Chapter Twelve

“Mark my words. It will not be six months before the world tests him like they did John Kennedy. We're about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America. Remember I said it standing here, if you don't remember anything else I said. Watch, we're gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.”
–Joe Biden, October 20, 2008

“Well, even though he made it look like a piece of cake, we got our money.” Rockefeller locked his hands behind his head and laid back in a leather recliner. “I gotta admit, I didn’t know if he would play ball or try to get ‘The People’ to rise up against us.”

Cheney grimaced. “He knew what was best for him. At least he’s not impulsive. We would’ve pulled out the big guns if he went rogue. Even he’s got dirt the public would find…distasteful.”

“For all the ‘hopey-changey’ liberals out there, the old racket still works.” Rockefeller smiled. “Thank God we were able to get all the laws changed in time to drop the bottom out of the market within his first month of office. Biden had the gall to compare him to Kennedy. He’s no Kennedy, this president knows his place.”

“Are we sure of that?” Cheney looked up beneath a frowning brow. “I get these premonitions of danger that almost lead to panic attacks. I’m still concerned that it isn’t yet safe.”

Rockefeller leaned forward and slapped him on the back. “Cheer up Dick! The duty you did for your country will be remembered, respected and protected by the right people for the rest of your life. I know you didn’t even think it was possible in the beginning, but this is peanuts compared to what you pulled off. He’s a lawyer, he knows better than to challenge us now.”

“How can we be sure?”

“In your entire lifetime, you’ve seen us win it all…everything…even when we didn’t know what we were doing half the time. We figured it out, whatever it took. That same logic applies now. No matter what anyone thinks they can do about it, we will win.”

Cheney let loose a long labored breath. “I don’t trust him. He has the feel of a martyr waiting for the right time to make penance.”

“Then we will use his martyrdom at the right time…or we’ll induce it.” Rockefeller winked. “Come on man, you’re the glue who held the ship together during ‘the greatest hoax ever pulled on the American people.’ Don’t tell me you’re getting spooked now.”

“There are new precedents in motion that are unsettling. Bradley Manning is being compared to Nelson Mandela. Julian Assange is getting a tv show.”

“On Russia Today right?” Rockefeller laughed. “Who’s going to believe RT propaganda? Putin’s compromised. Don’t give up on American pride, it’s kept us afloat since the beginning of our lives. Mom, apple pie, guns and butter…the GOP may be toxic, but the American flag isn’t.”

“Anonymous is gathering more and more members everyday.”

“I thought the FBI was running their ‘honey pot’ strategy with them like Al-Qaeda,” said Rockefeller. “It’s not working?”

“The problem is…hackers are not poor, broke and brown. They are often white, male and upper class. They also don’t have the sense of urgency that potential terrorists bring with them.”

“Hackers aren’t terrorists?” asked Rockefeller. “Isn’t that just a matter of changing some more laws?”

“Oh, they’ve been introduced,” said Cheney, “but they don’t carry the same fear that hash-eating, tower-toppling assassins bring to the minds of regular Americans.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to change that.”