The jet began to taxi. Gordon turned to introduce Daryl — his chief of staff, right-hand man and best friend. Fein instead greeted the two Secret Service agents who sat quietly in the front. ‘Hey, I know you!’ he said, shaking the hand of one of the agents with a flourish. ‘You were on the Bush detail, right?’ The man nodded. ‘Coffee, black, with two Equals, right?’ Fein said, smiling and pointing at the man’s face. ‘Am I right?’
‘That’s right, Mr Fein,’ the man said — smiling for the first time. He then introduced his unsmiling younger partner.
Daryl sat down and buckled up as the jet turned onto the runway.
Fein sat across from Gordon. The noise of the engines on take-off was too great to introduce Daryl. Gordon waited in Fein’s fixed gaze. The man took in Gordon with a placid expression on his face. A study in comfort with his foot on the low coffee table and his hands — protruding from crisp white cuffs studded with gold cuff links — clasped in his lap. His suit was Savile Row — broad pin stripes down thick, heavy fabric despite the summer weather. His red tie matched the kerchief sticking jauntily out of his breast pocket. His blue shirt was topped with a starched white collar pinched together with a nearly hidden gold collar pin.
Gordon averted his eyes self-consciously from Fein’s stare. Daryl was looking at Fein also. The look on his face was one of seething anger. Elaine looked down at the table, uninterested in any of it.
The moment the engine noise dropped, Fein unexpectedly turned and said, ‘You must be Daryl Shavers.’ He held his hand over the table to shake Daryl’s — a pleasant smile on his face.
Fein’s hand hung in air for a moment, and Fein waited. Gordon looked over at Daryl, who finally shook hands without comment. Fein was unfazed. ‘Dear?’ he said — turning to catch the flight attendant’s attention. ‘Sparkling water, please. Chilled, no ice.’ He then pulled a slim briefcase up and laid it on the table. ‘I hope you don’t mind if we jump right in. We’re going to be pretty busy when we touch down, so this might be our best opportunity to get down to the nitty-gritty.’
‘I absolutely agree,’ Gordon said. Daryl extracted a legal pad filled with notes from an expandable folder that served as his briefcase. ‘There’s a lot we need to discuss. What will our statement on the terrorism be? On the Chinese crackdown in Beijing? You know I’ve got a strong record on crime. And the anarchy that’s sweeping this country is really just a variant of…’
Gordon fell silent when Fein made a big production of laying a single sheet of paper on the table. ‘Okay,’ Fein said in a businesslike tone. ‘Day one. “Hi, my name is Gordon Davis. I’m a young, handsome, conservative, well-groomed, well-spoken, well-educated African-American male with an equally attractive, perfectly functional and loving wife and family. I’m a Norman Rockwell wet dream for the 1990s. I’m the great hope that we might all just possibly end up getting along together after all.’” He held his index finger up. ‘Day one.’ Gordon stared back at him. In the silence that followed, Daryl rolled his eyes. Elaine was looking out the window.
‘Any questions so far?’ Fein asked, ignoring Daryl completely.
Gordon shrugged. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘That’s it. The substantive part, that is.’
Daryl snorted and turned his head toward the window. ‘Sh-shit,’ he muttered.
‘Now,’ Fein continued, smiling as if at his own humor, ‘for the next couple of hours, I’d like to work with you on a few things… with your permission.’
‘Absolutely,’ Gordon said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘I have a lot of questions, obviously.’
‘Good! Let’s have them.’
‘Well, first off, what is Governor Bristol’s position on the latest wave of terrorism? If it turns out that it’s tied directly to the Russian anarchists, will we propose any direct action?’
Fein wore the same pleasant smile. It was part of his ensemble. ‘I haven’t the foggiest idea.’
Gordon screwed up his face. ‘I don’t understand. I was told that you were being sent to handle the press.’ Fein pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows, nodding amiably. ‘Well,’ Gordon said, looking over at Daryl, who was grinning ear-to-ear, ‘what am I supposed to say when I’m asked questions in Atlanta?’
Fein slid the single sheet of paper across the table to Gordon.
Gordon picked it up. ‘Hi, my name is Gordon Davis,’ he read in silence. ‘I’m a young, handsome, conservative, well-groomed, well-spoken, well-educated African-American male with an equally attractive, perfectly functional and loving wife and family.’
‘That’s really quite a lot to cram into one day, you understand,’ Fein said.
‘What…?’ The words hung in Gordon’s mouth. He was at a loss.
‘Okay, now,’ Fein said, leaning forward. ‘A few additional points. First,’ he began, speaking earnestly now, ‘you need to work on what I call “white space.” ’ He smiled at Elaine for no reason, Gordon thought, other than to politely ‘touch base’ with her. She stared back at him — expressionless. ‘Pauses in your speech. They’re very effective for stressing emphasis. Slow it down. You have a tendency to try to jam as much content as you can into any given period of time. What we need to do is work on your sound bites. To get sound bites, you need emphasis. For emphasis, you’ve got to learn that pauses are very important. So is voice modulation. No monotone. We want to capture some… of… that… passion!’ he said by way of example — his voice rising and falling. His words stressed merely by the pacing of his speech.
Gordon was impressed. Daryl said, ‘Jesus Christ!’ disgustedly.
‘Give it a try,’ Fein suggested. He sat back, folded his arms and waited.
Gordon stared at him for a second. ‘What? Now?’ he asked. Fein nodded. ‘What do I say?’
Fein spoke slowly, spaced, intentionally filled with emphasis. ‘That doesn’t really matter.’
‘That is something I feel very strongly about,’ Gordon said slowly.
‘Even slower,’ Fein corrected.
Gordon repeated the words with an unnaturally slow pacing, watching himself in the tiny lavatory’s mirror.
‘There. See?’ Gordon saw Fein’s reflection over the padded right shoulder of his jacket. ‘Now, what I want you to do is lean forward a little.’ He pressed Gordon in the center of his back. ‘Go on.’ Gordon leaned forward just slightly. ‘There. Leaning forward creates intensity. Next, empty one pocket and put your hand in it.’
Gordon looked at him in the mirror. ‘Which one?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Gordon put his left hand in his pocket and pulled his handkerchief and breath mints out and put them on the sink. He slid his hand into the empty pocket. ‘All right,’ Fein continued, ‘chop the air with your right hand for even more emphasis.’ Fein made a motion like he was breaking a board with a karate chop. ‘Try it. Pick any word and emphasize it with a chop.’
Gordon watched himself in the mirror. ‘That is something I feel very strongly about,’ he said — chopping on the word ‘strongly.’ The delivery gave the word more punch. It worked.
‘Pick a different word,’ Fein said.
‘What?’
‘Pick a different word and chop. Give it a try.’
Gordon looked back into the mirror. ‘That is something I feel very strongly about.’ The context changed meaning with the gesture. ‘That is something I’ he stressed and chopped, ‘feel very strongly about.’ Gordon had to smile.
‘You see? What did I tell you? And the beauty of it is you can take any word in the human language and make people think you feel passionately,’ he said — grabbing the air with both hands and yanking down — ‘about any subject just by body language.’ Fein slapped Gordon on the back. ‘Can you remember all that?’ Gordon nodded. ‘Let me hear it. Let’s go over it again.’