Michaels smiled as the news unfolded. Every last piece of news was playing into his hands. Lost in raucous was the fact that in the lower courts, two attempts to challenge the constitutionality of the Federal Reserve Act of 1913 had been dismissed. There wasn’t even a mention in The Washington Post’s political round up, apparently deemed as some moronic crusade unworthy of the public’s time and attention.
However, that all changed the following morning when the Supreme Court announced it would hear briefs in the case and would hold them in two days in an emergency hearing. The announcement caught everyone off guard. Journalists scrambled to report who was behind the challenge and what the potential fallout of a reversal of the law could mean, a law that had withstood far more aggressive challenges throughout history than this one.
Michaels sipped on a cup of coffee as he flipped the channel across several news channels to listen to what commentators were saying. Some agreed with the challenge and said it should’ve been overturned years ago. Others thought the lawsuit was ridiculous, as was the “antiquated” Supreme Court justices for agreeing to take it up. But regardless of what any pundit thought about the situation, Michaels’ name was glaringly absent. Not even a mention of what the president might think about a potential landmark change to the law.
With Washington abuzz over the news and impending case, Michaels recorded his weekly radio address to the nation. He didn’t have the flair Roosevelt did with his fireside chats, but Michaels found the opportunity to speak his mind directly to the American people without a filter quite refreshing. He liked using social media as well, but he found messages were often lost or misinterpreted in the small number of characters allowed to craft his idea. He also felt any form of digital communication was often subject to the loss of tone, giving the user the power to determine the intent of whatever was conveyed. Michaels found utilizing social media oftentimes counterproductive. But the radio address was golden.
He entered the studio to record something he’d written himself. No speech writers, no input from aides. Just Michaels and a pen with some paper. He’d never felt so proud of his oratory skills than he did when he read what he’d written. Everything he said, he did so with conviction and passion.
For the first time since he’d been elected, Michaels felt like he was poised to make a difference. He was convinced that his leadership for the country was necessary in a time like this.
In a moment of gut-wrenching honesty, Michaels realized he was overselling his importance. And his leadership was little more than dancing to the tune Katarina Petrov commanded him to. But no one had to know. He’d gone to great lengths to make sure he was shielded from any controversy. The only people who could blow the lid off his plan were the five justices he’d asked to attend a secret meeting. And if one of them dared to expose Michaels, they’d all be considered equally guilty by the public and perhaps even by governing law boards. If any of the justices cared about their position and reputation, they would never breathe a word of what happened to anyone—and Michaels knew they all cared deeply about legacies. All judges with aspirations for the Supreme Court eyed their place in U.S. history with great contemplation. But Michaels escalated their dreams by offering the proverbial carrot on the stick: Vote for me and you will find yourself on the first world court.
Michaels had no idea if it would come to pass or not—at least not while he was in office. But his offer was compelling enough to sway any fence sitters. Ultimately, how the justices voted regarding the challenge to the Federal Reserve Act was all that concerned Michaels. There would be no going back for them once the law was struck down, clearing the path for the next phase of Michaels’ plan.
Everything was falling in to place. And as long as nothing went wrong, Michaels would be celebrating an unprecedented political coup in less than a week.
Michaels listened to his recorded address several times before signing off on it. Satisfied with the tenor of his recording, he returned to his office. He hadn’t been sitting down more than two minutes before his secretary buzzed him on his phone.
“Mr. President?” she asked.
“Yes, Heather. What is it?”
“You’ve got a call on line 2. It’s urgent.”
“Who is it?”
“Just take the call,” she said before hanging up.
Michaels pressed the blinking light on his phone and answered.
“This is President Michaels.”
“Who knew it’d be so easy to reach you?” said a woman.
“Justice Williams, what a fine pleasure it is to speak with you today. It’s been quite some time. What is it I can do for you?”
“Quite some time?” she said. “Cut the bullshit. I don’t care if this conversation is being recorded or not.”
“No need to dispense with proper decorum or begin with such hostility. However, I can tell that something isn’t right.”
“You know damn well something isn’t right,” she said. “I know what you’re up to.”
“Of course you do,” Michaels said. “I shared it with you.”
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I figured out what your end game is and I’m not going to be party to these shenanigans that are making a mockery of our Constitution.”
“What are you going to do, Justice Williams? Report me? Need I remind you that I buried plenty of skeletons from your past when I was on the Senate Judiciary Committee that was working hard to get your nomination cleared?”
“You didn’t bury anything,” she said. “You keeping a few embarrassing things from my past personal life out of the mainstream media could hardly be considered burying something. That was a professional favor. I could’ve endured it, though it doesn’t matter now that Henry’s dead.”
“So you think now that your husband is dead that it wouldn’t
