The Last Election (25 page)

“Without a doubt,” replied Martineau. “Detroit has definitely been removed from my list of vacation destinations for a while.”

Clark laughed at Martineau’s comment. He then turned to Mason and asked, “What do you have for me, Brett?”

Mason walked over to the television, picked up the remote, and hit the power button. “Sir, you need to start watching DMBC. They keep making special announcements saying that they have uncovered shocking new information about the Detroit riots. They are really hyping it up. They say they are going to go live with a special report at six o’clock.”

Clark looked at Martineau for a moment, then back to Mason. “Thank you Brett, I look forward to watching it.”

Chapter 62

Governor Clark was not the only one eager to watch the upcoming report. President Bonsam was caught completely off guard by DMBC’s announcements and he too wanted to know what was in the report. He immediately contacted Agent Dolan in the Communications Office. “Have you heard from Delgado yet?” he asked with anger in his voice.

“No, sir,” replied Dolan. “I have two teams of agents scouring Detroit, but so far they have been unable to locate him.”

“Damn him!” shouted Bonsam. “Listen Dolan, get in touch with Darius Robinson and find out what the hell is going on!”

By 5:30 Dolan still had not reported back. “What is taking him so long?” Bonsam said to himself as he paced around the Oval Office. He could feel his temperature rising with every passing minute, and with it he felt the demons in the back of his mind waiting to attack. He lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. “I need to stay in control!” he said as he watched DMBC announce yet again that the special report was only minutes away.

By the time the phone rang at 5:55, Bonsam was furious. “What the hell took you so long, Dolan?” he screamed. “Where is Robinson?”

“Mr. President, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Dolan replied nervously. “Robinson has been taken into custody by the FBI.”

Suddenly, every nightmare Bonsam had ever dreamt struck his mind like bolts of lightning. He experienced his own private hell for less than a second, and then his mind became perfectly clear. He felt an incredible surge of power flowing through his veins. He glared at the television, knowing that whatever was reported would not affect him.
After all, I am Emmanuel Bonsam. No one can touch me
. “Stay on the line,” he said to Agent Dolan as he placed the phone call on hold.

At the DMBC studio, Marty Schoenberg was going over his notes one last time. The speech he was about to give would either make him or break him, there was no in between. He looked over at Dean Reaves, who was getting one last blast of hair spray before they went live. Reaves had been fuming all afternoon, knowing that Darius Robinson had made a chump out of him. He was going to hit Robinson back and hit him hard. He brushed away the makeup artist and turned to Schoenberg. “We’re live in 30 seconds, Marty,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks, Dean,” he replied confidently, even though his stomach was in knots.
 

Schoenberg took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, going over his speech one last time in his mind. He heard the set director call out, “Cue the music,” and ten seconds later they were live.

“Good evening, I’m Dean Reaves, and this is DMBC. Tonight, we have an exclusive report of unbelievable treachery that occurred during the Detroit riots. Shocking new evidence has come to light revealing a well-organized group of conspirators conducted covert operations to incite and exacerbate racial violence on the night of the riots. Here with me now is the Executive President of DMBC, Martin Schoenberg, with more on this chilling tale.”

The camera panned back, showing Schoenberg seated at the news desk beside Reaves. Reaves turned to Schoenberg and said with pretended sincerity, “Mr. Schoenberg, welcome to tonight’s program. I know that the information you are about to share with our loyal viewers must be extremely difficult for you to report.” The camera then focused solely on Schoenberg, removing Reaves from view.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. As Dean just announced, a nefarious plot to stir racial violence throughout Detroit during the riots has been uncovered by FBI investigators,” said Schoenberg. He knew the eyes of the entire nation were upon him at this time, and he was determined to break the news of DMBC employees’ involvement in the plot with conviction.

While Schoenberg paused to compose himself before continuing, Reaves was off camera pointing at the acting newscast producer with one hand while making the slit-your-throat signal with the other. The producer shook his head vigorously to show Reaves that he completely understood the signal.
 

“The FBI has even implicated employees of the Detroit Metro Broadcasting Channel in this plot,” Schoenberg continued, knowing there was no turning back now. “Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you that those implicated by no means reflect the professionalism and dedication of the DMBC family. We are committed to assisting the FBI in bringing anyone involved in this plot to justice, especially anyone with ties to DMBC. I give you my solemn promise that DMBC will strive to continue bringing you the best news service possible. Thank you.”

The camera pulled back to expose both Reaves and Schoenberg together. “Mr. Schoenberg, I must say that what you are doing is truly noble, and we here at DMBC offer you our full support.”

Schoenberg smiled for the first time all day and replied, “Thank you, Dean.”

As the camera switched to a close up of Reaves, Reaves gave one more glance to the acting producer. He then went off script, and started announcing the news that Schoenberg had forbade him to announce. “One of those implicated in these horrific crimes is Darius Robinson, newscast producer for DMBC,” said Reaves in a deeply serious tone, his eyes glaring into the camera.

