“Howdy, Mr. President,” said the elder Bush.
“Howdy to you sir. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I’m also quite curious about this secret meeting with you. I don’t get invited to many of those anymore.”
“Well thank you for indulging me,” replied the President. “How’s Barbara?”
“She stands by her man after all these years…and she’s still gorgeous.”
The president smiled. “Glad to hear it sir. Do you have a secure location for me to pick your brain?”
“Sure son.” Bush turned to his men, “why don’t you boys catch up with your brothers, and let us talk for a bit.” The two guards looked at each other and then at the President’s men, not budging. “I’m not asking fellas.”
“Hang here guys,” said the President. “I need some time with the man.” He motioned toward the wheelchair handlebars, “shall I?”
“No, I got it.” Bush stood up and led the President into his house. “I’ve been sitting around all day, I could use some exercise.”
“I read about the gay wedding you attended,” remarked the President. “That was intriguing and heart-warming.”
“I don’t need to worry about constituents anymore…especially the fundamentals. I never felt particularly close to them anyways.” They continued down a long hall full of pictures, Bush with Reagan, Bush with Hoover, Bush with the Pope, Bush with Michael Jackson. They rounded a corner into an oak furnished den. Bush’s presidential portrait was framed above his desk. He relaxed in a big leather chair and invited the President to sit across from him.
“Oh, before we begin, I brought a gift.” The President opened a small box full of official looking medical packages. “These are the latest vaccination immune boosters the FDA will be releasing this winter. They’re fresh off the presses, and word on the street is there are some nasty viruses coming out soon. I haven’t done mine yet, and I thought we could do a…toast of sorts.”
Bush stared at him without blinking, then cracked a smile. “To what do I owe your consideration?”
“I know you’re a fan of the latest medical breakthroughs, so I thought we could have a truce and talk turkey.” He took one, tore the plastic cover, popped off the protective cap and stuck it in his arm. He offered the box to Bush.
Bush’s brow furrowed a bit, but he shrugged it off and picked a package. After he had injected himself, he said, “Salud. Now tell me what’s on your mind son.”
The President relaxed into his chair and thought for a moment. After a deep breath he said, “I’m really having a difficult time with your old associates in Washington. I respect them because I believe it’s the right thing to do, but they don’t respect me. I’ve been making deals with them since I was elected, and although I’ve held my end of the bargain, they’ve reneged on every one.”
Bush chuckled, “well, you’re in the big leagues now. Did you think it would get any easier?”
“No…but I was hoping there was a way to unite us instead of continuing this endless divisiveness. I’ve been impressed with your own personal unfolding at this stage in life, and I thought out of anyone the GOP does respect, you might have some tips on how to…communicate with them.”
Bush rolled his eyes, “Son, they think you’re lower than dachshund dick. They made an agreement to never work with you, lest it deify you in the eyes of the people. They don’t trust you, and they don’t believe it’s possible to maintain power with you around, so they will use any means necessary to whoop your ass in the court of public opinion. Between that and your catty Democrat ‘friends’ who talk about you behind your back, I don’t think you have many real allegiances.” He felt great to be this candid on a matter of such importance. Hell, the kid wanted his honesty.
“Does this go back to Kennedy?” asked the President. “Is this just residue from bad blood that’s never been forgiven?”
Bush’s eyes glazed over. “Jack was his own worst enemy. He really thought he could have his cake and eat it too. He thought he could destroy the CIA while sleeping with some of their wives. He thought he could take mafia money and then sick his brother on them after he was elected. He thought he could castrate the FED to stop them from raping the system…he thought he was the king of Camelot…a valiant Arthur, righting the wrongs of the system to win the hearts of the people…but we showed him.” God I feel good, he thought.
The President prodded, “I heard you were on the scene in Dallas cleaning up the aftermath.”
“I was ordered to help any of our guys who might’ve been picked up by the local police who weren’t aware of the operation. The amazing thing is, we got away with it clean. It’s still considered to be the most effective assassination since Caesar. I can’t say I agree with it in principle, but by God, that narcissist had it coming…it is what it is…by the way, what else was in that injection?”
“It’s a cocktail of vaccine and vitamin B12 that some feel has a bit of a euphoric kick,” the President responded.
“I’ll say.” One of Bush’s eyes started to go lazy, and he sighed. “Jack was getting cocktails of codeine, Demerol, methadone, Ritalin, meprobamate, librium, barbiturates, thyroid hormone, and injections of gamma globulin. He was juiced to the gills before doctors even knew what that stuff could do to the human brain. His people said he was in constant pain, but he was definitely flying high. It’s bad for business to be that compromised.”
“Well, you certainly had your fair share of close calls Poppy,” remarked the President.
“That’s part of being in ‘the shit’,” Bush continued. “There is so much money to be made in government, but if you stick to the conventional routes, it’s totally limited.”
“Is 9-11 still the biggest take on record?”
“Son,” Bush revved up, “9-11 was the most profound operation ever pulled off in the history of humanity. It was inconceivable before then, but once we had the right architects in place, it went down exactly as planned. ONI manned the drones…they were playing war games that week, so it just came down to fooling the operatives into thinking they were in a simulation exercise. We thanked Orson Scott Card for writing Ender’s Game…it was a genius idea we mimicked. Once Cheney was able to commandeer NORAD, it was easy to make a mess of who was supposed to be in charge and what orders were actually given. Our boys in the banks had fair warning to make money off the Stock Market plunge, and that bunker buster destroyed all the evidence they had at the Pentagon.”
“Is it true that they even hit the towers in the exact floors where the people who were taking you to trial met with their evidence that morning?” the President asked.
Bush beamed. “That was a gift to me for staying loyal to ‘the Company’, but you know all this Junior…wait a minute,” Bush looked scared suddenly. “You’re not Junior.”
“No Mr. President,” said the President warmly, “but you’re just confirming everything I’ve been told already. Your secrets are safe with me. I’m only trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between me and your people.”
Bush relaxed a little, but still looked unnerved. “Well, I better be getting to bed. Barbara will be missing me if I stay up past bedtime. Night, night Junior. Tell Laura we love her…”
The President made his way back outside. The Secret Service were waiting at the front door. Bush’s men departed to the house to lock up. As the President walked back along the lawn to the helicopter, SS#1 ambled up close.
“Sir, was the operation successful?”
“It was,” replied the President. “He told me everything I needed to know.”
“How did you get him to take the Sodium Pentothal?”
The President smiled. “I told him it was the latest vaccine.”
“He believed you?”
“I did one first.”
SS#1 paused, “How did you know which needle wasn’t doped?”
The President kept smiling, “I didn’t.”
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