Kicking the Can (28 page)

“
I suggested the campaign, but Ms. Vogel’s execution is all her own doing,” Mitchell said to President Cannon. “Full-page ads are running in
USA Today
, the
Wall Street Journal
, the
New York Times
, the
Washington Post
, and the
Los Angeles Times
. They’ve also secured thirty-second TV spots with all of the major networks. They’re hyping the impending release of the proposal and drumming up public support for the court to require transparency. Mitchell handed President Cannon the ad he clipped from the
Washington Post
. “It’s all the buzz with political talk shows. Polls indicate the vast majority of citizens are willing to sacrifice if Washington has a plan to balance the budget. Bennett and the super committee have refused to comment or give interviews,” Mitchell said. “Their press conference was canceled at the last minute.”

112

O
n Tuesday morning, the court ruled copies of the proposals prepared by teams competing in Donald’s Contest were to be posted on the White House website by noon Thursday for public comment. The court reaffirmed the super committee’s authority to determine and implement health care entitlement reforms. Battles reported Bennett had not filed an appeal. Arnie Donovan posted President Cannon’s draft proposal to the Chinese on the White House website.

113

O
n Friday afternoon, Goldman Sachs published a preliminary assessment of Drummond’s white paper and President Cannon’s proposal to the Chinese.

We see two distinct health care markets: government and private. Bennett’s legislation gives the super committee authority to develop and implement health care reforms. The question: who will take the lead, government or industry?

Monetizing the net worth of America’s citizens is the mechanism Drummond’s team identified to raise investment capital. Shares will be securitized by the net worth of households. If the Chinese convert their US treasuries into common stock and authorize their citizens to invest overseas in the US health care industry, raising $2 to $5 trillion appears doable.

The emergence of a new capital market for health care will be an enticement for existing health care businesses to abandon protectionist strategies in favor of new business combinations aimed at achieving affordability. Surplus capital raised from the initial and subsequent stock offerings could be held in a sovereign wealth fund for future investment in other strategic initiatives.

In conclusion, we see no legal barriers to the implementation of Drummond’s health care reforms and President Cannon’s proposed trade agreement with China.

114

C
hris Drummond stood on the steps of the main lodge at Camp David watching the pilot of Marine One set the VH-3D Sea King helicopter down on the grass lawn below. The five-rotor turbine began to spin down, and Drummond descended to the helipad. The “prop wash” was still brisk, and tousled his hair. An identical bird landed forty yards away.

The president had called an hour earlier. “I have someone I want you to meet,” was all he said.

“Good morning, Drummond,” President Cannon said as he stood at the base of the folding stairs with his hand extended.

“Good morning, Mr. President.”

Drummond climbed the stairs of Marine One and strapped himself in next to President Cannon.

“Mr. President. Did I tell you what happened when I went helicopter sightseeing in Maui?”

President Cannon laughed. “I had the same problem ocean fishing. Threw up all over Sebastian. Green for two hours—miserable. Not to worry, the ride in from DC was smooth.”

“Where are we headed?” Drummond asked.

“Baltimore, Maryland. Johns Hopkins University—world-class health care.”

Marine One landed on the heliport of the University hospital. The president and Drummond were met at the rooftop entrance by three secret service agents and a hospitalist. Dr. Lisa Brewer led them down to the seventh floor.

“I see you have our boy in a private room. Does insurance pay for this?” President Cannon questioned.

“Not many plans. The patients here are paying for the upgrade out of pocket.”

“I hope so.”

“Uncle Sam isn’t paying for this. The hospital arranged for a private benefactor,” Brewer said.

“If we are going to talk the talk on this health care business, we need to walk the walk.”

Dr. Brewer stopped at 706, a corner room, next to two uniformed men wearing side arms. They were cleared to enter.

“Drummond, you go in,” the president said. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Dain was lying in a special mechanical bed, partly elevated. He looked fragile. Not the same physical specimen on the island. His head and shoulder were wrapped in bandages, and his left leg was elevated in an ankle-to-hip cast. Three plastic IV bottles were suspended from hangers. He had dark circles under his eyes.