Schoenberg looked at the monitor in disbelief as a picture of Darius Robinson was splashed across the screen, with a DMBC logo prominently displayed in the lower right corner. He glared at the acting producer, who stood motionless behind the five-second delay button.
What is wrong with that schmuck?
Schoenberg motioned to him to hit it by pounding the desk three times with the palm of his hand, but the producer merely looked around like he was lost. Schoenberg could not understand why he was taking so long, but then again Schoenberg was unaware that Reaves had threatened the acting producer with castration should he even breathe on the button.
  

President Bonsam listened as Reaves gave a complete biographical rundown of Mr. Darius Robinson and his career with DMBC. With a picture of Robinson on the screen above his right shoulder, Reaves then went on to rehash the fact that Robinson had been taken into custody by the FBI and accused of participating in the riot plot.

Bonsam looked at the screen and said, “Humph. Robinson can kiss his family good bye.” He then picked the phone back up, hit the hold button again, and said to Agent Dolan, “The Robinson family, take them out.”

Chapter 63

The Bonsam political spin machine had kicked into overdrive following the DMBC announcement of the Robinson controversy. Every national news network picked up on the riot conspiracy and ran with it. The White House had been flooded by media requests throughout the night and into the next day, but Press Secretary Stratton turned them all away.

Bonsam had directed VP Holden to meet with him in the Oval Office first thing the next morning to discuss the DMBC announcement. “Mike, we need to come up with a plan to address this situation,” said Bonsam calmly as he rocked slightly in his desk chair. “I need to make a strong, clear statement that the White House is doing everything it can to assist the FBI in its investigation into the riots.”

Holden had to agree. He was pleasantly surprised that Bonsam was thinking about something other than himself. “You’re right, Mr. President. With the election only three days away, it is now more important than ever that we show that this administration is committed to its promise to uphold the laws of this land and bring to justice anyone who threatens the safety of the American citizens.”

Bonsam wasn’t listening. “I mean it’s not like the FBI can connect any of this to me,” he said contemptuously. “I was nearly assassinated by the KKK! Why is the media giving so much attention to this petty violence when the horrendous crime was the attempt on my life? The deaths of pathetic rioters are inconsequential in comparison to the murder of the President of the United States!”

Holden thought he had heard it all, but Bonsam had an uncanny way of coming up with something more outlandish every time they met. “Mr. President, I don’t mean to belittle the fact that you were almost assassinated,” replied Holden, while having a hard time saying the word ‘fact.’ “But we must stand strong and show America that we will not back down in the face of adversity. That’s what will get you reelected, Mr. President.”

Bonsam still wasn’t listening. “This was Clark’s doing! It was in his state. He was conveniently on an island 300 hundred miles away from Detroit when I was nearly assassinated, wasn’t he? Don’t you see it, Mike? Michigan is crawling with KKK yet Clark turned a blind eye to the white supremacists when he became governor. And as soon as I mentioned that hate mongers were out to destroy us, they tried to kill me. Clark should be held responsible!”

Holden could take it no more. “Mr. President, you cannot go on like this! The election is almost here and you and I both know that Clark is ahead in the polls. To publicly attack Clark now would make you look desperate. Your appearance on
Meet the Press
tomorrow is your last major appearance before the election. You cannot go in there and start bashing Clark. You have to promote your accomplishments.” Holden couldn’t believe he had just said that, but he needed to get Bonsam’s mind back on the political track. “You have to talk about your plans for your second term, in which you will continue to support legislation that is for the good of the people.”

Bonsam could not be reasoned with. “He blew up the Marriott Hotel. I had just been there that morning. He wanted to kill me then!”

“Sir, you have got to pull yourself together!” Holden knew that the second those words had left his mouth he had crossed the line with Bonsam.

Bonsam’s eyes narrowed. “That will be all, Mike.”

Holden got up and marched directly to the door of the office. In his frustration he flung the door open and then slammed it shut hard behind him. The Secret Service agents at their post outside the office door were caught off guard as Holden stormed out of the office. They had never seen him angry before.

Inside the office, Bonsam let out a shout of anger and with one broad swipe knocked everything from the surface of his desk onto the floor. He would no longer hold back the maelstrom of hateful rage that swirled in the back of his mind. He now welcomed it.

He turned quickly and looked out the window behind him, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth as a powerful rush of heat flowed through the core of his body. The visions of flames slammed into his consciousness. Bonsam felt as though he were having an out-of-body experience as he floated away from the White House, slowly at first, then at a speed so fast that everything around him became a blur.
 
In an instant he was standing between two towering mountain ranges that stretched out before him, the mountains themselves aflame. The heat scorched his skin and the wicked stench of burning sulfur permeated the air until his nostrils burned painfully. Within the inferno he heard the agonizing screams of millions as they cried out in horrific pain.
 

The two Secret Service agents who had witnessed Holden’s abrupt exit stepped into the Oval Office and found Bonsam standing in front of the window behind his desk. To the agents it appeared as if the president was staring into the Rose Garden, but in Bonsam’s mind, he was staring into the gates of hell.
 

Chapter 64

President Bonsam’s limo rushed through the streets of the capital as it headed toward NBC Studios. Bonsam sat alone watching Samuel Clark being interviewed on Fox News Sunday. His temperature rose as he listened to Clark express his views about the state of the nation’s economy and his ideas for promoting economic growth.
What is wrong with my people? Can’t they see that Clark is being deceptive? He will destroy America!