Political Pressure

24

Orville Flicker was afraid. Worse than that, he was nervous, and he was acting jittery, and that absolutely wouldn't do, especially tonight of all nights.

Flicker couldn't understand it. His White Hand had been doing its work for months, cleaning up the bureaucracy of the United States at every level, removing one despicable public servant after another from the government payrolls. There had never been a major hitch, not one, and subtle support was growing here and there across the nation. Everything was going exactly as planned.

Now, of all times, as the White Hand began its most important phase of operations and Flicker's political organization became a juggernaut, everything started going wrong. In just days there was catastrophe after catastrophe. The Midwest cell, wiped out at the Bryant assassination. The Continental Divide cell demolished, with only Boris Bernwick surviving and escaping— only to be found dismembered near the scene of the bombing of the drug-lord police chief.

Somebody knew a lot more than they should about the White Hand. The question was, how much did they know about the sponsors of the White Hand?

That was just one of a number of reasons why the big announcement should not happen tonight, but they didn't matter. The stage was set, the expectation level of the nation and the party had been primed to the perfect level. The announcement had to come now, tonight, without delay. Everybody was ready and waiting for the steamroller of events that had brought the MAEBE political party into existence to continue rolling, inexorably, flattening the competition.

Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the momentum that Flicker's carefully orchestrated series of "spontaneous" events had generated. MAEBE had to have unfaltering momentum. There could be no time for the individual parties in this eclectic mix of right- wingers to stop and discuss this course of events.

Discussion, contemplation, a true interchange of ideas—anything along those lines would bring this thundering herd to a dusty halt. If there was one lesson Flicker learned from years of politics, it was that discussion murdered progress.

MAEBE was born when a bunch of small, roly-poly snowballs got nudged into one another at just the right moment to create an avalanche, and if anybody slowed the avalanche it would simply crumble to pieces again.

Flicker had to keep the avalanche careening downhill. It had to be perfectly clear to every one of these minor campaigns that there was no time for negotiations. If they insisted on stopping and talking things over, they'd end up left behind, talking to themselves.

Today, the dramatic events that brought these various entities together to form MAEBE had to now be upstaged by anther dramatic event, and the event had to come now.

In one short hour, Orville Flicker would be raised up from comparative obscurity among the ranks of top MAEBE brass and, humble but determined, accept the nomination of his party as its candidate for President of the United States of America.

But Orville Flicker was frightened. He had never once shown discomfort in all his years as press secretary to the state governor who then became President. Even at the press conference after his firing by that -.same back-stabbing, narrow-minded President he showed nothing but self-control and iron resolve.

But all these past performances had been leading up to today, and in every public appearance he made from now on he had to be better than ever. So what to do about this stage fright?

What if exposing himself now was a fatal mistake? Somebody had come incredibly close to nabbing Flicker. He had been sitting inside that Victorian monstrosity in Topeka just hours before someone was there to intercept his White Hand cell charged with assassinating that adulterous swine Julius Serval.

The newspaper accounts were confusing. The reports Flicker received from his FBI sources were more credible and yet more unbelievable.

There was an angry pounding on the door and a sudden barrage of shouting. Ed Kriidelfisk shoved the door open and squirmed around Cleo, which was no small achievement.

"Flicker, you fucker!"

"Mr. Kriidelfisk!" Cleo snapped. "You will not use such language in this home."

"Go to hell," Kriidelfisk said. "You fucked up, Flicker."

"Mr. Kriidelfisk, this is your last warning!" Cleo Reubens exhorted, drawing back her heavy shoulder and making sledgehammers out of her meaty fists.

"Tell the linebacker to get the fuck out," Kriidelfisk growled.

"You're showing your ugly side, Mr. Kriidelfisk," Flicker said, mustering his cool.

"Tell the ugly old broad to get out now, or I press 7."

He held up his cell phone. The color display showed little tropical fishes swimming around in an aquarium.

Flicker felt his pores open up and his body temperature skyrocketed, but he showed only calm composure when he asked. "All right, Mr. Kriidelfisk, I'll bite. Who will you reach if you press seven?"

Kriidelfisk's lower lip curled over his chin. "CNN."

Orville Flicker stifled his hiss of indignation, and he had to force himself to nod.

"Mrs. Reubens," Flicker said finally, "please leave us."

Cleo Reubens left the office, closing the door behind her, hard.

The Flicker house was a large, contemporary home in a clubhouse development in Dallas. The home was huge, and most of Flicker's neighbors were large families with a well-planned social agenda. Flicker had turned most of the house into the headquarters for MAEBE, before MAEBE had its name. Mrs. Reubens had been his housekeeper and had begun handling bodyguard and secretarial duties when the need arose—like now, when Noah Kohd was out arranging the press conference. She was a good soul, and not to be underestimated. She didn't like poor behavior, and she had never known her employer, the good Mr. Flicker, to tolerate profanity in his household. Why he would do so now was beyond her understanding.

Orville Flicker dredged up a stall tactic from his early days and strolled to the wall, adjusting the air-conditioning to its lowest setting. The chill might make Kriidelfisk less comfortable and ease some of Flicker's unbecoming perspiration.

Kriidelfisk wasn't going to allow him the dignity of a thoughtful silence.

"What the fuck happened, Flicker?"

"I'm trying to find out myself."

"You fucked me over! I'm out!"

"Not necessarily, Ed."

"Not necessarily? Serval gives this speech this morning that makes him look like a hero and a victim all at the same time! He feels so sorry for Ms. Jomarca, and he'll sponsor a gambling addiction support bill in her name when he's reelected! No mention of the cheerleader, says the gunman were all hired by Jomarca. His popularity ratings have gone up ten points since the morning news, and the worst part is they aren't even mentioning my name! I don't even exist! I thought you were supposed to be some sort of a political whiz kid, Orville. You mean to tell me you're so out of touch you can't tell I'm fucked?"

Flicker nodded, trying to come up with an angle to spin this on. He had not expected Kriidelfisk to show up at his house, and now he knew why he had not been able to reach the MAEBE candidate at home all morning. Flicker's prepared appeasement deal was clearly inadequate now, but what was the right way to go? What was the right message to give a mutineer? Should he reward the man for his insubordination and threats of extortion? Or should he...?

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Flicker, you idiot?"

Orville Flicker smiled. It was the confident smile again. He had just decided the perfect way to handle this backstabbing, foulmouthed Benedict Arnold.

"Mr. Edward Kriidelfisk, you are a man of deep convictions."

"I don't need your crap, Flicker."

"But you do need a job, Mr. Kriidelfisk, and in fifty minutes I'm beginning my campaign for the presidency."

Kriidelfisk waited to see where this was headed.

"I need a vice president, Mr. Kriidelfisk."

The independent politician from Kansas chewed on that. He said cautiously, "Are you saying you want me to be your running mate?"

"We had planned to hold off on declaring a vice presidential nominee. We didn't want it to look as if we planned it. But the series of events of the past twenty- four hours were pure happenstance in the eyes of the public. You're the right man who came along at the right time, through the quirks of fate."

Kriidelfisk nodded, a new light gleaming in his eyes. "Yeah. It's perfect."

"Will you take the job?"

"Yes, certainly, Mr. Flicker!" Kriidelfisk said, re- learning his manners in an instant. "I'll be honored to stand at your side."

"There is no better man for this role, Mr. Kriidelfisk," Flicker said, standing up smoothly. They shook hands formally.

"Thank you, sir."

Flicker checked his watch. "We're short on time. Let's get you to wardrobe."