the book of fate
\"I shouted and chased-
The old man in the Navyblue suit.
While I was running, the Florida heat stuck my shirt to my chest.
Ron Boyle ignored me and rushed onto the tarmac, passing through Air Force One on our right and 18 cars from the fleet
The file line on our left
He was always in a hurry as deputy chief of staff.
This happens when you work for the most powerful people in the world.
I don\'t say that easily.
Our boss is commander in chief.
President of the United States.
When he wants something, my job is to get it.
Now, President Manning wants Boyle to stay calm.
I can\'t even finish some tasks.
As he shuttled among a group of staff, speeding up and putting pressure on their designated car, Boyle roared past a shiny black Chevrolet suburb, it was packed with Secret Service agents and ambulances, with a pint of President\'s blood in the car.
Earlier today, Boyle should have a 15-year-old. minute sit-
Talking to the president on Air Force One.
He\'s now down to three because my schedule is wrong-minute drive-
Briefing sometime this afternoon.
Saying that he was annoyed, like saying in the office that the Great Depression was a bad day. \"Ron!
\"I said it again and put my hand on his shoulder trying to apologize. \"Just wait. I wanted to-
\"He rotated wildly and beat my hand out.
Fine and sharp-
Boyle has a thick beard designed to offset the effects of both, his hair is gray, his skin is olive, his eyes are brown, and each iris has a light blue color.
As he tilted forward, the eyes of his cat glared down at me.
\"Don\'t touch me again unless you shake hands with me,\" he threatened, hitting my cheek with a drool.
I clenched my teeth and rubbed them with my back.
Of course, it\'s my fault for the scheduling problem, but it\'s still not t-
\"Now, exactly what is so important, Wes, or does this remind us again that when we are having dinner with the President, we need to give you our lunch order at least an hour in advance?
The voice was loud enough, he added, so several Secret Service agents turned around.
Any other twentythree-year-
The old man will swing his hand verbally. I kept my cool.
This is the job of the presidential assistant. . . a. k. a.
People of the body. . . a. k. a. the buttboy.
Let the president get what he wants.
Keep the machine humming.
\"Let me compensate you,\" I canceled my apology in my heart.
If I want Boyle to be quiet
If we don\'t want a scene for the media
I need to raise the stakes. \"What if I . . .
What if I put you in the president\'s limo now?
\"When Boyle began to tighten his suit coat, his posture was slightly raised.
I thought you-No, good. Great. Excellent.
He even drew pictures on a small smile. Crisis averted.
He thought everything was forgiven.
My memory is much longer than that.
When Boyle turned triumphantly to the limo, I took down another note. Cocky bastard.
On his way home, he will sit behind the reporter\'s van.
I\'m not just good in politics. I was great. That\'s not ego;
This is the truth.
You do not apply for the job and you are invited to the interview.
Every young political gunman in the White House will sacrifice to be close to the leader of the free world.
From here on, my predecessor became number two in the White House press office.
The previous White House predecessor managed 4,000 people at IBM.
Seven months ago, the president chose me even though I had no connections.
I defeated the son of a senator and a pair of Rhodes scholars.
Of course I can handle my temper.
Throw the senior staff.
\"Wes, let\'s go!
\"The Secret Service detail leader shouted, and as he slid into the front passenger seat, he waved to us, where he could see that everything was coming.
I dragged Boyle, put my leather shoulder bag in front of me and jumped into the back of the armored limousine, the president wearing a black trench coat and jeans and casually.
I thought Boyle would start talking right away, but he was surprisingly silent when he passed in front of the president.
Boyle\'s suit coat was opened when he went to the rear left seat, but he quickly put his hand on his heart and kept it closed.
It was not until later that I realized what he had hidden.
Or I just did something by inviting him in.
Behind him, I squatted to one of the three fold --
Downward seat facing the rear of the car. Mine was back-to-
Come back with the driver, across from Boyle.
For security reasons, the president always sits in the back right seat, and the first lady sits between him and Boyle.
Jump seat directly across from the Presidentthe hot seat-
Has been taken away by retired professional racing driver Mike karinov
Time Winston Cup champion, special guest for today\'s event. No surprise.
Only four months from the election, we are only three percentage points ahead of the polls.
When the crowd was so fickle, there was only one fool who entered the gladiator\'s ring without hidden weapons.
\"So she\'s fast even if she has a body armor?
The champion asked at midnight.
Blue interior of Cadillac one.
Manning replied: \"The lightning of lubrication . \" The first lady turned her eyes.
Finally, Boyle took the seat forward and opened a manila folder. \"Mr.
President, if you can. ? \" \"Sorry-
\"That\'s all I can do, sir,\" interrupted Warren Allbright, chief of staff, jumping in.
In the President\'s newspaper, he sat in the middle seat opposite the first lady and, more importantly, opposite Manning. Even in a six-
People are in the back seat. it\'s very important to be close.
Particularly Boyle, he still turned to the president and refused to give up his opening remarks.
The president grabbed the newspaper and carefully checked the crossword game he and AllBright shared every day.
From the first day of the campaign, this is their tradition --
Albright is always sitting in the mouth-watering seat opposite the President.
