Drain the Swamp

Chapter 1: 1. Coffee with a Senator


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Allie sighed as she peered around the cash register. As usual, the line stretched nearly out the door, filled with sharply dressed men and women staring at their phones. What was it with D.C. people and coffee? Even at 7 PM, the place was absolutely packed. She sighed again, and called out, “next!” drawing the attention of the man standing at the front of the line. 

With a start, she recognized the man; how could she not, he’d been her first campaign, the person who had (briefly) made her the most sought-after operative in the country. But surely he wouldn’t recognize her, not after… no matter, she needed to play it cool.

“Good morning sir,” she said, doing her best to sound casual, “what can I get for you?”  

“Uhh, sorry, I’ll have a large Americana,” phew! He didn’t recognize her after all, what a- “and a chat with you, Allison. You haven’t been answering your phone.” Shit.

Allie winced, and looked up at the man sheepishly. “Oh, Senator Stern,” she said lamely, “I-I didn’t recognize you. And, um, that’s gonna be four sixty-eight.”

He tapped his card on the reader, and then looked at her expectantly, cocking one eyebrow as if to ask ‘and the other thing?’ Goddammit, he always was persistent and it seemed like nothing had changed. “You’re order number fifty-eight,” she said, defeated. There was no way to get out of this, was there? “I’ll be off in fifteen minutes, we can talk then.”

“Lovely!” Stern said, grinning at her roguishly. He sauntered over to a seat near the windows and sat down, pulling out his phone. Allie looked away and sighed, returning her attention to the customers in line. This Tuesday night was not going to go as expected.

The shop stayed busy right up until Allie got off, when, of course, it immediately became absolutely dead. Typical. She took her time changing out of her work clothes, dreading the coming conversation. How long had it been? Two, maybe three years since she’d spoken to anyone from before. To be fair, it mostly hadn’t been her choice; a lot of people she’d been good friends with had dropped her like a live grenade back then. She’d just about cut off contact with the rest, because who wants to be around a national embarrassment? 

With yet another deep sigh, she opened the door, knowing that she couldn’t hide forever. Allie walked to where Stern was sitting and sank into the seat across from him, fixing her eyes intently on the street outside. From the corner of her eye, Allie saw Stern put down his phone and look at her intently.

After a brief pause, he said, “You look different, Harrison.” 

That was probably the understatement of the century. Allie looked back, stared him dead in the eyes and retorted, “so do you, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. Well actually, now that I think about it, it must be the Prada, Mr. Senator. I can smell the sulfur from here.”

“That’s big talk from someone who got so many of us elected. As I recall, you charged my campaign for a whole lot of private cars. ”

Allie snorted, “you know as well as I do that that nonsense was for other people, I can’t stand driving, or being driven for that matter. I’m too old for a chauffeur.”

Stern chuckled, “It’s good to see that your sense of humor survived intact, I hope it’s not the only thing.”

“Trying to get me back in the game, are we? You know as well as I do that I’m about as welcome on the Hill as a bullet to the head, Mr. Senator.” Allie was feeling snarky, she didn’t understand why he felt the need to come here and taunt her like this; she’d already worn out every favor she could call looking for a job, and she doubted that he had anything that she hadn’t heard already. He knew that, too, which made it several degrees of magnitude more frustrating.

“Cut the crap Allie, you and I both know that you didn’t do it,” Stern said, a tinge of exhasperation entering his voice, “and stop calling me ‘Mr. Senator,’ we’ve known each other way too long for that.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Greg,” Allie said, which was enough cause for him to roll his eyes. “The internal probe found that-”

“That ‘internal probe’” he said, with exaggerated air quotes, “was so crooked it’s a wonder that anyone believed it, and my people have half a hunch that you were the one who set it up that way.” Now it was Allie’s turn to roll her eyes, “Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was lucky that she had a good poker face, because Stern was far closer to being correct than Allie was comfortable with.

Stern sighed again, seeming to accept defeat for the moment. “I don’t know why you’re still defending her.” Allie tried to appear entirely unattached, like she had no idea what he was talking about. It was no good, long-buried memories roiled under the surface anyways. “Either way, it’s time for you to come out of retirement, I’ve got a friend who wants you for a job.”

