Mando Bk. 03: General Badass Ch. 12

Chapter 12: The    Real    Deal

Danny's point of view

"Come in, General." We shake hands, and I motion for him to sit in a chair close to me. "Have a seat, and we'll have coffee brought in."    

The General is no small talker. "General President, you are trailing in the polls and still dropping. I'm sure you've noticed."    

"Of course."

He scoffs. "Remember when President Sullivan and I first called you and what he wanted you to do if he remained in office?"    

"Yes, and it puzzled me. He wanted me to be a military advisor. But General, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is the military advisor."    His head dips down and up in a shallow bob. "Quite right. Since my term ends next year, I recommended you as my replacement."    

My jaw drops in awe and freezes several seconds before I recover. "But, but General Hogue, in the past the new chairman has been a Vice-Chairman or joint chief for years. Their qualifications outstrip mine."    

"Your qualifications are more important than the seniority of others."    

I'm suspicious. The General doesn't waste time or mince words. He doesn't make social calls. He scratches his bald head and squares his broad shoulders and locks gazes with me.    

"General President, be blunt, please. Which position suits you best, leading the military, or leading the country?"    

"Well General, the President is the Commander In Chief; so theoretically, he or she is head of both."    

He leans slightly toward me. "Yes, but in fact, only the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs recommends when to declare war. So who is directly in charge of the military?"    

I'm still jogging behind him. I don't know where he is going with this. "Alright General, the president is the highest-ranking officer, but the chairman doesn't have direct control of the combat troops."    

"No, that's the Secretary of Defense's job. And who advises that individual?"    

I grin at his cunning. "The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs."    

"Yes, the Chairman is the military advisor to the president, the National Security Council, the homeland security council, and the secretary of defense. That's pretty military I'd say."    

"Out with it, General. What are you getting at?"    

He rewards my impatience with a knowing smile. "The terrorists want you out of office. Judging by the popular vote, they might get their wish. But the reasons they want you gone are all military related."    

My endurance for good manners is getting challenged. I want to know what the fuck the Chairman is getting to. "So?"    

"Wouldn't it be a kick in the teeth if you weren't president, but were still in their face and kicking their ass even more so?"    

I lean back, faking disinterest. "Yes, it would. Where are you going with this, General?"    

"What would happen if you and the Republican Party agreed to an arrangement between a candidate and his political party for your endorsement of their candidacy?"    

I'm intrigued. "An arrangement for what, exactly?"    

"The Republican Party would get certain concessions for appointing you Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. This way you're running toward the terrorists rather than running from them. And you have the whole military at your disposal for protection if you need it." He smiles and leans back.    

To say I'm stunned is as necessary as saying a horse is a quadruped. My jaw drops and my breathing stops. I am not just at a loss for words. If the right words were tattooed on my tongue, I still wouldn't know how to respond or what to say.

He smiles and waits patiently for a response. Respond? Hell's bells in seashells! He might as well order a Pizza while he waits because I'm thinking in slow motion―no motion even. My brain has weighed anchor and is floating without direction because it's lost its compass and can't chart its course. This conversation scrambled and jumbled my thoughts. Talk about a knockout punch. I didn't see this one coming.    

I take a sip of coffee to buy a little more time and reply. "What brings this idea up, General?"    

"Simple. The joint chiefs don't want to lose your leadership. We've seen you kick ass, but never kiss it. You are more of a general than a president, am I right?"    

"If you're asking if I'm more comfortable leading people who follow orders, then the answer is yes. But am I comfortable quitting?" I shake my head. "Not in the least."    

He leans to one side and surveys me like he's sizing me up or taking inventory of the hairs on my head. "The other candidates have two possible outcomes. Win the election or lose it. You, on the other hand, are being offered a third choice: Win, Lose or transfer to another position of high rank that will complement the president-elect without competing with him. He won't have to match your military strength because he'll have you. You will strengthen his presidency. "    

"But General, wouldn't the Vice Chair or other joint chiefs resent being passed over?"    

