Hawk studied Young, who stood in the corner and flipped through his speech notes. With relaxed shoulders and an expressionless demeanor, Young looked to be engaged in nothing more than a routine procedure like washing his hands or drinking a glass of water. Hawk searched for the slightest glint of sweat on Young’s forehead yet noticed nothing. He looked up briefly when a senator came by and patted him on the back, saying something that elicited Young’s megawatt smile.
Checking the time again, Hawk turned his focus toward one of Young’s campaign aides, Emma Fulton. She was a rising star in Washington’s political scene, mostly for her ability to help candidates connect with a new generation of voters. Hawk walked over to Emma, who was texting off and on, reacting quickly to each new message that popped up on her phone.
“You can’t ever leave your work at work any more, can you?” Hawk asked.
She paused to cast a sideways glance at him. “Can’t afford to. Someone else will take your job.”
Hawk’s attempt at small talk was just to break the ice so he could ask the question that he really wanted answered. His primary intention was to gauge her reaction about the forthcoming announcement by her candidate.
“So, what did you think when you heard the news?” he asked.
She didn’t look up from her texting. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that with me.”
“Sorry, I’m sure it probably doesn’t even feel like news to you when you’re on the inside. I was referring to Young’s big announcement that he plans on making at this rally.”
She shrugged. “I wish he would’ve said something earlier than waiting this late in the campaign.”
“Do you think it’s going to hurt him?”
“What? Waiting this late to announce it?” she asked before shaking her head. “It shouldn’t matter with the voting public.”
“But this will dominate the headlines for days. You don’t think it will sway some folks?”
Emma looked warily at Hawk. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the polls lately, but this election isn’t going to be decided by last-minute undecided voters. This announcement will only give Young more credibility.”
Hawk furrowed his brow. Emma had become known for her ability to spin a story, but he struggled to believe she could sugarcoat the truth surrounding Conrad Michaels’s death.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another fire to put out,” she said before walking away while hammering out another text.
Hawk killed the remaining time by staying in the shadows and watching the crowd anxious to begin the rally.
When Noah Young glided onto the stage to thunderous applause, he wore a big smile and waved in all directions. He sauntered over to the glass podium and waited for the cheering to die down before speaking.
“Thank you for that warm welcome,” Young began, only to be interrupted by yet another twenty seconds of clapping.
Young raised his hands again, gesturing for the crowd to calm down. He then broke into his stump speech, reiterating the promises and points of focus that his campaign had drummed into the heads of voters who bothered to listen. Half an hour into the speech, Young had excited them. Hawk noted how the hope seemed almost palpable. Everyone in the building was going to leave with the idea that the future was bright if Young retained his position as president.
Then Young’s tone turned somber. “In moving forward, we must not forget the man who came before me, President Conrad Michaels, God rest his soul.”
Here we go. Hawk took a deep breath and closely watched the audience’s reaction as Young continued.
“Before President Michaels’s tragic death, there were a few pieces of legislation that he was passionate about. And one of those had to do with keeping the American people safe from terrorists.
“Now, I know he wasn’t perfect. He had his faults like anyone does. But I never once questioned his commitment to this country. And I can’t think of a better way to honor his memory than opening up my presidency by passing a bill in his honor that will help us fight terrorism more effectively and keep this nation one of the safest on earth.
“The Michaels Act will grant further liberties for our troops and special forces attempting to ferret out and eliminate terrorist organizations, much like the one that recently made a failed attack on New York City. With the Michaels Act, our counterterrorism forces would’ve been able to act more swiftly and decisively in squelching the activities of these nefarious agents who try to do harm to this country. They would’ve never been able to even mount something akin to what we consider a credible threat.
“As someone who loves this country deeply, I want to ensure that the freedoms we’ve had for a couple of centuries remain in place for generations to come. Terrorists thrive on fear, but I want them to fear us. No longer will we cower at their efforts to bring chaos to our culture. No longer will we wonder when we’ll experience the next attack. No longer will we be afraid.”
Hawk watched the crowd rise to its feet and explode with applause. Young smiled and waved, raising both hands. He pumped his fists and spouted off a few campaign slogans, whipping the crowd to a fever pitch.
And then he walked off the stage.
That’s not exactly how this was supposed to go.
Campaign aides and other staffers swarmed Young once he reached the stage wings. Hearty hugs and wide smiles marked the scene. If the speech had been a sporting event, Young would’ve certainly been carried off on the shoulders of his teammates while they chanted of his glory.
The corners of Hawk’s mouth remained down, unwilling to even flash a grin despite the joyful celebration occurring a few feet away. Instead of being honest with the American people about what happened to Michaels, Young