Dain clicked off the television and smiled as he held out his hand. Drummond walked around the bed and sat down, taking Dain’s right hand in his.

“Sure been enjoying watching Bennett squirm on CNN.”

They both smiled.

“It’s good to see you,” both men said simultaneously.

“They drilled a hole in my cranium to relieve the pressure. My brain was swelling from the concussion. Be advised, M32 shells exploding seven feet from the body are hazardous to your health. Removed a bullet from my shoulder, and another one nearly shattered my left femur, and a third entered and exited through my hamstring.”

Dain pointed to his leg.

“The nurse changing my dressing admired my booty and gave me her phone number.”

Drummond had a flashback recounting the events of the final hour on the island. Seven dead, two surrendered.

“Dain, you saved our lives. Thank you.”

“Thank you, brother. The spare tank and regulator saved my life. I was able to stay submerged until I could reach the dock. Ya gotta love the sound of an A-10 Warthog.”

“So you remember everything?”

“Not everything. I remember being in the bunker when the explosions started…I remember the sting of saltwater when I dove into the water…I remember the glow of the light stick and swimming underneath the dock. I remember looking down from the helicopter after liftoff and seeing you come out of the water, just a dot.”

“Dain, I don’t have many close friends. What do you say to us keeping a relationship going, if that suits you?
I know how busy and successful you’ll become when you start your own PMC.”

“Me? You’ve been given the keys to the city, no doubt,” Dain said.

“It was a team effort,” Drummond said.

“Officer Dain, thank you for your bravery and service. Drummond told me all about your heroics,” President Cannon said as he walked across Dain’s room to shake his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. President…for keeping your word.”

115

C
hris Drummond followed Dr. Brewer, President Cannon, and the president’s entourage up the elevator to the ninth floor. “We’re taking a circuitous route,” President Cannon commented, but Brewer didn’t reply. They walked past nurses’ stations. The activities stopped when President Cannon appeared. He greeted everyone. It’s not every day the president of the United States shows up on your shift.

Drummond was daydreaming—thinking Dain’s participation in Donald’s Contest had righted a personal wrong. His dedication to country would be acknowledged now, and he was happy for Jack. He deserved it. For a moment Drummond thought about his own situation. The contest was over—mission accomplished. He hadn’t heard a word from Barbara. She didn’t answer his calls placed to her cell phone. He had no idea where she was, or if he would ever see her again. Barbara wanted a new start, without him. She would not change her mind. Who could blame her?

They approached the end of the hallway and turned left. Drummond saw two uniformed officers posted outside of room 906. Dr. Brewer stopped, and President Cannon hung back.

“It’s been seven days, but her progress is encouraging.” Drummond could see Dr. Brewer’s lips moving and hear words, but they weren’t registering in his mind. “She’s a fighter and one of the most kindhearted individuals I’ve ever met…always concerned about others. The greatest risk of organ transplantation is infection and rejection. We won’t know for a while, so temper your expectations.” Drummond stared into Dr. Brewer’s face, looking for clues.

“You can see her—go ahead—she’s your daughter.” Drummond walked into the room. The lights were off, but the natural light illuminated the room. Sarah was asleep, her hands cupped on her lap. A generous bouquet of balloons rustled from the movement of air caused by the door opening. A stuffed giraffe, her favorite animal, and a picture of Sarah sitting up in bed next to President Cannon and Barbara adorned the bookshelf. The president had autographed the picture in the margin of the frame.

