Posted by
Garnet92 on Thursday, September 18, 2008 12:04:00 PM
It was Friday, the day after the Vice Presidential debate. The McCain campaign was seething over the spin by the MSM and the slanted polls that purported to show that Biden had won. John was fed up – he had tried to run an honorable campaign and even passed up opportunities to hit Obama hard if he felt that the subject could be perceived as negative. No more – now the gloves were off.
John, Sarah, and the staff boarded the “Straight Talk Express” for a short ride to Chicago where two days of events were scheduled. A new, more aggressive attack plan was devised. John had always been the one pushing for moderation – the staff had always wanted more hard-hitting ads, they wanted to hit Obama where it hurt. They were elated to be “set free” to get after the empty suit that was Obama.
They were in the final stretch run, barely a month to go ‘till the election. Wisely, the staff had gone easy on spending in September so they would be prepared for an all-out push in October leading up to election day – they had hard-hitting material available, they had the money necessary to swamp the airwaves, and now, they had the go-ahead from the big guy, they would be ready.
They started laying out the material. They had the Reverend Wright sermons, they had new information linking Obama more closely with Ayers. Rezko was now cooperating with authorities and spilling Obama’s (soon to be baked) beans all over the place. There were the phone conversations with Emil Jones. They had phone records showing calls both ways between Obama, Britney, and Paris.
And now, with the Fannie/Freddie bailout, it was easy to show that Obama couldn’t possibly do all that he’d promised, there simply wouldn’t be enough money – unless he dramatically raised taxes even more. And his actions during the bailout voting showed a glaring lack of leadership, and instead showed him running for cover at the first sign of trouble.
And then, the first shoe dropped.
Senator Emil Jones resigned from the Illinois Senate Friday morning. He also entered into a plea-bargain deal which provided authorities with documentation showing (among other things) that Obama didn’t author those bills he so proudly touted as his major accomplishments. He had admissible audio tapes where Obama can be heard making deals to earmark grant money in exchange for campaign contributions, and where Obama was railing against the white “slavemasters.”
The staff coined a new phrase: “3E.” That was short for being in “excrement of extensive extent” which is where Obama now found himself (it was more commonly known as deep doo-doo). Obama was said to have achieved “3E.”
It would take a couple of days to prepare the new ads. Then, they’ll explode on the scene, running in all of the battleground markets, running over and over; pounding home the theme that Obama is not what he seems. Exposing him as a novice in all aspects of governing, a socialist, an run-of-the-mill everyday Chicago politician, a lying panderer and a man without any internal compass – he merely said and did what her was told by his “handlers.”
The target date for the start of “The Siege” was next Wednesday, the day after the next debate. It would coincide with another group of ads portraying John and his achievements, his judgment, his character – all of his positive personal traits – the new campaign would truly be a double-barreled attack.
A debate prep meeting between the two participant groups was scheduled for Friday afternoon with the top Obama staffers and Obama himself expected to attend – but, it was abruptly rescheduled. It seems that the Emil Jones resignation and release of damaging documentation had thrown the Obama campaign staff into extreme panic mode. It should be noted that what they were afraid of was the truth. Since the debate was only a few days away, they agreed to a very brief meeting Saturday morning.
This was the first time that Sarah would meet Obama. She was looking forward to seeing the “inner” Obama. She wasn’t sure what to expect – maybe he’d be so squeaky-clean that he’d bewitch her with his charm – we’ll soon see.
They met at the Ritz-Carlton, a five-star hotel at the Water Tower in downtown Chicago. Obama’s group got there late and arranged themselves around a large conference table. And then “His Holiness” entered. Sarah (via her dorky glasses) got a real good look into Barack Hussein Obama.
What she saw was troubling.
Beneath that smiling exterior, he was a walking, talking, counterfeit twenty-dollar bill. On the surface, he looked good and people took that exterior façade as the real thing, they accepted it. But below the surface, he was worth less than the paper the bogus bill was printed on. As in any good counterfeit, the discrepancies weren’t easily detected by the casual observer, and the majority of his supporters were lulled into a blind faith that he was all they thought him to be.
There was no moral compass to tell right from wrong – right or wrong just didn’t matter. He was devoid of conscience. He cared naught for friends, except for what they could do for him – he had no religion, feared no God - not even Mohammad. Promises he made meant nothing, and underlying it all was a dark undercurrent of some flavor of corruption that Sarah couldn’t identify. Sarah didn’t know what to make of that part.
