“He’ll make a wonderful president.”
Senator Davis nodded. And I’ll have him in my pocket, he thought. He’s going to be my puppet. I’ll pull the strings, and the President of the United States will speak.
The senator pulled a gold cigar case from his pocket. “Cigar?”
The primaries around the country started well. Senator Davis had been right about Peter Tager. He was one of the best political managers in the world, and the organization he created was superb. Because Tager was a strong family man and a deeply religious churchgoer, he attracted the religious right. Because he knew what made politics work, he was also able to persuade the liberals to put aside their differences and work together. Peter Tager was a brilliant campaign manager, and his raffish black eye patch became a familiar sight on all the networks.
Tager knew that if Oliver was to be successful, he would have to go into the convention with a minimum of two hundred delegate votes. He intended to see to it that Oliver got them.
The schedule Tager drew up included multiple trips to every state in the union.
Oliver looked at the program and said, “This—this is impossible, Peter!”
“Not the way we’ve set it up,” Tager assured him. “It’s all been coordinated. The senator’s lending you his Challenger. There will be people to guide you every step of the way, and I’ll be at your side.”
Senator Davis introduced Sime Lombardo to Oliver. Lombardo was a giant of a man, tall and burly, dark both physically and emotionally, a brooding man who spoke little.
“How does he fit into the picture?” Oliver asked the senator when they were alone.
Senator Davis said, “Sime is our problem-solver. Sometimes people need a little persuasion to go along. Sime is very convincing.”
Oliver did not pursue it any further.
When the presidential campaign began in earnest, Peter Tager gave Oliver detailed briefings on what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. He saw to it that Oliver made appearances in all the key electoral states. And wherever Oliver went, he said what people wanted to hear.
In Pennsylvania: “Manufacturing is the life-blood of this country. We’re not going to forget that. We’re going to open up the factories again and get America back on the track!”
Cheers.
In California: “The aircraft industry is one of America’s most vital assets. There’s no reason for a single one of your plants to be shut down. We’re going to open them up again.”
Cheers.
In Detroit: “We invented cars, and the Japanese took the technology away from us. Well, we’re going to get back our rightful place as number one. Detroit’s going to be the automobile center of the world again!”
Cheers.
At college campuses, it was federally guaranteed student loans.
In speeches at army bases around the country, it was preparedness.
In the beginning, when Oliver was relatively unknown, the odds were stacked against him. As the campaign went on, the polls showed him moving up.
The first week in July, more than four thousand delegates and alternates, along with hundreds of party officials and candidates, gathered at the convention in Cleveland and turned the city upside down with parades and floats and parties. Television cameras from all over the world recorded the spectacle. Peter Tager and Sime Lombardo saw to it that Governor Oliver Russell was always in front of the lenses.
There were half a dozen possible nominees in Oliver’s party, but Senator Todd Davis had worked behind the scenes to assure that, one by one, they were eliminated. He ruthlessly called in favors owed, some as old as twenty years.
“Toby, it’s Todd. How are Emma and Suzy?…Good. I want to talk to you about your boy, Andrew. I’m worried about him, Toby. You know, in my opinion, he’s too liberal. The South will never accept him. Here’s what I suggest…”
“Alfred, it’s Todd. How’s Roy doing?…No need to thank me. I was happy to help him out. I want to talk to you about your candidate, Jerry. In my opinion, he’s too right-wing. If we go with him, we’ll lose the North. Now, here’s what I would suggest…”