George H.W. Bush Sr. was old…older than Cheney, but his legacy was safe, as long as he was alive. Lately, he had to work harder than ever to keep it that way. “I’m fine Dick. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m hanging in there,” Cheney replied, “but I must admit, I am a bit concerned about the pop culture brewing in the White House.”
“Oh?” Bush slowly turned in his chair to face Cheney. “It seems to me that we have that bud nipped. What are you worried about?”
Cheney gathered his thoughts. He had always gotten along swimmingly with Poppy, a constant business partner and mentor, but momentarily realizing he was speaking with “the master,” (as Bush is referred to within the espionage community) sometimes it was unsettling. “I’m concerned about ‘our man’ in the White House being a possible Manchurian candidate,” Cheney admitted. “I don’t want to be paranoid, but it seems as if he is susceptible to public opinion that we don’t want.”
Bush glanced at the floor and thought for a moment. “Did you happen to catch the documentary ‘Dreams of My Real Father’?”
Cheney looked perplexed. “No, I figured it was more propaganda to hurt his chances of winning a second term…it didn’t matter anyways.”
Bush stared at Cheney. “We’ve known since the first election that his real father is the deceased Frank Marshall Davis, that commie organizer from Chicago. We were able to get a DNA analysis from an independent source.”
Cheney looked awed. “Is that what we’ve ‘got’ on the President? This whole time we’ve been saving it?”
“There is some stickiness involved,” admitted Bush. “At first, we thought we had the ultimate trump card. He obeyed orders and kept away from ‘that which shall not be named,’ but a short while ago, he gained some intel that should not have been obtainable.”
Cheney thought for second, “are you still worried about ‘the big event’?”
“Yes…and no.” Bush paused. “The President’s grand father, Stanley Dunham, was CIA and a trusted member of ‘the company’. However, we didn’t realize how deep his affections could run for his kin compared to our allegiances. We thought he hid the president’s paternity for personal gain and consideration for the CIA. It turns out, he respected this commie and had a sit down with him and his child right after MLK and RFK were assassinated. He spilled the beans intentionally, and ever since, our president has realized he has a double identity.”
“Holy shit!” Cheney was stunned. “The president’s granpa was CIA, and his dad was a commie. No wonder he’s such a moderate. Well, can’t we get him on perjury for stating his dad was that Kenyan?”
“We can,” started Bush, “but the problem is, what will the CIA do?”
“What do you mean?” asked Cheney. “I thought the CIA held you with the utmost importance.”
“That’s the conundrum,” Bush said. “I’ve been able to keep myself protected for decades…but this anomaly makes me hesitant to play out the same strategy. Some in the CIA may consider his story not only newsworthy, they might actually empathize with it.”
“So you understand why I’m concerned?” asked Cheney.
“Of course, but remaining status quo has sufficed so far, and so far, that’s all I’m willing to agree to.”
Cheney stifled the impulse to freak out. “I see. Well, can you tell me any good news or possibilities I should investigate?”
Bush considered the question. “Sure. Keep your eyes peeled for our President’s lack of fascination with Julian Assange and Bradley Manning. There is a clear and present danger that our leader does not consider them the threat that they are. That could be the link we need.”
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