The next morning Jake got to his office early, as usual. He had learned that he could get almost a full day’s work done before the rest of the staff arrived and started pestering him with their questions and problems.
He booted up his desktop computer and started looking up the private companies that were ferrying cargo and people to the aged International Space Station and offering tourists rides into orbit.
Some of them professed to be working on establishing private tourist hotels in orbit, others claimed they had plans for landing people on the Moon. But the most popular goal seemed to be to send people to Mars.
All talk, Jake saw as he scanned one company’s glitzy prospectus after another. They’re trying to raise money. Looking at their financial pages, he saw that the only companies making steady profits were those with NASA contracts to fly resupply missions to the ISS.
By nine a.m., when one of the front office kids popped her head into his office with an offer of coffee, Jake was leaning back in his desk chair, thinking hard.
His phone buzzed. Kevin O’Donnell’s executive assistant asked him to come to the staff chief’s office, “as soon as you can.”
Jake recognized a summons when he heard one. He shut down his computer and headed for O’Donnell’s office.
Earl Reynolds intercepted him halfway there.
“Heard the news?” the media relations man asked, with a canary-fed cat’s smile.
Without breaking stride, Jake asked, “About the bombing in Bogotá?”
“No.” Reynolds shook his head, as if the undeclared war in Colombia was unimportant. “The Boss wants to announce his candidacy.”
“Now?”
“Soon as we can get a campaign manager signed up.”
Jake let out a theatrical sigh. “Fasten your seat belt.”
Reynolds’s fleshy face broke into a grin. “Damn the torpedoes. Full steam ahead.”
Jake thought that was a great way to get sunk. But he said nothing and resolutely wound his way through the sea of desks toward O’Donnell’s office.
The chief of staff was on his feet, at the window that looked out on the dome of the Capitol building.
“Good morning, Kevin,” Jake said as he stepped through the open office doorway.
Turning, O’Donnell said, “Close the door.”
Jake shut the door softly while O’Donnell went to his desk and sat down.
“He wants to announce that he’s going to run.”
Jake took one of the padded chairs in front of the desk. With a nod he replied, “Yeah. Earl told me a minute ago.”
O’Donnell’s face clouded over. “I told him to keep this under his hat.”
“Well, you called me in here to tell me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but if Earl’s blabbing the news out in the goddamned hallways the whole goddamned world’s going to know it in the next ten minutes.”
Jake said nothing. He had no desire to get involved in a screaming match between O’Donnell and Reynolds. But as he sat there and studied O’Donnell’s lean, tense face, Jake realized that Kevin was genuinely upset with the senator’s desire to go public with his decision.
“We don’t have a campaign manager, we don’t have a team for him, and we don’t have a penny in the bank,” O’Donnell complained.
“Frank’s got his own money,” Jake said.
O’Donnell glared at him. “God save us from amateurs,” he grumbled. Before Jake could say a word, he went on, “First, you use as little of your own money as possible. Second, the amount of money you raise is an indication of how much support you have. Try funding a campaign on your own and the pros will laugh you out of town.”
“Oh? What about Trump?”
O’Donnell glared at Jake. “I want Frank to wait until we get some money in the bank and a decent campaign manager,” O’Donnell went on. “But, oh no! He’s hell-bent on plowing ahead.”
“There’s only a little more than a year between now and the nominating convention,” Jake said.
As if he hadn’t heard Jake, O’Donnell muttered, “If he’s going to run around like a loose cannon I might as well hand in my resignation right now and be done with it.”
Jake felt a pang of alarm. “But he needs you, Kevin! He depends on you.”
“Then why doesn’t he take my advice? Dammit, he’s going to slit his own throat.”
“Have you talked with him about this?”
“Last night, until two in the fucking morning. It was like talking to a stone wall.”
“He’s made up his mind, Kevin.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But he’s charging ahead blindly. He’s got to listen to advice, goddammit!”
“I wish there was something I could do.”
“There is.”
Jake blinked.
Leaning tensely over his desk, O’Donnell said, “You’ve known him longer than anybody else in the office here. You were with him when he first ran for the Senate.”
“He was a political unknown then,” Jake said, adding to himself, An unknown from one of the wealthiest families in the state.
“Would you talk to him? Try to drum some sense into his head? He won’t listen to me about this.” O’Donnell was almost pleading.
“I don’t know if it’ll do any good.”
“Will you try?”
Jake nodded. “Sure. I’ll try.”