His chuckle is like a hiccuping burp. "They're military to the marrow of their bones, General Madam President. Being passed over by the only five-star general in the entire military forces won't cause anyone to lose face. Not to mention your track record proving your qualifications." He shakes his head and grins. "No, the appointment will not ruffle a single feather." He holds up a finger. "First female president, and," up pops another finger; "first woman five-star general. Now the first woman Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Do you think you can handle being first at everything?"    

We both laugh as I stand and extend my hand. "As usual, General, you outflanked me and outgunned me. I didn't see this one coming. Do you believe the Democrat candidate will agree to such a thing?"    

"It will guarantee him the presidency, and a stronger one. He will do it. Also, your party gets concessions and favors it will lose if you lose. The public will know and remember that you didn't lose the presidency. Instead, you took a lateral promotion that allows you to concentrate on America's defense and safety with many fewer distractions." He stands  to leave. "Think about it and let's talk tomorrow morning, will that do?"    

I smile at his subtle as a hammer approach. "That'll do just fine."    

***    

During dinner, I share the news with my husband and my friend. Kammy's lower lip juts out. "You mean I can't live in the White House anymore?"    

Gino pats her hand. "Not to worry, Phantom, we'll get a house any color you want."    

She brightens. "Really? With fewer shadows and snoops?"    

"Well now, we may have a snoop or two assigned to the ex-president, but we can probably get a detail assigned only to us so they'll know the drill and keep things confidential."    

I look from one to the other. "What are your thoughts?"    

Gino takes my left hand in his and looks me in the eye. "Do you want to be president for four years?"    

I hesitate before shaking my head. "Not really. I just don't want to give anyone the satisfaction of thinking they ran me off with my tail between my legs."    

Kammy shakes her head. "Too late for anyone to think that. You've proven you're tough as the toughest and as rough as the roughest. Not only that, the move will look like you're positioning yourself to challenge the terrorist head-on."    

Gino's head bobs. "Yes, it looks prudent, and the Chairman position is a strong move with more downside for the terrorist than your being the president."    

Kammy places her glass on the table in front of her, swallows her food and wipes her mouth. "But listen, guys, whether you endorse either candidate or neither one, surely the one elected would follow the Chairman's recommendation, anyway."    

I agree. "True, Kammy, but by announcing in advance I have agreed to the position if a certain candidate wins, implies he is the candidate I want to work with. The PR team will put the proper spin on it to make it positive. This way I add my votes to his instead of being divided between the two candidates."    

Her eyes turn toward the ceiling as she thinks. "I can see that, but couldn't you get both candidates to agree to do that if they won?"    

"Yes, but that would endorse neither, leaving my voters up for grabs. The one I team up with will have both his votes and mine."    

"Ahhhh, I get it." She wrinkles her nose. "So what are you going to do?"    

I maintain a sincere look. "There's only one right thing to do."    

She gives me a curious look. She's hooked. "And what is that?"    

My grin is instant. "Let's go to bed and do a little pole dancing, muff diving, suck and duck, and hokey pokey to clear my mind so I can think."    

Kammy slaps her forehead. "Duh! Why didn't I know that?"    

***    

It's two in the morning, and I can't sleep. I roll over to my husband's side of the bed and whisper, in his ear. "Gino, are you awake?"    

      "No."    

      "Wake up then, I want to tell you something." He sits up in bed looking groggy. "Spit it out, lover, so I can go back to sleep."    

I grin. "How about one of those Kama Sutra sex positions first?"    

He slaps my leg. "Oh yes, I'm wide awake. Let's try a difficult one. If that doesn't do it, we'll go to Plan B."    

"Good. What's plan A?" I lift an eyebrow.    

"Put a pillow on the floor to rest your arms on it to hold yourself up. Get on the floor on all fours, lean on the pad with your arm and elbows by arranging them parallel in front of you. The pillow should be under each elbow."    

I can't hide my excitement while taking the position.    

"Rest your head on your arms," he gently instructs.    

I giggle. "I don't know whether to be excited or worried."    

"Here we go." He lifts my legs up by my ankles until my body is almost perpendicular to the floor. My knees are touching my tummy and boobs. He's holding my ankles. Except for him being there, I am about to roll over my head like we did as kids.    

Gino slips his prick inside me. Oops! We didn't do that as kids! Whoa! That cock is going deeper than with a  doggy pose because gravity is on his side.    

