“What is your response to the comments of Rush Limbaugh about this?” he asked.
I grimaced at that. “What I’d like to know is how Rush Limbaugh managed to become the voice of family values in this country. He’s on his third wife and I’m still working on my first. He has no children and I have three. My daughters are straight A students. My son is off defending the nation so this blithering idiot can spew his vileness. Yet somehow he is the one who gets to pronounce that my wife and daughters are sluts and bimbos?”
“The worst part is that all of you go along with him on this! Last night I had to sit with them and watch Tom Brokaw announce it on national television, but I could have turned to any other channel or read it in any of your papers. Many of you in this room have met my girls and my wife, and you know that these are lies and slanders, and yet you report them anyway. Here’s another thing they know about out in the real world — shame!”
Somebody yelled out, “So what are you going to do about it?”
I glanced around the room but couldn’t figure out who had spoken. It didn’t matter at that point. “Well, I had to teach my daughters about reporters, didn’t I? They’ve lost a piece of their innocence. From now on they’ll always have to wonder if the people they meet and the boys they date think the awful things that the people in this room have said about them.”
I looked over at an ashen faced Ari Fleischer and stepped back. “I think we’re done here.” I turned and walked down the hallway back to my office.
That night selected excerpts of my press conference made the news, and in full on The Daily Show, with Jon Stewart throwing in pithy comments along the way. He also threw in Rush’s latest invective and commentary from Fox News, which couldn’t figure out whether to back a Republican politician, me, or a Republican icon, Rush. They tried for both and got neither. It would have been hilarious if it didn’t involve my family.
Marilyn and the girls flew down to Washington and stayed the weekend with me. They were pretty upset with some of the things they were hearing around school. I knew it would pass, but it still wasn’t nice. It’s one thing to hear that Rush Limbaugh or some political types were attacking me, but quite another to find it was slopping onto them. Marilyn’s comment to me was simply, “I’m your first wife? Think again! I’m your only wife!”
I had to grin at that and reply, “I don’t know, honey. Maybe I’m behind on the count. Maybe you need to keep me from testing the waters.”
Holly and Molly both yelled, “GROSS!” and ran off to their rooms.
Marilyn tried to punch me and I wrapped her in my arms. “Gross!” she laughed.
“Gross!” I agreed.
Things were tense in the West Wing for a few days. It all blew over, as I knew it would. Rush amped up his bile for a few days until even he went over the line and he began taking heat for it, especially from his sponsors. Ari Fleischer settled down as the ruckus ended. Karl Rove hated my guts before, and hated them now.
Ahhh! The joy of politics! Oh, if I could only go back to being a simple multibillionaire.
Chapter 137: Treason
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
It was surprisingly easy to commit high treason.
By the end of July it was becoming obvious that if I had been hoping to have any effect on the future of the country it had been a delusion. They were beating a drum loudly about going to war with Iraq. Anybody moderate or who tried to point towards terrorism was fired, demoted, or ignored. I was asking all sorts of questions about sleeper cells and whether information was passing between the FBI and CIA, and was told to sit down and shut up. I heard from one of the mid-level people over at the CIA that Wolfowitz and Scooter Libby were ordering intelligence estimates to be slanted heavily in the direction that Cheney and Bush wanted. He wasn’t sure, but he thought some of it was being falsified.
This was something that happened in a lot of cases. Intelligence is a tricky business, and you can never really say for sure what the bad guys are up to. The analysts normally give you a spectrum of choices, such as a happy choice, the realistic choice, and the if-things-go-to-shit choice. They were busy over at Langley blowing smoke up everybody’s asses, and if you weren’t with the program, shut up and pack your bags. Saddam Hussein was gearing up to bring nuclear war to America, and we needed to stop him!
I tried to stop it. I stayed in contact with Richard Clarke and tried to figure out ways to highlight the possible damage coming. We even went over all the various scenarios that I knew were coming, even if they were only the ones in Tom Clancy’s novels. Nothing we did was even admitted to be discussed at National Security Council meetings. I could have marched through with a brass band and a bullhorn and not been noticed.
On the domestic side, it wasn’t much better. We already knew taxes were going to be lowered. While I had managed to get the original 10 % decrease for the year cut to 5 %, they would make up for it next year. In addition, dozens of domestic programs were going to go under the axe in the name of efficiency and deregulation. Be careful eating that burger, because while the FDA and the Surgeon General and the Centers for Disease Control were still around, their budgets were cut in half and they no longer had any inspectors or technicians to test anything or doctors to treat you if you got sick.
Elsewhere, my disloyalty was goading Bush into an action practically unheard of in modern politics. He was planning to dump me. The Vice President is an elected official, not an appointee, so he can’t be fired, only impeached. Rove was leaking to Washington that the President was unhappy with my performance and that I wasn’t a team player and he wouldn’t be bringing me back for the second term. There was even a quiet intimation that my family’s mental health issues were surfacing in me as well. So far this was just a whisper campaign, with nobody saying anything for the record, and nobody saying where they had heard these silly rumors, but it was starting to get out. I spoke to Fletcher Donaldson the last weekend of July at the house in Hereford, and he told me he had heard some things, but without any confirmation he couldn’t print it yet. I simply replied that it was three years away from the election, and he shouldn’t believe everything he heard.
So, I fought back. What better way to fight a whisper campaign than with one of my own. I made a few phone calls to some financial types in New York and let them know I wanted to explore some options for the future, and would they be interested in putting together a breakfast meeting and then maybe some one-on-one time with a few people in New York. We could discuss options for the future and some financial issues, maybe do a little preliminary fundraising for the RNC for the future. No, of course I wasn’t going to run! No, we were just going to talk and raise a little cash for the future. I’d give a nice little speech or two somewhere and come home the next day.
The breakfast meeting was set for 8:30 AM Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001. We would have breakfast at Windows on the World, the restaurant near the top of the World Trade Center North Tower. After breakfast I would join some of the executives of Cantor Fitzgerald in their conference room, along with a few other financial types.
Of all the things I had ever done since I recycled, this would be the worst by orders of magnitude. After I hung up the phone I went into my private bathroom and threw up my lunch. I knew I was condemning thousands of people to death, but they were going to die anyway. There was nothing I could do to stop the attacks of 9/11. Nobody in the White House, the CIA, or the State Department was listening. I could stand up on the table in the Cabinet Room during a meeting and scream it from a megaphone and it wouldn’t be heard.