and James Lally are on their way into town. They said they were your body guards.”

Elliott laughed at the comment. “How did they know I was here?”

“It’s been all over the news. Don’t forget you’re a very well-known person.”

“I didn’t think I was national news.”

“Well obviously you are. Kelley and Lally? I think I remember them from Iraq,” Paul said.

“They are pretty unforgettable,” Elliott replied.

“General Gates said the President is putting the finishing touches to his State of the Union speech and including everything you discussed. He said, and this is a quote, ‘you better put on your boxing gloves, because the gauntlet is going to hit the table and Congress is going to howl.’

“The President’s secretary has called twice asking about your condition. Representative Bruce Bennet called to say he’s talked to the President at length and he’s signing on to sponsor the ‘War on the Deficit’ bill.”

“Hot damn,” Elliott almost exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, “now were talking. Bruce is a little green yet, but a tiger for detail and he’s a salt of the earth human being if there ever was one. We’ll get this bill to the floor yet.”

“Okay, that’s about it. You get some rest and I’ll talk to the doctors. Let’s shoot for about six a.m. for the operation.”

“Sounds good.”

Chapter Eighteen

Elliott came out from under the anesthesia slowly. A nurse came in and checked his pulse. Dr. Yates came in and said, “Well everything went off without a hitch. You are no longer the owner of four lymph nodes.”

“Great,” Elliott moaned. “How soon does the anesthesia wear off? I feel sick.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Good. General Bob Gates came by to see you. We wound up having a long conversation. Apparently the President wants the two of you to be on stage when he delivers his State of the Union speech two weeks from now. You’ve been a busy fellow, haven’t you? The ‘War on the Deficit’ sounds like a bad B-movie, but he did have some words of wisdom. He said, ‘do what you need to do to regain your health’. He’ll keep you informed up until the State of the Union. I would suggest you listen to him. We could get three chemo treatments in and still give you four days of recuperation before your stage appearance.”

“You’re not getting me on some damn death treatment. I feel like all I do these days is lie around in bed.”

“Rest is very good for you. It might add a month to your life; a month that sounds like it might be a very important one.”

Elliott sighed. “What are we talking about?”

Dr. Yates explained and Elliott reluctantly agreed. It was a grueling two weeks with Elliott getting double the normal dose of radiation. He was usually down for a day and a half after that, but then began eating and swimming to rebuild his strength as quickly as possible. The attending doctors were awed and marveled at his stamina. He began drinking Starbucks Double shots and taking a brisk walk twice a day. By the time of the State of the Union he was feeling as fit as he did ten years ago.

He slipped into a newly purchased tuxedo, took the President’s limo from the hospital to the Halls of Congress and was quickly whisked backstage. There he met General Robert Gates, Richard Henghold of the Office of Management and Budget, Secretary of Defense Bruce Holland, and Samuel Goldman, the Chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission. Lastly there was Bruce Bennett of the House of Representatives, a young freshman Democrat from Colorado, who enthusiastically wished to introduce the bill to the House. Of course the President agreed to throw his support behind one of Bennett’s pet projects; eliminating lobbyist access to government leaders and eliminating earmarks. Elliott remembered Bennett. The young man had contacted Elliott for advice two years before when he was contemplating a run for the House. He’d asked if they could have lunch together and Elliott had agreed. Elliott was impressed with him. He was convinced his heart was in the right place when it came to correcting the ills that beset America.

This was a most extraordinary gathering, and the President’s plans for them were even more outlandish. The standard format for decades had been to have the Speaker of the House and Senate to be seated, along with the Vice President, behind the President at the podium. Instead, President Paul White had the seats removed, requested that the speakers stand down, and made room for these august collaborators of his to stand shoulder to shoulder behind him.

He touched on everything they had discussed; the transaction fee, the cut backs on military bases and spending, farm and oil subsidies, foreign aid to Pakistan, Colombia and other countries, reforming the prison system and even the basis for a National Referendum. The applause was thunderous at times, but towards the end of his speech became rather muted. He closed by saying, “This ‘War on the Deficit’ is going to succeed. The enemy of our nation, with its bloody blade hanging over us these many years will be vanquished. We will be beholden to no other nation to fund our existence. We will free ourselves to return to the country we should be. The greatness of America lies ahead of her and we will witness it together, or my name is not Paul White, the President of these United States!”

Bob Gates leaned over to Elliott and whispered, “He always could give a damn good speech.”

“I’d say the game is on. We’d better ready ourselves for the worst they can throw at us,” Elliott replied.

