Chapter 21

Chapter 21—The Group makes its

first decision

10:21 a.m., Thursday, December 15

Allison opened with her first directive, "As I said, the meetings will be no longer than one hour in length. And there will be no more than four of them. If we find we can’t get done what we need to get done under those constraints, that would indicate a lack of consensus, then we’ll simply dissolve the group. Unless we are on the same page, unless we all view the problem in a similar fashion, it wouldn’t matter how many meetings we held, or how long they were."

The four men had heard all this before. When Allison originally approached them individually, she had made this clear.

"All of you probably already know why we are having these meetings. But just in case you’re not sure about it, I’ll tell you."

She was on a roll, and the guys knew it. There would be no interruptions.

"Virtually every contested seat in the House went south—we lost them all. Same is likely to happen in the Senate next election. It seems likely that whatever we did not lose in the mid-term, will be lost in the presidential. Unless things change—and I mean radically change. This guy is about to run the country into the ground, and the people know it. They don’t believe a word he says, and he can’t sell anything. … That is, even if he had something to sell."

"Do you size him up as a one-termer?" Steve asked. Everyone knew that was a question that did not need asking. Steve was simply tossing Allison some raw meat.

"Definitely. And if the Republicans put up a strong candidate, and even if I were the nominee, I might not beat him, or her. The direction we’re going, and the speed we’re traveling, who knows what will be left in two years. If they take control of both houses, and the White House, they will consider it a mandate, and overturn all the gains we have made over the past twenty-five years."

"What are you looking for from us?" Jerry asked.

"Next week we’re going to have our second meeting. I will contact each of you separately to let you know the exact time and place. In the meantime, I want each of you to be thinking of different approaches we might consider. Brainstorm it. But, as I said before, do not commit anything to writing—not in any form. Do not record anything. Just think it through, and be prepared to talk about it."

"Are we going to continue meeting in this truck?" Jerry asked. "Because, if we are, I think we ought to put it in some mud and see how it does. I’ve always wanted to see an Escalade covered so thick that you can’t read the plate."

"I’ll let you know what to expect," Allison replied, almost cracking a smile. She respected the intellect and creativity of each member of the group. But she really liked only Jerry and James. She had learned to tolerate Reginald and Steve during her years as First Lady. Bob leaned heavily on Steve for public relations. Bob believed that Steve could put a happy face on a dead pig. It just seemed as though Steve had a unique gift for viewing everything through the eyes of the public, and always knew just how to spin an issue.

Still, Allison knew that Bob did not really like Steve very much either. In fact, in private (and sometimes among friends) Bob referred to Steve as "My Little Gay Buddy." That is where Reginald got the notion the Steve was gay. And Reginald was more than a little homophobic.

Even though Allison knew that there was no one better at what he did than Steve, like her husband, she only forced herself to tolerate him. But she did trust his loyalty. The element that kept Steve loyal to Bob and Allison was not his character. He was loyal to them because he was scared of them. He knew, as did all those who ever worked closely with the couple, that to cross them in any fashion was to commit suicide—figuratively at least, if not always literally.

And this time, and these meetings, were as heavy as any of these men had experienced. They knew that Allison was stone cold serious, and that they had better not only obey her every word, but her every wish as well.

As far as Reginald was concerned, Allison did not really dislike him. She trusted him implicitly, and she greatly respected his judgment. But he had too many hang-ups for her liking. For instance, Reginald would frequently excuse himself from a meeting, ostensibly to use the rest room. But she knew that all he was going to do was wash his hands. He washed them so many times during the day that he constantly had to squeeze on some hand lotion. That bugged her—not only was she irritated by the constant interruptions, she hated the smell. The hand lotion that he used came in a pink tube, and smelled like cheap perfume. She even gave him a box of lotions that she thought more masculine, but he never used them. When she asked why, he told her that they all irritated his skin.

However, Reginald was not a member of the group because of his soft hands. He was the master of dirty tricks. He was totally ruthless—perhaps brilliantly so.

Others might choose the target, and determine the appropriate level of punishment. But when it came to facilitating retribution, it was always left to Reginald.

Even though Allison loved what Reginald was capable of doing, she still found it hard to like him.

No, Allison liked only James and Jerry. Of course, it helped that both of them went out of their way never to offend her.

After only twenty minutes into it, Allison was satisfied that the meeting was over. The brain trust she had assembled needed no nursing. They were all big boys, and she knew that when they got together the next time, each of them would bring their particular talents to bear on the problem. Her only goal for this first meeting was to make sure they were all agreed as to what the problem was, and were prepared to attack it.

"We’re finished. I’ll be in touch with each of you and give you the specifics for our next meeting. James, drop Reg off so he can catch a cab, then take care of the other two."

With that, Allison got out of the Escalade, and left by herself. No more was said—the first meeting was over. As soon as Allison got out, Reginald did as well. Opening the front passenger door, he said, "hope you don’t mind my sitting up here with you, James. I need a little room to stretch out."

"Not a problem," James replied, as he entered traffic on his way to dropping off the rest of the group.

As he did, a black Ford Expedition with very tinted windows pulled out behind them, and followed them at a safe distance.