Drummond walked to her bed and knelt down on his knees. He took Sarah’s left hand in his and bowed over her face. Tears of joy were streaming down his cheeks. He felt the warmth of her hand. He felt for her pulse—the steady beat, proof that she was alive. Drummond pushed back her hair so he could see her face. She was not hooked to a mechanical apparatus to help her breathe. Her respirations were normal—far different than his last memory of her, an image he hadn’t been able to push out of his mind. Sarah opened her eyes, focusing on Drummond’s face. She recognized him and smiled.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “God has given us, me, another chance.” She pushed the button on the hand control, causing the electric motor to incline the bed. “President Cannon told us what you did. What the team accomplished…remember my dream on the ferry?”

“I remember, honey.”

“Well, it came true. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Sarah. You did it.” He stood up and bent over to kiss her forehead.

“I love you, Sarah.”

Drummond could feel a hand on his back. He turned and met Barbara’s eyes. The resentment he saw before had vanished. Drummond searched her face for an explanation….grateful for the outcome.

“It’s a miracle. After we said our good-byes—you and Sarah, you and me—I went in to sit with Sarah. I wanted to be there when they took her off the breathing tube. That’s when we received the news. It happened breakneck, lining up a donor. We were flown to Baltimore, and they kept Sarah alive until the operation. They’ve treated us like diplomats, twenty-four hours, round the clock.”

President Cannon stuck his head in the door.

“Hello, Sarah—how’s my favorite patient today?”

“Well.”

“And you, Mr. President?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“Drummond, I’m expected back in Washington. There’s a car waiting to bring you back to Camp David when you’re ready. No hurry. You’re welcome to spend as much time as you want.”

President Cannon gave Barbara a hug.

Drummond gave President Cannon a bear hug. “How can I ever repay you?”

“You already have. Two miracles: Sarah and the work your team has done. We’re in your debt.”

Drummond walked out into the hallway with President Cannon to bid him farewell. Barbara came out of the room and pulled the door closed.

“Barbara, I’ll sign the papers, but I don’t intend to leave our daughter’s side.”

“We can work out a schedule,” Barbara said. “I’m going for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria so you two can catch up. She wants to hear about your adventure.” Barbara pecked Drummond on the cheek.

Drummond walked back into the room.

“Daddy, you’re different,” Sarah said.

“What do you mean, I’m different, honey?”

“Before, when we spent time together, which wasn’t often, you seemed distracted, like you were always searching. Now, you seem like you’re at peace—you can enjoy the moment.”

116

P
resident Cannon said, “President Jinfu called last night. We may become friends after all. His tone of voice was different. Before, it was tinged with condescension, like a buyer demanding concessions from a seller.”

Sebastian was staring at the rose carpet. The grin on his face widened.

“He asked me what I thought Congress and the super committee will do.”

“How did you respond?” Sebastian asked. He looked up to make eye contact with the president.

“I told him there’s a renewed sense of optimism.”

Cannon signed the remaining documents and placed them in a leather-bound folder. He set his pen down and pushed away from his desk and stood.

“I was shocked when Jinfu said Li Tong was with him and wished to speak with me. Tong came on the line and said they were enthusiastic about my proposal. Do you think the super committee will choose Drummond’s proposal and support direct investment by the Chinese?” Cannon asked.

“The threat of a stock IPO to reform the health care industry is looming. The question is whether Bennett wants Medicare to be reformed first. Either way, the train
has left the station,” Sebastian said. “Goldman Sachs and others will know within a couple of weeks what the appetite is for a stock subscription…If it looks solid, I can see a big push for an IPO, irrespective of Bennett’s decision. The super committee’s back is against the wall.

“Did you see your approval rating? Seventy-three percent—the highest for any postwar president. Congress’s approval rating is four percent—lowest in history. On the way home last night, I saw a bumper sticker that read ‘Impeach Congress.’ I took a picture with my iPhone and sent it to the
Washington Post
.” Sebastian was straight-faced. “While there’s a lull in the action, I’m going to take a few days and go fly fishing in Montana.”

“That’s great, John, you deserve it.”

“You should take a few days, Andy—recharge your batteries.”

“I scheduled some time. My plan is to do some reading at the White House library…maybe take a nap.”

Cannon and Sebastian embraced.