Wait a minute … what was this … something in his ear? It was a cochlear implant in his left ear canal. Having no record of hearing loss, Sarah looked a little deeper and found that it was a receiver picking up information sent from some unknown source. That could make for an interesting development if she knew the frequency it was receiving.
Wow, what a piece of work he was.
Sarah didn’t see any evidence that Michelle had confronted him about the taped poker comments yet, but she did see a conversation that Obama had with Britney last night – arranging an appointment for a “consultation.” What Sarah gathered from her look inside Obama really worried her – an enemy with no sense of fair play, who would not play by any rules. He would do and say anything to win – period.
The negotiations covering a few debate details were concluded quickly and the meeting broke up. Sarah was glad to get away from him.
The rest of Saturday was non-eventful, a fund raiser lunch and a rally in late afternoon. Both went well and the excitement level was high.
That evening, Sarah begged off from dinner with John and the staff, using the excuse of catching up on her e-mails and calling Todd and the kids. She quickly finished her “duties,” and slipped into her snappy, red, white, and blue frock. She had a date - a “ménage â trios” with Obama and Britney at the Essex Inn.
These liaison things were always tricky for the secret service. They frowned on doing it, but had little choice – their job was to protect, not be the conscience of the candidate – and, they kept their mouths shut.
Mighty Mom could identify six agents, there could be more. They’d be everywhere except in the room. And, Britney had two body guards of her own – it looked like a “Soldier of Fortune” convention outside of room 612 with four burly men milling about. Agents also required that 610 and 614 remained vacant on either side of the “consultation” room. It wasn’t necessary to catch Barry and Britney in “mid-deed,” it was only necessary to have pictures providing irrefutable evidence of them being together in a hotel room – let everyone’s imagination do the rest.
But how?
Maybe the best plan would be to alert the paparazzi and give them the room number. That could create enough of a diversion to let MM take care of a couple of the guards. That’s the ticket.
MM called the Chicago Observer and told them of the tryst and was able to describe the black Suburbans (complete with license plate numbers), Britney’s body guards, and a few other items so that the Observer staff felt that it was a good tip. They’d have to get past the lobby agents and such, but that was their business - they were sneaky. They would simply check into the hotel, and as guests they were authorized to be anywhere in the hotel.
The tabloid sent Jack Haas and Jean Poole, a middle-aged couple masquerading as man and wife. They did a masterful job of (seeming) to argue over what floor their room should be on – “no higher than the sixth floor,” “close to the stairwell,” etc. until they were finally rewarded with room 626, at the end of the sixth floor hall.
They secreted their camera equipment under outer clothing and slowly walked down the sixth-floor hall from the elevator towards room 612. Mighty Mom was hidden in the elevator and peeked out far enough to look “into” the two agents. She quickly determined which agent had the room card for 612. He would be her target. She could take care of the two agents. She needed to get the other two body guards away from the door.
In their room for only fifteen or twenty minutes, Jean faked a seizure and Jack ran screaming into the hall, “help, help, my wife is having a seizure, please help”! The agents could not move from the door so they sent Britney’s body guards to assist. In a flash, MM was on the two agents. A quick Vulcan neck pinch to each agent and they dropped like rocks. She retrieved the entry card and slipped it into the slot – green light. She whistled and Jack ran out of the room, opened 612 and shot fifteen or twenty auto-wind pictures and headed for the elevator. He got in with Mighty Mom and she pinched him – thud, to the floor he went. Quickly, she changed back to normal clothes and as he was coming around, she helped him up. “What happened to you”? “I don’t know, a Superman-looking woman with a cape and a snappy, red, white, and blue frock knocked me out.” Sarah asked slowly, “Have you been drinking, sir”?
In the meantime, the agents regained consciousness. By this time, Obama and Britney were raising hell and screaming at the agents and body guards. Half-dressed and cussing like drunken sailors, they called the four men everything in the Dictionary of Profanity, and made up a few new expletives as well. But the deed was done. MM returned to her hotel and knew that she had just about finished off Barack Hussein Obama’s chance at the Presidency.
As she slipped off into dreamland, a name Lorena Bobbitt popped into her head – she didn’t know why - Lorena Bobbitt – there it was again. Then she realized why that particular name popped into her head. Michelle might be that unhappy when she found out what Barry had been doing that night. She wouldn’t want to be in Barry’s shoes.