As Elliott left the stage he strode to a quiet location in the shadows and spoke into his cell phone. “Eddie, the game is afoot. Call all the teams in and get rooms at the Four Seasons until you can find an adequate safe house. I want you ready at a moments notice. Oh, and buy a half dozen of the smallest video cameras you can find.”

“Consider it done, Sarge.”

These days it was a rare occasion, but Elliott felt energized and began to hum an old rock tune, ‘Takin’ Care of Business’, as he stepped into the cool Washington night.

Chapter Nineteen

Representative Bruce Bennett and six of his staffers worked closely with the Chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission Samuel Goldman and his team of lawyers, along with Elliott’s attorneys carefully crafting the wording of the bill. A week later Bruce Bennett handed the eighty page document, ‘The War on the Deficit’, to the Clerk of the House who placed it in a wooden box to the side of his desk called the hopper. Representative Bennett didn’t really care for the name of the measure, but the President wanted it to be recognized as something different; something far reaching and vast in scope. The clerk entered the name of the measure in The House Journal and listed Bruce Bennett as the primary sponsor. Later that day, ‘The War on the Deficit’ became known as HR 2239. The Speaker of the House Nick Cobbings assigned it to The House Appropriations Committee because of the bill’s obvious impact on defense spending and foreign operations, and to the House Financial Services Committee because of the stock transaction fee aspect of the bill. Immediately the lobbyists went on the offensive. Representatives of dozens of Washington’s most powerful lobbying firms began contacting members of the Appropriations Committee and the Financial Services Committee, but Elliott’s men, including Eddie Kelley and James Lally, were there armed with video cameras capturing every meeting in great detail. In several cases, posing as lobbyists themselves, Elliott’s’ men were able to get the business cards of some of the most aggressive of the money men.

In the meantime, Elliott placed a call to another long time friend Archie ‘Backspace’ Conner. Mr. Conner had been the troops’ radio man in Iraq and literally spent years in the war zone at Elliott’s side. The two men had become as close as brothers over that time frame. Archie, with a natural gift for anything having to do with air waves and electronics, had become an accomplished political satirist, nationally recognized photographer, frequent editorial contributor and general cynic. When Mr. Conner heard what Elliott had in mind he laughed harder than he had in a long time.

“I love it,” he said. “Sure I’ll be glad to do it. When is the vote going to be held?”

“The bill has been sent to two committees. Ninety percent of the bills sent to committee die in the committee, meaning they are shelved and never sent to the floor of the House for a full vote. Assuming the committees release them without any major amendments, the vote should take place about a week from now.”

“Perfect. That’s plenty of time,” Conner agreed. “All you need to do is e-mail the photos to me.”

“Thanks, Archie,” Elliott replied. “You know where to send the bill.”

Elliott contacted his men in the field and the photos they’d taken of the Committee members were forwarded to Archie within fifteen minutes.

Forty eight hours later, several YouTube videos appeared on the Internet. Videos and articles were sent to Taxpayers for Common Sense, Common Cause and dozens of other liberal groups. Photos and attached editorials were also sent to the Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, the Washington Post and the USA TODAY.

The first was a full page spread in the New York Times. A photo showed two men locked in deep conversation in the hallway outside the congressional chambers. One of the men was House of Representatives Republican from Florida Barney Martin meeting with Dana Pogue of Atherton and Associates. The caption below the almost full page color photo read: “Now why would Rep. Barney Martin, the leading member on the House Appropriations Committee where money is doled out to defense contractors, want to talk to Dana Pogue of the lobbying group Atherton and Associates, one of the most powerful groups representing GE, Lockheed Martin, Boeing and many other defense related companies?

“One guess might be the bill to reduce the number of military bases around the world. They can’t be happy with that idea. They want to keep wasting your tax dollars so they can line their pockets. Don’t you, the American taxpayer deserve better? If you think you deserve better and you think lobbyists should be barred from Capitol Hill, text 151. If you think everything is fine and wish to preserve the status quo, text 152. Note: Rep. Barney Martin and his entire family took a trip to Italy and France a few months back. The whole $38,000 bill was paid for by Maliburton. How do you think he’ll vote?”

The YouTube version went viral in a matter of hours with over 9 million hits.

Another full page exposé in the New York Times showed Rep. Wilson Jenkins walking down the steps of Capitol Hill laughing with Aaron Barr of Podesta Group, a lobbying firm with ties to Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and the Arab Emirates. The video was shot from a hundred feet away and the two men obviously believed they were alone and could not be recorded, but Elliott’s men had some of the most sophisticated listening devices available. Rep. Jenkins is on the House Financial Services Committee.

