I Do Solemnly Swear (5 page)

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Authors: D.M. Annechino

BOOK: I Do Solemnly Swear
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“Do you actually believe David has a remote chance of winning the election?”

“With you as his running mate he does.”

“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”

He turned toward her and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Kate, this country has been on the verge of a major revolution for decades. Discontented voters hunger for fresh leadership. American citizens have grown weary of the wimpy Democrats and greedy Republicans. David and you are at the right place at the right time. At no time in history has there been an opportunity for two Independents with fresh, innovative ideas and a new agenda to disrupt our two-party system. David’s a leader. A persuasive, charismatic man. When he stands toe-to-toe with the other candidates and debates the issues, he’s going to take their political track records and turn them into swiss cheese.”

“How do I fit into this equation?”

“David and you enjoy a certain philosophical continuity. You both believe in major reform. Granted, you don’t agree on every issue. Who does? But contrasting perspectives create an essential balance of power. Who would make a more powerful team than a dynamic businessman who can apply his proven methods of success to Washington and an honest, bright, idealistic young woman who still believes in Santa Claus?”

She kissed him on the cheek, her soft lips prickled by his leathery skin. “You could teach David Rodgers a thing or two about charisma.”

They spent the next hour sitting quietly, enjoying their time together.

***

As promised, David Rodgers arrived at the White Stallion Ranch at eleven thirty a.m. He was wearing an olive-green suit and a “Save the Children” tie covered with smiling little faces. After perfunctory greetings, Maria served lunch. Afterward, Kate and Rodgers retired to the den. Out of respect, they asked Trevor if he’d like to partake in the meeting, but in spite of his sore back, he opted to saddle up Breezy, his favorite filly, for a ride around the fifty-acre ranch.

Kate felt like she was jumping out of her skin. It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and drawing a breath was impossible. She wanted to believe that the uneasiness resulted from the pot of coffee she’d drunk, but she couldn’t deny that Rodgers gave her the jitters. The den, of course, didn’t help. The room exemplified her father’s propensity for big-game hunting. There were stuffed trophies everywhere: a moose head over the doorway, two elks above the brick fireplace, a life-size grizzly baring his teeth.

To add to her discomfort, she’d forgotten to pack a business suit and was forced to wear jeans, cowboy boots, and a flannel shirt. Western wear had always been her favorite attire, but she felt out of place sitting across from a formally dressed presidential candidate looking like Annie Oakley’s great-granddaughter.

Kate decided that the only way to approach Rodgers was head-on. “So, David, explain to me in detail why you’ve asked me to be your running mate.”

He cleared his throat several times, and she sensed that the question caught him off guard. His green eyes were haunted by some inner anxiety. “You’re the best choice, Kate.”

“Come on, David, an orator like you can do better than that.” She knew his primary motivation but hoped he’d be honest enough to admit it.

“When you were elected to the city council in Topeka, you went against the grain. Got things done. Spearheaded revolutionary legislation. People noticed. I knew it wouldn’t be long before you were asked to run for governor. And you’ve done an extraordinary job in Kansas, but it’s time for you to set your sights higher. Kate, I need a pragmatic running mate. Someone capable of being my right arm, yet independent enough to make things happen. A vice president who stands in the shadows and treads water isn’t going to work for me. I want a partner with a backbone, with a roll-up-your-sleeves, get-the-job-done attitude. Doesn’t that describe you, Kate?”

Her record had been well documented. Not only had Kate shocked the disbelievers by fulfilling all of her campaign promises, but she also instituted the Back-to-Work program, which granted private corporations substantial tax incentives for hiring and retraining displaced workers. As a result, several major corporations relocated to Kansas. In office for only two years, she had decreased Kansas unemployment from 11 percent to less than 6 percent, the third-lowest rate in the country, while increasing revenues 13 percent. Her face had adorned the covers of
Newsweek
and
Time
.

She knew she’d done a good job and appreciated that he recognized her accomplishments, but he was still cleverly avoiding the central issue. “OK, we both know that I’m a terrific governor. But I can think of at least ten people more qualified than I for the VP nomination. Why am I in front of the pack, David?”

He loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and sat forward in the chair. “It’s a new century, Kate. Being a woman is a powerful attribute.”

“So my
gender
is more important than my qualifications?”

“No, Kate, you’re political qualifications
are
essential—”

“Admit it, David. If I were a man with the same track record, I wouldn’t make the cut, would I?”

He smiled sheepishly. “OK, Kate. You wanna hear me say it? I can’t win without the female vote. And Katherine Miles is the most influential female politician in the country.”

“That’s an arguable point, but thank you for being truthful.”

“I hope you don’t think I was trying to be dishonest.”

She smiled. “A little wimpy, maybe, but not dishonest. As long as we’re baring our souls, David, perhaps I should tell you what I expect. After you listen, you might come to your senses.” She took a moment to compose her thoughts. “You said that I need to be your right arm. That has to be a promise, not lip service. I refuse to play the role as the token woman who rode your coattails to Washington. I want to be knee-deep in every aspect of the administration, and I expect to be included in all significant decisions.”

“Look, Kate, I don’t anticipate that Congress will receive two Independents with open arms. They’re going to fight us tooth and nail on every issue. I want you to be a hands-on VP.”

“That’s great. But still, I have deep reservations abandoning the Democratic Party.”

Rodgers laughed. “Kate, I can relate to your concerns. It isn’t necessary that you abandon all your Democratic principles. But make no mistake about it, you owe the Democratic Party nothing.”

Kate digested his words for several minutes. She surmised, considering not one Congressional seat was occupied by an Independent, that significant change would take decades.

“If we do win, David, how do you suppose we’ll be able to accomplish anything? We have few allies in Washington.”