“Greg, there isn’t a soul in this country who wants me for anything other than making coffee and delivering food on a bike. I called all of our friends about a thousand times each, and wouldn’t you know it, every single one of them had an extremely polite excuse for why they had absolutely no need someone with my skillset. Unless you’ve dug up some dinky city council race in some godforsaken Alaskan village without access to the internet, there’s no chance that you’re being serious,” Allie finished, her tone having become more and more exasperated the longer she was talking. Why was he wasting her time?

“Well, for your information, it’s actually a mayoral race in Hooper, Utah, I-” he was cut off by the sound of Allie standing up abruptly and preparing to make a beeline for the door. She was done with him wasting her time.

“Hold on, hold on!” Stern exclaimed, holding out his hand in an appeasing gesture, “I was joking, Jesus Christ Allie! At least hear me out!”

Allie sat back down with a murmured apology. She’d gotten far too used to people pulling the rug out from under her, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Stern made a dismissive gesture, then leaned in and asked, “how familiar are you with Jon Mackenzie?”

“Isn’t he that crazy guy who won the Utah gubernatorial as an independent?” Allie asked, calling back her memories of his campaign, “He ran that campaign on a shoestring, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, something like that. Then the whole of the GOP out there spent every penny they had dethroning him last cycle. Half bankrupted themselves in the process, but they got the job done.” That sounded about right, she’d lived in Salt Lake for a while a few years back, and as she recalled, the Party’s word was law, direct from the mouth of God. Or maybe that was the Church?

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“What does he want with me, then,” Allie asked, “He’s already lost, and he’s got absolutely no chance in the next election. The state parties there aren’t gonna let the same thing happen twice.”

Stern sighed and looked down at the table, “you’re gonna think he’s crazy, and trust me when I say that I thought the same thing when he first got in touch.” He looked back up at her and said, “he wants the Presidency.”

Allie let out a short bark of laughter, “The one-term independent governor of Utah wants to be president? Not a chance, especially since he doesn’t have a party. It’s kinda hard to win if you’ve got nobody downstream of you, and it would be even harder to govern.”

“My words exactly, but the more I’ve talked with the man, the more I think he might be able to pull it off. He’s a hell of a speaker, and he’s got a decent plan.” Stern was speaking earnestly, the way he always had back when she’d brought all sorts of crazy ideas to him.

Still, she couldn’t help but laugh again. “So, you want me to be the next Ed Rollins? Jump on the next Ross Perot, or maybe the Wallace campaign, and ride the train into flaming glory at the bottom of the cliff?”

“It’s not quite like that, Allie. This guy’s gotta better case to make than either of them, and he’s got a hell of a lot more support within the Party.”

Allie shook her head. “Greg, be realistic! No matter how good his message is, he hasn’t got a chance! Every twenty or thirty years or so, some yahoo from who-knows-where gets it in their head that they’re going to be the first independent President since George freaking Washington.” 

“Well I think that’s a bit simplist-” Allie cut him off and said, “They run a brilliant campaign, and on election night everybody holds their breath because this could be the one. Then, everybody wakes up, the magical independent candidate wins ten percent of the popular vote, and Democrat McRepublican is the president-elect. Happens every time.”

“You’re oversimplifying, Allie, things are more complicated than that and you know it,” Stern said, seemingly surprised by her outburst. This was the Allie that he was used to, and she took a bit of getting used to after such a long break.

“Maybe I am, but does it really matter? If you run him this cycle, he’ll be a spoiler for the Democratic candidate. If you run him next time, he won’t get any traction. Either way, he’s never going to win,” Allie finished, surprised that he couldn’t see what was so obvious to her. What kind of politician can’t see a hopeless campaign when it’s right in front of their face?

“Somebody’s feeling cynical,” Stern said with a quick shake of his head. Allie rolled her eyes, he knew as well as she did that she was always cynical, especially when it came to campaigns. Stern seemed to sense her mood and said, “Look, I know I’m not gonna convince you, I was never any good at that, so why don’t you go home and have a look at some of MacKenzie’s stuff, and if you want,” he produced an airline ticket, “you can come and meet with the committee on Friday. If not, then at least use it to go visit Jenna.” He looked into her eyes, “as a favor to me, Allie. At least give the man a chance.”

