Chapter 9

When I boarded Air Force Two I was in shock. The plane was beyond anything I could imagine, and I got a pang of guilt, thinking about the cost of it all. There was little time for guilt because my pilots were waiting for me at the door, anxious to welcome me aboard my plane, and see to my every need.

"Colonel Charles Farmer, Sir. I am your pilot. The first officer is Major Geoff Raines, and we are pleased to have our third flyer, Captain Audrey West, who is breaking in this month." Mr. Vice President, we are honored to have you aboard, Sir, and hope you'll let us know if we can serve you in any way."

I knew exactly how he would be serving me, and one day soon, I wanted to take the controls and learn to fly this massive, amazing bird. But, for today, I replied, "thank you Colonel. I look forward to a great flight," and excused myself to be led to my sitting area, and the famous, reclining chairs we've all seen in the movies.

They were as comfortable as they were complete. The chair was wired in every possible way, including a link to notify my agents if I stand up, that I am on the move. Rather than gawk like a tourist from Topeka, which I was, I quickly strapped in, accepted a glass of iced tea, and a small bowl of pretzels, emblazoned with the Air Force Two crest, and settled down for the flight home.

Steve Gross came forward and asked me if I knew that Rick Parnell was aboard. "I'm sorry, Steve, but who ordered Rick's weekend to be wrecked just because I decided to run home?"

"Mr. Vice President, Rick's bosses are terrified of you. Word has filtered out that you've been appointed as boss over all their agencies, and they are wetting their pants, right now. As soon as it was apparent that you were using Rick as your briefing officer, his section chief notified the Director, and he was assigned to your personal staff, while staying on their payroll.

"Sir, it's all a game, and they still think that they can play you. The sooner you put your foot down, the faster they will return to doing their jobs, instead of worrying about what you're thinking."

I chewed on that one for some time, and then said, "Send Rick forward, I need to deal with this and please put me in touch with his boss, but not until I'm done with Rick, Ok?"

Of course it was Ok. I was the Vice President. What was he going to say, "No way, bozo?"

Not very likely.

I looked up when Rick was shown in. "Rick, welcome to my private office. Please take a seat. First, I wish to apologize. I did not arrange for you to accompany me home to Kansas this weekend. Some people think they need to think ahead of me, or they think they can play me, by using you as a pipeline of information out of my office.

"So, here's the deal. You Work For Me. I don't care a fig what your bosses want, ask for, expect, or try to pressure you to give up. Meet my Secret Service, Special Agent in Charge, Steve Gross.

"Steve? Rick is in a tough spot. His bosses think they can make a plant out of him, using him like a listening device to bring them inside information. Do you understand how much I resent that? It is my plan to put a stop to this type of interagency warfare.

"Steve, I need for Rick to be free of outside interference, and able to fully engage in the task I've set before him. He can't do that as long as others are attempting to compromise him. Will you take charge and see to it that the person, or persons responsible for this are identified and delivered to me in time for a rather direct meeting I intend to have Monday morning.

"Can your people handle that?"

He was so all in. "Mr. Vice President, it will be an honor, Sir." He departed with Rick to get all the details and organize day one of the new, efficient, federal security services.

We landed and taxied up to a twin to Marine Two, and I quickly changed birds for the hop to my farm. Steve was with me, but Rick was nowhere to be seen. I asked and was told, "Your second tier staff will be ferried to a hotel near you, in Lawrence, where they will be available as you need, Sir."

"Steve. Who puts these types of arrangements together for me?" I had a notion to deal with this right now.

"That would be your appointment secretary, Charlene Willis, Sir."

"I assume she is here, yes?"

"Sir. Charlene did not make the trip. She puts your travel arrangements in order, circulates the itinerary and we all make it happen. Is there some way I can help with whatever you need Sir?"

"No. That's fine," I said, then turned to one of my assistants and said "Please get Jason for me."

He wasn't long in coming from the rear of the plane, to my chopper. "Jason, in the future I don't wish to be accompanied by an entourage more appropriate for a Roman Emperor, or Rap singer. When I go home to Kansas, anyone that I need to speak with can communicate with me by phone, and have their weekends to themselves.

"I realize you are not at all responsible for this, and that Charlene Willis makes these arrangements, but I do not want to drag people back and forth to Lawrence, Kansas just because I want to visit my farm. Please. Help me out, here."

"Of course, Mr. Vice President. And if I may, Sir? You will become the most popular Vice President in history if you really do plan to operate this way. We've all become fixtures, with no more worth than a folding chair, or a screwdriver. If you start acting like we're human beings, you will be smothered in good wishes."

So be it. The real responsibility of the job was starting to hit me. My every whim caused dozens, if not hundreds of people to give up their plans, just to make sure I wasn't even slightly inconvenienced. John Gray would have loved this part of the job. Correcting the notion that all those who serve the President and Vice President are nothing more than "things" would have turned him on. I just knew it would.

Mary rushed to greet me when Marine One wound down enough to make it safe. "Mr. Vice President. Welcome Home! We are so glad to see you." She stepped back and let me out of the helicopter.