‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘Is Congress on board with that decision?’
Dekker nodded. ‘The leadership of the Committee has quietly agreed to set aside any further discussion of the subject, but I expect you to keep that under your hat.’ The first sign of a smile twinkled in his eyes. ‘You can tell Liddy, of course, assuming she hasn’t already heard it through the wives’ grapevine.’
Clark still wasn’t ready to play the good soldier and smile at Dekker’s attempt at humor. ‘Might I ask the reason for the Committee’s change of heart?’
‘Geography,’ Dekker said curtly, ‘Korea gets the 2nd Infantry and all the attention, Nate. But let’s not forget that USARPAC is responsible for the defense of U.S. interests and allies from the Ural Mountains to the California coast and from the North to the South Pole — ex-clusive of the Korean peninsula.’
‘What else is there but Korea, sir?’ Clark replied.
There was a long pause, and Clark sensed the heads of the officers swiveling between Clark and Dekker.
The Army Chief of Staff spoke in deep and slow tones. ‘You are not to utter one word of this discussion, Nate. This part of it, anyway. Not even to Liddy.’ Dekker looked one at a time then at the faces of the senior officers gathered around his desk. ‘This conversation didn’t happen, is that understood? If it ever got out that we even breathed a word of this here, I’d have the State Department and the White House probing my lower intestines with a hot poker.’
There was muted laughter, but not from Clark.
‘We do have a potential threat in the theater,’ Dekker said. ‘You know who I’m talking about?’
‘I’d like you to say it, sir. I don’t want any misunderstanding, not on something like this.’
Dekker took a deep breath. ‘China, Nate.’ There was dead silence around the room. ‘They’ve been modernizing their military for over a decade. And they’re wetting their pants to bust out of the straitjacket they’re in all along their borders. If they go south, no problem. That’s Vietnam’s fight. If they go west, that’s India. Still fine. If they go north, let the Russians take care of it. But if they go east — Korea, Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines — they run into us. You, specifically, with the exception of Korea. That’s why we’re sending you to Oahu. What I’m saying, Nate, is that if this country goes to war with the People’s Republic of China, it’ll be your war. I want that command ready. I need you to make it happen.’
It was growing late. Gordon Davis and his family were exhausted.
The door opened. The roar of the crowd poured into the small but well-appointed waiting room. The noise extinguished the small talk between the Davises and the Bristols. A man with a clipboard and a headset entered. In the concrete corridor outside there lurked large, stony-faced Secret Service agents.
‘All right,’ said the man with the headset. ‘Governor Bristol, Senator Davis, we’ve got about five minutes before the Chair sends it back to the Connecticut delegation. Your home state passed earlier, Senator Davis, so they can put you over the top. Right after they vote, the Chair is going to suspend the roll call and request a nomination by acclamation. Then the standard stuff. Balloons, bands, yatta yatta. Now let’s run through real quickly what you’re gonna do. First, we’ll cue you to head out by yourself. It’s twenty-two normal-length paces to your mark, which is number eighty-four. It’s printed on some tape stuck onto the stage floor just to your left of the podium. The stage manager will have a diagram when you get up there. If it’s covered in confetti, just remember twenty-two paces to the left of the podium. Okay?’
Gordon nodded.
‘Raise your arms up like this,’ the man said, holding his arms up and out, waving with both hands at the imaginary crowd.
‘Skip that,’ Arthur Fein said from the corner. ‘It’ll bunch up his shoulders and his jacket’ll ride up. Too Nixonesque.’
‘All right,’ the man with the headset, said, scratching something off his clipboard.
‘Wave with one hand in the general direction of the floor,’ Fein said to Gordon. ‘Every once in a while point with that same hand to one spot or another. You can wink if you feel comfortable, but above all smile, smile, smile.’
‘We’ve got about three minutes planned for the ovation,’ the man with the headset said. ‘Three minutes and twelve seconds for the song “Proud to be an American.” Then we cut to your family. Mrs Davis, you bring the girls out one on each side, the little one between you and the crowd.’
‘I don’t want them on stage,’ Gordon said. All eyes turned to him, including his family’s. ‘I’d just rather not, after last night’
The man with the headset said, ‘Senator Davis, let me assure you that security is extraordinarily tight. I’ve done dozens of stadium events in my life and I’ve never seen anything like this. The Secret Service even has sharpshooters up in the press boxes.’
Arthur Fein stepped in and took Gordon’s elbow. Off to the side of the room, Fein said, ‘Gordy, this is a prime time, command performance. The networks tell us we might break records for the last day of a convention. Remember what I told you today’s message was? Ten or fifteen minutes on stage tonight will put it out to a forty share.’
‘But I’m not even going to say anything,’ Gordon protested. ‘All the better. We’ve got you and your lovely wife and daughters all standing amid an adoring throng. Balloons, confetti, rousing music on nationwide television!’
‘Two minutes,’ the man with the headset said.
‘Gordy,’ Fein said, squeezing Gordon’s elbow. Gordon gently pulled it free. ‘We’re gonna get all four anchormen talking how, in a day when deep divisions fragment our society and…’
‘Okay, okay,’ Gordon said. The words meant nothing to Fein. They were bullshit that scored points in the polls. Gordon turned to the coordinator. ‘If you can guarantee my family’s safety…’ The man nodded distractedly.
On television, the Governor of Connecticut repeated over and over, ‘La-a-adies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen.’
‘Let’s go,’ the coordinator said. Gordon and his family were swept from the room with one last slap on Gordon’s back by Philip Bristol. The Davis kids passed awkwardly by their opposites from the Bristol family. They smiled but had nothing to say.
‘Gordon,’ Daryl Shavers said. He ran to catch up with the entourage. ‘Gordon, we’ve gotta talk.’ He squeezed into the mass of handlers. They bumped and jostled their way past party workers who applauded as Gordon passed. ‘They’re gonna play “We Shall Overcome”,’ Daryl said.
‘What?’ Gordon snapped. He turned and halted. The coordinator nervously glanced down at his watch. ‘“We Shall Overcome”?’ Gordon asked the coordinator.
‘What?’ the man said. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Gordon said. ‘I want the song out.’
A burst of air was all that came from the exasperated coordinator. He was smiling but shaking his head. ‘That’s impossible! It’d screw everything up. That’s a live band out there. They’ve got sheet music. The timing is…’ He held the boom mike from the headset to his lips. ‘Tell Connecticut to stretch! Just stretch it!’
Gordon and his family were swept along. They barely made it to the edge of the stage before another man with a headset grabbed Gordon by the arm.
‘… the next Vice President of the United States of America,’ the loudspeakers boomed, ‘Senator Gordon Davis!’
Gordon eyed the bare wood and exposed wires on the rear of the stage wall. On the public side, all was seamless blue. But the view from the inside revealed the flimsy façade.