Allie owed Stern more than she cared to admit, so she was bound to acquiesce. “I’ll have a look, but I’m not making any promises Greg.” She stood up and headed for the door, ready to go home. 

“What about your ticket?” Stern called out from behind her.

She turned to face him, smiling a bit as she remembered old times, “Come on, you know I hate flying. I’ll get a bus or something.”

She turned back and left the shop, stepping out into the muggy evening air. As the door closed, she barely caught Stern’s last words, “crazy bitch, I’m getting her a roomette.” She smiled again, and began her short walk to the metro station. Miraculously, it was running on time tonight, and before she knew it, Allie was rattling quietly towards home, staring at her phone. 

It didn’t take very long, just a few minutes on the train and a few more on the bus brought Allie to her apartment. It was an older place, situated in the already-decaying inner ring of the suburbs, but the rent was cheap and there was a store next door. Allie trudged up the metal stairs, unlocking her door just as the last rays of the sun were receding below the horizon. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her, and collapsed on the couch.

It had been four long years since her ‘early retirement,’ and three since she’d spoken to anyone seriously about getting another job. She’d  somewhat accepted the fact that she might never work again, that she would probably end up doing some service job or another until she was too old to work. And now, this. It was a lot to take in.

Allie paused her music and pulled up her browser app, deciding on a whim to see if Stern had any idea what he was talking about. The first video that popped up was short, only about a minute long; its title read ‘Utah Governor MacKenzie’s Speech at the Hinckley Institute, 03/22/24.”’ To Allie’s surprise, the video had just over three million views, a lot more than she had expected from such an obscure speech and venue.

She clicked the video, and the Governor began to speak. “Every politician in this country, left or right, seems to agree on one thing. They’ve made a pastime out of harping on and on about how polarized we all are, about how there’s some yawning gap between ‘blue America’ and ‘red America,’ or maybe ‘urban America’ and ‘rural America.’ They spend so much time talking about how much we all hate each other that they seem unable to get anything done. And the media, of course eats this up, because nothing sells papers like a fight.”

He paused briefly, surveying the auditorium, and continued, “The reality, of course, is very different. Every issue based poll shows that the vast majority of people in this country agree on the vast majority of topics; from managing the debt, to healthcare policy, the minimum wage, and even culture war issues like reproductive rights and racial discrimination. Despite what everyone loves to tell us, we all have far more in common than we have differences. Our leaders, and especially the media that they influence, has poisoned us against one another. Fox has turned its viewers into raging, snarling bigots, and The Washington Post has made it’s readers into lip curling, dismissive elitists with no conception of how anyone could hold a different view than them.”

“Now, that’s not to say the blame that should be laid on both sides is in any way equal- Fox has done more damage by far than any academic nonsense in the Post, but to forge a path forward, we need to recognize that at least some of the blame for the present situation lies with everyone. The Republicans have become a juggernaut of hatred towards everyone who does not fit their ideals to a T, and the Democrats have become a party of sycophantic cowards, unable to accomplish even the most basic tasks of governing. It’s a sad state of affairs, and one that will not be easy to remedy. But if we choose to embrace the ideals that all Americans strive for, we can become whole once again, and achieve the nation that America should be,” a short burst of applause followed before the video ended.

Allie was surprised, MacKenzie was better than she’d thought he’d be. She pulled up the next video, a longer one this time, to see if she could figure out what this guy was all about. After that one was finished, she moved to another, then another. In spite of herself, she found herself liking him, and his style. Oh dear.

Before Allie knew it, the time was four-thirty in the morning, and she sighed. It looked like she was going to get roped into this nonsense after all. She hit a few buttons on her phone, waiting for the ringing to end, then said, “Morning Greg, looks like I’ll need a ticket after all.”

She could almost hear his smirk through the phone as he said, “I fucking knew it. You owe me a drink.”

Allie rolled her eyes, some things never change.

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