The Last Election (26 page)

Carl Worthington, host of Fox News Sunday, switched topics quickly and asked Clark questions about the Bonsam assassination attempt. Clark was not about to be led down that rabbit hole, and politely declined to comment on the grounds that the investigation into the incident was still in progress. Worthington then pressed Clark for his opinion regarding the controversy surrounding the Detroit riots. He went so far as to show a previously recorded interview from DMBC with Danté Franklin, the young son of Joseph Franklin, Jr., the man who had been burned alive in his hardware store during the riots. Clark would not reveal his personal opinions and steadfastly stuck to the facts about the tragedy, and then told the audience that he would personally see to it that Danté received a college education.

Bonsam became enraged when he heard Clark pander to the sympathies of the voters.
He is evil!
It felt as though the limo was on fire. Sweat poured from his forehead, and his hands shook nervously. Suddenly, horrific visions of cities on fire filled his mind. He heard the agonizing cries of pain coming from people trapped within the flames. He could not make the visions go away. As the torment gripped his mind, his limo pulled into the parking lot of NBC Studios.

In the
Meet the Press
studio, host Lawrence Sevnik prepared for his exclusive interview with President Bonsam in a coolheaded manner. Sevnik was one of the rare newsmen who never let his personal bias show in his reporting, which made him one of the most respected members of the political press community. He was thrilled that he had been chosen to conduct the last major interview with the president before Tuesday’s election.
 

Bonsam had regained his composure by the time he took his seat across from Sevnik, yet Sevnik could sense that Bonsam was tense. “Welcome to the program, Mr. President,” said Sevnik.
 
He looked at the sling securing Bonsam’s arm and said, “We appreciate you appearing on today’s program so soon after the assassination attempt in Detroit.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here, Lawrence,” replied Bonsam. To the television audience, Bonsam looked as distinguished as ever, however, his mind was still seething with anger from watching Clark’s interview on Fox News Sunday.

Sevnik wasted no time with small talk and got right down to business. “Mr. President, unnamed sources within the FBI are reporting accusations linking members of your administration to individuals who were arrested for their involvement in instigating racial violence during the Detroit riots. How do you respond?”

Bonsam remained calm and collected.
 
“Lawrence, such accusations are preposterous. I won’t dignify them with a response.”
 

“But Mr. President,” Sevnik continued, “Darius Robinson, a man you have known your entire life, was taken into custody by the FBI on suspicion of being an accomplice in the murder of Joseph Franklin, Jr. He and four other employees of the Detroit Metro Broadcasting Company have been arrested and charged with a multitude of crimes, including the murders of Stanley and Lidia Kaczmarek.”

 
“What part of preposterous do you not understand, Lawrence!” yelled Bonsam. He was starting to feel hot again. Sevnik, however, remained in control.

“Robinson’s wife and children were found murdered the day after the riots, and now Robinson has disappeared. Are you saying your administration has no knowledge of either of these events?”

Bonsam’s behavior became erratic, and his speech was bordering on gibberish. “Clark is responsible for the riots!
 
They occurred in his state!” he roared. “He killed Senator Kirk and he tried to assassinate me! Clark is our enemy!” Bonsam’s arm had come out of the sling and he was now out of his chair, pointing Sevnik in the face as he chastised Sevnik’s insolence.

Sevnik remained emotionless as Bonsam continued to unravel in front of a nationwide audience. In his mind, Sevnik said a prayer of thanks. He then spoke to his sister in heaven and said, “This is for you, Lidia.”

Chapter 65

The presidential election of 2012 was over. Governor Samuel Clark won decisively, capturing the delegates of 42 states. America showed that it had had enough of the Bonsam regime. The recent scandals, including Bonsam’s belligerent outburst toward Lawrence Sevnik two days before the election, destroyed his credibility with the voters.

The media were euphoric in their coverage of President-elect Samuel Clark. Tonight their message was one of optimism, and they focused solely on the Clark victory and the impact that a new Republican administration would have on the government.

Spirits were high in the magnificent ballroom of the Lexington Lansing Hotel. Martineau had just finished giving Clark a big hug. She stepped back and looked at him with a big smile on her face, still holding onto his arms. She shook him back and forth, “You did it, Sam!”

“
We
did it!” Clark replied.

In the Oval Office, Vice President Holden was doing everything he could to calm down the president. Bonsam was pacing back and forth behind his desk as though he were a wild animal trapped in a cage. “I can’t believe this. My people would never do this to me!” said Bonsam, as his walking pace increased. His voice was trembling.

“Sir, it’s over,” said Holden. “Now is the time to be dignified and make your concession phone call to Sam Clark.”

“Clark!” Bonsam screamed. “This was all his doing! That racist had the help of the Klan. He manipulated the media and turned them against me. He stole the election from me! He wants to destroy my Providence!” Bonsam bolted through the office door and began running down the hallway.

Holden turned to the nearest Secret Service agent and commanded, “Get the entire West Wing Secret Service team down here, immediately!” and then dashed after President Bonsam.

Holden caught up to Bonsam just as he reached the Briefing Room door. “Mr. President, what are you doing?” he asked, but Bonsam ignored him and burst into the room.