“Neither the Democrats nor Republicans have complete continuity within their respective parties. You’d be hard-pressed finding two to agree on any issue. That’s our advantage. Not
having an allegiance to any particular party gives us the flexibility to reach across both aisles. This may be our most powerful tool. If you truly believe that big government has stripped Americans of the basic freedoms our forefathers died for and wish to give the power back to the voters, then fundamentally your goals are parallel to mine. And I believe we can muster enough support from both sides to pass some groundbreaking legislation.

“There’s no way that the executive office can strong-arm Congress. But we
can
influence and educate voters. It’s a long, tedious process. We must open their eyes to the failing system and show them a better way. Our goal is not to effect immediate change. That’s a naive ambition. We must inspire Americans with new ideals. We’re farmers, Kate. Plant a few seeds of ideas here and there, cultivate and water them, and eventually they’ll blossom.”

With great anticipation of one day entering Washington politics, for years Kate had been diligently working on a project she’d titled Healing of America. The concepts, many radical, consisted of innovative reform bills and amendments to the Constitution.

“Have you read my Healing of America bills?”

He reached into his briefcase and removed a folder as thick as a ream of paper. “I’ve made several notes throughout. It’s brilliant, Kate.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me introduce it to Congress?”

Rodgers didn’t reply immediately. Kate felt a slight pang at the base of her neck. This was the deal breaker. If he hadn’t taken the time to review a project so vitally important to her, then perhaps her decision had already been made.

“I have two conditions. First, you must agree to some minor modifications—nothing too drastic. Mere technicalities. And second, I don’t want to create false hopes, Kate. You need to know right up front that Congress is going to blow this out of the water.”

Kate had no delusions that Congress would embrace her Healing of America bills with even a morsel of enthusiasm, but just to introduce them would be historic, the first important step toward achieving her long-term objectives and exposing Congress to a new philosophy.

This was the most consequential crossroad of her life. Reservations and fear engulfed her. If she accepted the offer and David and she were defeated, it could be a bitter end to a promising career. But Kate had always been a warrior. She hadn’t climbed the political ladder without taking immense risks. Why should she change her aggressive posture now?

“OK, Mr. Rodgers, there are a few issues we obviously need to negotiate, but unless you confess that you’re a communist or a serial killer, I think it’s safe to assume that you’ve got yourself a running mate.”

They both stood up as if on cue. David Rodgers firmly shook her hand. He pulled Kate close and embraced her. She gazed at the moose over the doorway. She thought she saw a reassuring wink.

***

Leonard LaPlant carefully studied the lab report. It wasn’t very often that he was affected by death; he’d performed over three thousand autopsies. But moisture from his trembling fingers pressed damp spots into the paper. He swiveled in his chair, faced the cluttered credenza, and reached for the telephone. The medical examiner reviewed the lab report one more time just to be sure he had read it right.

Unknown toxin. Organic origin
.

“Lord in heaven.”

He dialed Charles McDermott’s private number as instructed.

***

Kate waited by the curb on Pennsylvania Avenue, moments before the funeral procession began. Elizabeth Rodgers, sobbing uncontrollably, was by her side. Charles McDermott stood to her right, and Peter stood slightly behind her. Kate’s jacket pockets were stuffed with damp Kleenex. She clutched her black handbag. The procession moved slowly. Kate struggled to inhale a breath of the thick, sultry air. Her chest felt compressed, as if her lungs were lined with concrete. She looked up at the billowing clouds, expecting a downpour any minute. Kate felt sure that this quiet tribute to a noble patriot would sweep the nation. David Rodgers’s coffin, draped in Old Glory, proceeded ahead of them. From around the globe, sorrowful sobs echoed in the air; tears flowed from loyal supporters, friends, loved ones, and mournful citizens. In less than a year in office, he had captured the hearts of all Americans.

Like a sudden storm that emerges without warning, Kate felt the full impact of her loss. She could not deny that David and she’d had their political differences, but he had not merely been the president; he was a friend, a confidant, a mentor. He was a visionary who could have affected the course of history. The burden now rested on her shoulders, and she could feel the enormous weight buckling her knees.

For the first time in her adult life, the secure, confident farm girl from Kansas realized that she was standing in a pool of quicksand from which there was no escape.

***

It was a private meeting.

Only ethnocentric Germans could become members, not one drop of mongrel blood, only pure Aryan for three generations. Their vow was for life—a pledge to follow the doctrines unconditionally.

It was not a group that accepted resignations.

In a run-down, abandoned building in Oak Grove, Alabama, Jakob Hoffman stood before the Disciples of the Third Reich; his ice-blue eyes stared intensely at the chosen one. Soon, Hoffman’s blood brother would achieve a great honor. He swept a calloused palm across his shaved head and wiped away the sweat. Hoffman clenched his fist and pounded it against his bare chest. “It’s time to prove yourself, brother.” He lifted the newspaper and pointed to President Miles. “Slaughter this swine like the pig she is.”

Guenther Krause gaped at the picture, partially in shock, but intensely aroused.

“I’ll bleed her like a fat hog.” He removed the black bandana from his head and bowed toward Hoffman. “When do I gut the bitch?”

“As soon as we hear from Krieger in Washington.”

CHAPTER THREE

Kate quickly discovered that the Oval Office was not a secure environment for one-on-one conferences, so she asked McDermott to meet her in her private office at seven a.m. She’d spent most of the night, between brief periods of disquieted sleep, studying background information on Cabinet secretaries and other staff members. She painstakingly examined their performance records and scrutinized their level of experience. In spite of her promise to McDermott not to “clean house,” Kate still had to objectively evaluate her staff. As commander in chief, she was faced with the indelicate task of restructuring—if necessary. She found this impending onus to be particularly disconcerting.

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