Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [187]
“I don’t know if I can do that, Manny.”
“Your call, Wellington, but just know your contract is up in two months and there’s no way we’ll renew it with you if you don’t get your show turned around. That’s my message to you, and I wanted you to hear it direct from me.” Before Wellington could respond, O’Neil and his party of two left without saying another word.
Wellington returned to his office to prepare for his afternoon show, but it was impossible. He walked out on me and didn’t even give me a chance to respond. No one does that to Wellington Crane and gets away with it. Replacing his preparation time with an all-out assault on his three-quarter-full vodka bottle, he worked himself into a self-righteous rage that had to be sated. What better place to do it than before his audience of fifteen million devoted fans?
Wellington stumbled into his broadcast studio and did something he had never done before: he went on the air dead drunk. Then he launched an attack on Manny O’Neil and all of his detractors that none would soon forget. Manny O’Neil, for one, had a long memory.
Hart Senate Building
25 May 2018
Tom Collingsworth jittered with anxiety as he walked over to Senate Majority Leader Fred Anders’s office. He never invites me in for a visit unless it’s to give me bad news. I sure wish Hugo was here, he thought as he entered Anders’s office suite. It didn’t help his nerves to be kept waiting for fifteen minutes before being ushered in to meet Anders.
“Tom,” said Anders quietly. “Sit down. There’s something we’ve got to talk about.”
“This sounds serious, Fred. What’s it all about?” asked Collingsworth, a political sixth sense telling him he was in deep trouble.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s very serious, Tom. I won’t mince words with you. You’ve been a thorn in your party’s side ever since you first got here, and since hooking up with Wellington Crane you’ve repeatedly embarrassed us with your groundless attacks. There are at least seven of our party’s senators up for a tough reelection, and you’ve put them all in a bad spot. Every time you open your big mouth they get hurt. It’s guilt by association, and since they’re in the same party as you, they must also be bad guys, right? That’s how some people think, anyway. Your recent opposition to the White House on their joint energy and environmental proposal with China in the UN went totally against our party’s position of support. And as chair of the Foreign Relations Committee, your voice gets heard, not your fellow senators'. Are you getting my drift, Tom?”
“Yes, I do, Fred,” Collingsworth replied, thinking now that this meeting would involve nothing more than a slap on the wrist. “But I don’t think I can turn the other way and shirk my duties.”
“That’s about what I thought you would say, Tom, and that’s why I’m asking for your resignation as chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, and I want it on my desk by the end of the day.”
“That’s impossible, Fred.” Collingsworth indignantly replied. “I’ve got a tough primary fight in my state, and this move would ruin any chances I have of winning. I’ll maybe consider it after I win the primary, but I can’t do it before then.”
“You don’t seem to understand, Tom. This is not a request, and it’s not negotiable,” Anders said flatly.
“It’s not my fault that our weak-kneed colleagues won’t stand up for the truth!” Collingsworth shouted, his legendary temper now triggered. “Good grief, man! The war is over and we’re still rationing oil. You can’t oust me on the grounds we differ in opinion, and you know it. What are you going to do about it if I refuse?”
“I was hoping not to play this card, Tom, but you leave me no choice. We have some pretty