Jenkins could be heard saying, “Some damn fee to cut into derivatives and futures earnings. Who do they think they are dealing with? We’ll just add an amendment to cut Medicare funding. We’ll see if the Democrats are willing to throw grandma out of her rocking chair or cut into banking profits.”

A voice over as the men continued down the steps said, “The American Government is a disaster. Corporations and special interest groups run the country through the influence of lobbyists in Congress. Congress does not check the power of lobbyists because of greed. The only way to end government corruption is to eliminate the power and access of the lobbyists. As an American citizen, if you think you deserve better text 151, if you are happy with the status quo, text 152.”

When Elliott saw it he couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Oh that’s beautiful work, Archie,” Elliott said to himself.

The last op-ed piece, again paid for by Elliott Eastman, was displayed in all the major newspapers across the country. It showed an elderly man with a stocking cap and grizzled gray beard sitting in a large cardboard box, his hands wrapped in socks with the ends cut out, a grimace on his face as he scooped a wedge of cat food out of a can with one filthy finger. The picture, which took up half a page, was a startling one that universally caused a revulsion reflex in most people.

The editorial read; “You’ve worked hard all your life. You played by the rules and paid your dues.”

The photo on the lower half of the page showed an elegantly dressed gray haired man climbing into a Rolls Royce with the door being held by his chauffer beneath the Wall Street sign.

The caption read: “Don’t you think it’s time someone else paid their fair share. Text 151 if you think a nominal fee on stock transactions (for five years) is fair, or if you’re happy with the status quo, text 152.”

Elliott’s cell phone rang for the hundredth time that day, but he recognized the President’s private number.

“Hello Paul,” he answered.

“Elliott. You’ve outdone yourself. That half page ad with the old man in the box was a thing of beauty,” the President stated enthusiastically.

“Thanks, although I can’t take credit for it. I just happen to know an Internet whiz that is linked to hundreds of other very creative people.”

“Still, it’s got to be sending a powerful message to the House of Representatives and will probably cost Wilson Jenkins and Aaron Barr their jobs.”

“I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. What’s really going to rattle their cages is the results of the text messaging,” added Elliott.

“Any numbers in yet?”

“I was about to check with my man Archie.”

“Good, let me know what he has for us.”

“Will do, but let’s not get carried away. This was the first salvo. The opposition will gather their forces and fight back. Winning over a majority of the House to our way of thinking is going to be a much tougher battle,” Elliott reminded the President.

“I’m realistic, but look what we’ve accomplished in just a few short weeks. The banks have reduced consumer lending rates and Sallie Mae has done the same. Consumer spending is up and rising dramatically. The GDP numbers for the fourth quarter are going to show a two percent jump, at least that’s what the projections are on a preliminary basis. And from what I hear from my people in Congress, we almost have enough votes to pass HR 2239. I will be the president who tamed the deficit.”

“The big banks will fight the transaction fee. They don’t like the fact that the Securities and Exchange Commission is going to set up its own lock box for the fees.”

“It’s the only way I will set it up. We must keep our promise to the people and make this a dedicated account for the sole purpose of eliminating the deficit.”

The pain in Elliott’s side suddenly flared anew and he struggled to stifle a groan.

“Paul, let me touch base with my Internet people and I’ll get back to you shortly.”

“Are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”

“I’m fine, just a case of the hiccups.”

The President laughed. “Okay, I’ll let you go. I look forward to your next phone call.”

Elliott clicked off his phone, then doubled over and gasped. He struggled over to his desk, grabbed the small bottle of pills Dr. Yates had given him and took three. He fell into his chair and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He sat still for about five minutes until he started to feel a little better and then placed the call to Backspace.

“Archie, Elliott here. Is there any news on the text survey?”

“Yes, it’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it. All three of the surveys are off the charts. Reports from my number crunchers indicate over 92% of the responders are texting with ‘yes’ answers on all three questions and, get this, there have been over 30 million responses!”

“Good lord,” Elliott exclaimed. “That’s far beyond my expectations.”

“And they’re still coming in,” Archie added. “You know what the pundits will say. They’ll call it the youth vote, because mom and dad don’t text.”

“Can we run a demographic on who sends text messages? I’m sure Verizon and AT+T will have some numbers on that, but my thought is ‘it’s about time’. The young are the most disenfranchised of all Americans. To get a response like this is nothing short of extraordinary.”

“I agree.”

“Maybe we should play that angle up,” Elliott said thoughtfully.

“Consider it done. I’ve got the perfect idea.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The two men hung up. After Elliott passed the good news on to the President he retreated to the restroom and vomited several times. There was blood in the mix. He then walked slowly back to the den, took four more pills and went straight to bed.