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Council on Foreign
Relations and was widely noted for his expertise on the history of world trade,
from colonial to modern times.  His rise seemed effortless, and money came to
his campaigns without his having to ask or negotiate.  Most of it came from
effectively anonymous sources where the true source of the money was never
known to him.  The suburban Maryland district he represented in Congress took
to his progressive ideas with overwhelming enthusiasm.  Within four years and
with the death of an older Maryland Senator, Torres easily claimed that seat at
the age of 38.  By that time, political insiders were openly discussing how
long it would be before his appearance on a national ticket.  But with approval
from insiders came suspicions from the people that he was indifferent to their
interests.  Despite the mistrust of the common people, Torres nonetheless rode
a wave of progressive enthusiasm to an easy electoral victory, aided in no small
part by the nation’s aversion to the heavy handed governance of the previous
administration.  Torres was beloved in progressive circles, not least because
he was elected without needing to placate the populist sentiments that were so
alien to progressives.
    Torres’ final visitor was his Chief
of Staff Gerry Levine.  Levine was respectful but in a way that always left the
impression of a façade.  “Is everything set for the special envoy?” asked
Torres.
    “Yes Sir, though I also have to ask
whether you’ve worked everything out with Ms. Morgensen.  She was pretty firm
about being first in this morning.”
    Torres extended his arms and looked
up in a mock gesture of surrender.  “Gerry, the Cobra is killing me.  Couldn’t
you tell her I’m at some monastery in Antarctica or something?”
    “Sir, if I did that, it’s me who
would find himself in Antarctica, or at least pieces of me would be,” replied
Levine with an awkward smile.
    Torres gave Levine a quick glance
as if to remind him that only one of them was going to make jokes during these
discussions, and Levine quickly became serious again.  “Keep on Kurdi for me. 
I need to know what their take is on the Chinese naval maneuvers.”

Chapter 5:  Golfing with Stahl
    When Jackson Torres was under
stress, it was well known that he favored golf as an escape from his problems. 
What was not well known was that his favored golf partner and mentor Carson
Stahl was perhaps the biggest single influence in his life.  Stahl was a
pragmatist who had left wing tendencies in his younger days but had evolved
over time into a pragmatic power broker.  He had a knack at posing the right
question to an opinion poll and getting an answer that could be exploited in an
election.  But more importantly, Stahl knew the people who represented the big money,
the people you had to make the deals with if you wanted to be elected to higher
office.
    When the two played golf, they
would often sit and talk in the cart for long periods of time, even when they
had arrived at the golf ball.  The Secret Service gave them their space, but
they instinctively did most of their talking in the cart.
    “I’m burning out, Carson,” said
Torres.  “Power is an illusion in my office.  You showed me how to get elected,
how to raise the money needed from the owners and gain acceptance with their
lackeys in the media.  But now I’m their employee, and my job is to protect
their interests from the people.  They even put the Cobra in there to supervise
me, to keep me in line.”
    “Jackson, that’s the reality of
power,” said Stahl, standing up from the cart and barely increasing his
elevation, standing at only 5’5”.  Stahl was wise, but he did not look the part
enough to be elected to public office himself.  “You don’t think they’d let an
outsider like yourself upset the apple cart, do you?”
    “But they helped me get elected,”
said Torres.
    “Think of it as a rich man who has
a vast estate.  He hires a manager,