The lead video technician was in the room winding up some cables when the president unexpectedly slammed through the doorway. He was so startled that he dropped the cables, then looked up and saw President Bonsam heading straight toward him. Bonsam grabbed the technician by the front of his shirt with both hands and lifted him up so his toes barely touched the ground. “Broadcast this immediately!” shrieked Bonsam. He dropped the technician and shoved him out of the way as he made his way to the podium.

By then Holden and a dozen Secret Service agents had arrived and they made their way into the Briefing Room. “Stand fast,” Holden said to the agents quietly.

The technician was making his way back to the camera booth. As he passed Holden, Holden said discreetly, “Film this, but do
not
broadcast it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Not after that,” replied the technician. He then took his place in the booth, put on his headphones, and motioned to the president that he was ready to go.

Bonsam nodded back to the technician. Bonsam’s heart was racing and his body temperature was rising. He could feel the anger inside him intensifying.

Using his fingers, the technician counted down, “Three, two, one,” and then pointed at the president.

   
“I do not accept the validity of this election!” Bonsam screamed into the microphone. “I am issuing an Executive Order, effective immediately, nullifying the results of this travesty!”

   
Bonsam grabbed the lectern and with all of his strength hurled it off the stage. He moved forward and jumped off the front of the stage to the floor. “Clark is our enemy! I am the one true leader!” he screamed.

Holden had seen enough. He patted the lead Secret Service agent on the back. The agent motioned to another agent and together they moved toward Bonsam.

Bonsam’s movements had become spasmodic and his eyes rolled back into his head. He lunged forward toward the camera, but the two agents stepped in front of him and each placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

Slowly his eyes rolled forward, and they were filled with fire. Bonsam glared into the camera and screamed, “This is the last election! Repent! Repent!”

   
Bonsam pushed forward and yelled out, “
Errrrrrraaaaaah
!” as he thrust his arms into the air, sending both agents back a step. He reared his arm back then delivered a powerful blow to the lead agent’s mouth with his fist. Blood gushed from the agent’s lips and mouth. Bonsam spun around and jumped sideways at the other agent, kicking the heel of his shoe deep into the agent’s stomach. More agents jumped into the fray as Bonsam continued to punch and kick anyone who came near him while furiously screaming, “Repent!”

 
In the end it took eight agents to subdue Bonsam. He was eventually worn down and reduced to sobbing. As Bonsam was wheeled out of the room with his arms and legs securely strapped to a gurney, his sobbing continued. In his head though, visions of ancient Maya symbols bombarded his mind. As always, the visions were accompanied by visions of flames.

Chapter 66

It was just past midnight and Team Clark was still partying the night away. Martineau was on her third glass of champagne and feeling quite festive. Emily was chatting up Clay, who she had dragged off to a secluded corner of the ballroom. Clark was standing in the center of the room with several of his old friends,
yucking
it up. “... and then I said, ‘He croaked like a frog!’” and then he and his cronies burst into laughter.

Brett Mason was weaving his way through the crowd trying to locate Clark. “Excuse me, pardon me,” he said as he tried to avoid spilling his drink on anyone. “Has anybody seen the president-elect?”

Clark looked up and said, “Mason, over here.”

Mason made his way to Clark and said excitedly, “I have an important message for you, Mr. President-elect.”

Clark looked at Mason, who was adorned in a Hawaiian shirt and two brightly colored leis, and said, “Nice shirt. What is it?”

Mason pulled a cell phone from behind his back and said loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, “You have a call from the White House!” The crowd in the room cheered. “I think someone wants to make his concession phone call!”

Clark smiled and said, “I will take it in my office.” He looked around the room for Vice President-elect Martineau and finally saw her standing at the drink table aimlessly trying to peel the label off a bottle of Dom
Pérignon
as she talked with Lieutenant Governor Purnell. “Kenna, come on.”

Clark and Martineau made their way toward his office with Purnell and Mason close behind. Clark yelled, “Emily, come up for air and join us, I want you here for this!” Emily got up and took Clay’s hand and dragged him along with her.

Once everyone was inside the office and the door was closed, Clark gave a big smile to those gathered and picked up the receiver from his desk phone. “Samuel Clark speaking.”

“Sam, this is Mike Holden.” The expression on Clark’s face changed so drastically that everyone in the room froze.

“Yes, Mr. Vice President,” he replied.
 

Everyone in the room mouthed, “Vice President?” as they looked around at one another.

Clark’s eyes darted around as he listened intently to the words that the vice president was saying. After several minutes Clark said, “Okay Mike, we’ll be on the first plane tomorrow morning.” He slowly placed the receiver back onto the hook.

Martineau said, “Sam, what is it?”

“We’ve been summoned to the White House by Vice President Holden,” Clark replied.

“Why? And why by VP Holden?” asked Martineau.
 

“I can’t tell you right now.” He turned to Lieutenant Governor Purnell and said, “Chris, you’re in charge here again.”
 

“Got it,” replied Purnell, as he pulled out his cell phone and exited the office.