Ohhh, he's wiggling his hips while thrusting. I like it! Kinky and slinky. Yes! Every nerve in the first third of my vagina is being stroked and shaken against his cock. I didn't know being fucked upside down could be like this.    

He's holding my legs just above the ankle with a firm grip so I can move my hips and clit to any angle or height I want.    

"Faster, Gino! Harder!" Ah yes! I love hearing his hips slam against my butt. I like feeling them even better. With each slam, my head rocks back and forth on my arms. What a rush! My whole body is working this yoga fuck and wow! I keep changing the angle of my hips, and he keeps wiggling and thrusting.    

I can hold this position as long as I need to, but I think only those in terrific condition can.    

I'm in ecstasy land. "Fuck, yeah! Faster, harder! Yeah, Baby!" He's looking down at me. Wow! He's going jackhammer fast. I know he can't hold back his load with that much friction on that beautiful cock head. "Fuck! Go, Gino Go! Harder! Faster!"    

My body is about to climax to the max. He stiffens and his legs  tremble. I relax, waiting for the orgasm to come.    

His hips are churning and spanking hard while his cock is driving and diving deep while thrusting with gusto. Now he's at full speed.    

My snatch is smoking! Yes! My climax is at maximum load. I am engulfed by it. I am lost in it. The pounding is shaking every bone, nerve, and cell in my body, intensifying the experience so much I'm disoriented. I guess being fucked upside down so fast can do that. I forget where I am as my body rocks, shimmies, and jerks from the powerful impact of that jack hammering cock.    

Delicious pain envelops my clit, lips, and folds. God, I love this!    

His pile driving hips remind me of a machine gun. I am rattling so hard now it's like being fucked during an earthquake. At least I guess it would feel like this. Or maybe I feel like an earthquake being fucked. Don't know, but if he stops, he's dead meat.    

My orgasms aren't stopping. One tumbles into the next and is enveloped and absorbed with scintillating vigor b y volcanic steam, frozen fire, and flaming ice.    

The rattling, pounding and shaking smashes all boundaries of sensitivity and sensuality, and produce nerve shattering orgasms and Mount Everest climaxes. I am like a copper coil with electricity shooting through me turning me into a magnet that's drawing feelings and sounds so new to me I am mesmerized and galvanized. They start local and shoot beams from my body like rays of sunshine illuminating the mist to form a rainbow. I don't see a rainbow, but I hear the rain and smell the fresh scent it brings. Oh!    

Growls, grunts, and sounds of passion force their way through Gino's gritted teeth as he shoots his wad and pumps me full. 

He stops pounding and pushes his cock hard against my bottom, straining to drain the last cum drop and drag the orgasm out as long as he can.    

He withdraws slowly and lowers me to the floor so the blood that has rushed to my head can return to work. He drops beside me on the floor exhausted and breathing like he just finished running a marathon.    

"Gino! That was fantastic! More than amazing! Was that from the Kama Sutra?" I ask him when I finally catch my breath.    

"Yes, straight from India." he winks and watches my breasts lifting and falling from my favorite exercise.    

"I love that kinky sex manual, then. I think it's my favorite book in the entire world." I wiggle and giggle. "Tonight, anyway. My god, Gino I was shaking, rattling, and rolling from my nose to my toes. I swear all that shaking and pounding tripled every sensation! Good gravy, Baby, that was GOOD! Good, hell, it was GREAT!"    

A sleepy voice floats over to us from the bed. "Ummm, where are you guys? I think something woke me, but I'm not sure what."    

We laugh at her. "Kammy, if you slept through that pounding and slapping I bet you can sleep through a kettle drum and tuba concert! Right, Gino?" I look at him through happy eyes.    

He grins and taps her playfully on the head. "To be sure."    

***    

By the time I meet with General Hogue my direction is clear. "All right general, how do we get this started?"    

He doesn't act surprised. Of course he's not. He reaches for his black coffee, slurps it noisily, and answers. "I'll bring in the campaign chairman, PR team and the Party Election Committee. If they are on board, they'll develop a plan and get the ball rolling."    

