Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [149]
With hurricane alarms blaring in the background, he sat in his den and reflected on the call-to-arms videoconference call he had held with Senator Tom Collingsworth and Hugo Bromfield last week. He smiled as he recalled the cacophony of invectives hurled at McCarty by the good senator.
“It’s hogwash, Wellington,” Collingsworth had frothed. “The American people will never buy the crap McCarty’s trying to cram down our throats, never. I’ll do everything in my power to oppose him and his bumbling administration, and he can consider his Cartright VP nomination DOA. Are you with me on this, Wellington?” shouted the apoplectic senator.
“Well of course I am, Tom. If you’ll recall, it was I who invited you and Hugo to plan our assault on the BM administration. But now we have something even better to rally against—the McCarty Manifesto. The real question is, are you willing to go all the way to stop McCarty in his tracks, Senator?”
The tirade that followed seemed to embarrass even the unflappable Hugo Bromfield. Wellington feared for the senator’s life as Collingsworth exploded with a rage that made the veins in his reddened neck bulge with each new wave of invective. “I’ll live and die with this issue, but I’ll never, ever willingly let McCarty destroy everything I hold sacred. No sir, I will never do that.” Collingsworth collapsed in his chair, exhausted by his outburst.
“Senator,” said Wellington with what passed for compassion in his voice, “You are a great American, and I share your rage. Together, we’ll take McCarty down, if it’s the last thing we do. Hugo, are you with us?”
“Thank you, Wellington,” Hugo replied, sounding happy to be acknowledged for once, “I’m with you all the way. What do you intend to do now?”
“It wasn’t that long ago,” Wellington replied enthusiastically, “that we agreed to take our case against the BM administration to the American people. Burkmeister gummed it up with his terminal illness, and we laid low for a while. The new McCarty Manifesto and his ill-advised nomination of Elizabeth Cartright to be VP changes everything. This man is dangerous and has to be stopped, and as loyal Americans it’s our job to expose McCarty for the danger he is. We’re taking off the gloves, gentlemen, and going after him with everything we’ve got.”
Collingsworth and Bromfield smiled.
“We are reviving our campaign and renaming it ‘Taking Back America.’ We’ll do the road shows, as planned, and make sure not an hour goes by that something isn’t said about McCarty’s treachery on any given media outlet at any given time.
“Can you believe this guy?” Wellington asked, working himself into a rage, “going before Congress and showing off his cutesy little chart and his stupid perfect storm metaphor, talking down to all of us like schoolchildren? He manufactures a crisis—and I call it ‘manufactured’ because we could go into Saudi Arabia right now and get those oil fields back in a jiffy—and then he uses it as a pretext for instituting martial law in our country. And rationing? Do you think I’m going to let that clown tell me I can’t fly my jet or drive my Rolls-Royce?”
“There are a lot of us in the Senate that don’t like his willingness to circumvent Congress to impose his will, Wellington, and …”
“And what, Senator?” Crane prodded. “What exactly will those namby-pambies in the Senate do? You’ll talk about it, but you’ll cave in. You always do …”
“Just who in the hell do you think you’re talking to, Wellington?” screamed the outraged senator. “How dare you include me in with that bunch? How dare you …”
“Now, now, relax, Senator,” Wellington had responded, hardly able to suppress a chuckle, “I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about the others. I know you’ll do what you can, but your example isn