Two days later both camps agreed to an arrangement that benefited both parties. That evening and the next day's newspapers told the readers; Yale Professor will predict the winner of the presidential election. Tune in to Good Evening America Friday evening with guest Dr. Gregory Winslow, Professor of Political Science at Yale University. Once ten percent of the voters from a selected eight states and three percent from twelve chosen states answer one question on his website, he will announce the winner of the upcoming Presidential election.    

That Friday Evening TV's throughout America tune in to the Good Evening America Show at six o'clock Pacific Time. I watch it on a big LCD screen.    

The host is jovial, and the atmosphere is electric as she begins the interview. "Professor, the last time you were on our show was after the assassination attempt upon the President."    

"Yes, that's correct." He winks, nods, and smiles.    

"When asked if the President would win the election you suggested that something could happen that would decide the election, but were cryptic about what that something was. You said we'll see how it plays out. Do I remember correctly?"    

He nods. "Yes, you're right on target, Jillian."         

"Today you promised that if ten percent of the voters in eight states and three percent of twelve other selected states go online immediately and answer one question you would predict the winner of the upcoming Presidential Primaries. Are you still game?" She tosses her auburn hair as she flashes her signature bright smile and straightens the lapel on her white power suit.    

The professor in his chocolate brown trousers, navy blazer and conservative tan shirt and yellow silk tie with tiny blue polka dots looks spiffy and sharp. His heavy white eyebrows and hair forming a horseshoe around his head over a slightly wrinkled brow gave a scholarly impression. He nods. "I am ready to do that. First, I'll explain things, and you can ask for clarification when needed, and then I'll propose the one question for all states, but there are essential states I'll single out once enough votes are cast.    

"Why those states, Professor?"    

"There are two reasons. Historical correlation and the number of electoral votes they carry. In today's age, the electoral votes follow the majority of votes in each state. Therefore if we concentrate on the voters from these swing states, we'll know which way the political wind blows, so to speak."    

"That makes sense. How does this work, or what do we need to know before we answer the magic question?"    

The professor leans back in the plush leather wing-back chair and elaborates.    

"Jillian, the incumbent and the Democrat candidate are leading in the polls. Each has a definite strength. Shawn Travis, the Democratic candidate, offers political savvy because of his years in the senate and congress. He knows how to navigate in the system while maintaining a balance among the players, so to speak."    

"By Balance, professor, do you mean stepping on fewer toes and ruffling fewer feathers to gain more cooperation and forward motion?" She gently taps her chin and moves in the chair.    

"Exactly. He knows the players, is people oriented, and brilliant. Conversely, he has no military experience."    

"Uh-huh, I see where you're going with this. The incumbent, General Danny Sterling Marino  is brilliant too, but not people oriented. She wants action and results in a short time regardless of the friction it causes, correct?"    

The professor nods. "That's the downside." He pauses. "But the upside is an unprecedented military presidency and a penchant for forecasting results and harmful intent to our citizens. Think about the earthquake in Pakistan, the understanding and strategic planning in the rescue of our Vice President, from terrorists in Morocco, and predicting and preventing the assassination of our President and the Pope. And look at the situation in the Middle East. Thanks to her, peace is possible."    

"I understand. So what you are saying is the President's strength?"    

He's smug. "Military experience and national and international defense. America feels safe in her hands. The terrorists are trying so hard to keep her from winning the election because she is such a formidable enemy. They want her s out of the way before implementing future strategies against the USA.."    

Jillian sums up the president's  shortcomings. "She sounds sensitive to threatening situations and America's defense, but insensitive to those who don't make direct contributions to the cause, so to speak."    

"You're correct. So, Jillian let me spell out the one thing that will determine the election," he intones.    

"Oh please do. I can't wait to hear this and to see if you are right."

  I'm with Jillian. I am also eager to see if he's right. Even though I already know what will happen, watching the show is exciting and fascinating.

"Oh, I'm right, as you'll soon see." He winks at the camera.    

"That's pretty smug, Professor," Jillian accuses him with a smile on her lips.    

He grins. "Isn't it?" His grin fades as he points to the monitor. "The screen will show the results of people's answers to the question I am about to propose, but first, a preliminary question or two that will set up the main point."