Albright starts every puzzle, does what he can, and then gives it to the president and crosses the finish line.
When I put the bag on my leg, the president pointed out: \"It\'s not right under fifteen . \". \"Stifle.
\"When Manning finds a mistake, Albright is usually annoying.
Today, when he noticed Boyle in the corner seat, he had some brands --
New people who are annoyed.
Is everything okay?
I asked at a glance.
Before Albright could answer, the driver hit the accelerator and my body jumped forward.
Three and a half minutes from now, the first shot will start.
The two of us will crash and twitch on the floor.
Can\'t get up alone
\"Sir, can I bend your ears?
Boyle interrupted him more persistently than before.
\"Can\'t you enjoy it, Ron?
\"The first lady joked that when we met a divot on the road, her short brown hair floated.
Despite the sweet tone, I saw the dazzling light on her leaves --green eyes.
This is the same look she gave students at Princeton.
Former professor, PhD in chemistry
The first lady received tough training. And what Dr.
What the first lady wants
The first lady fought for it. And got.
\"But, ma\'am, it just needs-
Her brows were so tightly locked that she kissed her eyebrows. \"Ron. Enjoy the ride.
Most people stop here.
Boyle worked harder to try to hand over the documents directly to Manning.
He has known the president since they were in their twenties studying at Oxford University.
As a professional banker and a collector of antique magic, he later managed all Manning\'s money, which in itself was a magic trick.
Until today, he was the only employee present when Manning married the first lady.
When the media found out that Boyle\'s father was a convicted little swindler, this gave him a free pass (twice)
This is the free pass he used to test the authority of the first lady in his limo.
But even the best free pass will eventually expire.
Manning shook his head so skillfully that he could only be seen with trained eyes.
A first ladyBoyle, nothing.
After closing the folder, Boyle sinks back and shoots at me, the kind of expression that leaves bruises.
It\'s my fault now.
As we approached our destination, Manning stared at us silently through the light green tones of his bulletproof window.
\"Have you heard what Kennedy said three hours before he was shot?
He asked with his best Massachusetts accent.
\"You know, it would be a hell of a night to kill a president last night. \" \"Lee!
The first lady gave a scolding.
\"How do I deal with it?
She added, pretending to be laughing at Calinoff.
The president took her hand and glanced at me.
\"Wes, did you bring the gift I gave him? Calinoff? \" he asked.
I flipped through my bag.
Bag of Tricks-
Don\'t Take My Eyes off Manning\'s face.
He nodded slightly to his wrist and made a stroke.
Don\'t give him the tie clip. . .
To buy something big.
I was his assistant for more than seven months.
If my job is right, we don\'t have to talk to each other for communication.
We are in a slot.
I couldn\'t help laughing.
That was my last big smile.
Three minutes later, the gunner\'s third bullet would tear off my cheek and destroy many of my nerves, and I would never make the most of my mouth again.
That\'s it. The president nodded to me.
From my bag full of everything the president needs, I took out an official presidential cuff that I handed over to Mr. Obama.
Calinoff, he likes every second in the fold
Sitting down was totally uncomfortable.
\"These are true,\" the president told him.
\"Don\'t put them on eBay.
\"This is the same joke he used every time he gave away a set.
We all laughed.
Even Boyle began scratching his chest.
There is no better place to joke with the president of the United States.
In Daytona, Florida, on July 4, when you came in by plane and shouted, \"Gentlemen, start your engine!
\"In the legendary Pepsi 400 NASCAR game, there is no better back seat in the world than this.
Before Calinoff said thank you.
Your limo stopped.
We flashed a red lightning on the left.
Two police motorcycles with sirens ringing.
They are jumping from behind the team to the front.
Like a funeral.
\"Don\'t tell me they\'re closed on the road,\" the first lady said . \".
She hated it when they closed the traffic for the team.
This is the vote we can never get back.
The car traveled slowly a few feet forward.
\"Sir, we are about to enter the track,\" the detail leader announced on the passenger seat.
Outside, the concrete opening of the airport runway quickly gave way to rows of heights.
End the car coach. \"Wait . . .
We\'re on the track?
Calinoff asked suddenly excitedly.
He took a turn in his seat and wanted to see outside.
The president grinned.
\"Do you think we will find a few seats in front of us?
The wheels pop up on a Dingle metal plate that sounds like a loose manhole cover.
Boyle has more chest scratches.
There was a rumbling voice in the air. \"That thunder?
Boyle looked up at the blue sky and asked.
\"No, not Ray,\" the president replied, as the crowd of 200,000 people in the stadium waved banners, flags and arms to his feet, he reached the bulletproof window with his fingertips. \"Applause.
\"Ladies and gentlemen, President of the United States!
The announcer made a loud noise through the radio. A. system. A sharp right-
When the limo turned to the racecourse, the hand turn pulled us all aside, the biggest and best paved highway I \'ve ever seen in my life.
\"The way you came here was good,\" the president said to Calinoff, leaning against a custom plush leather seat --
The rest is the big entrance.
If we don\'t understand this, the 200,000 ticket holders in the stadium, plus 10 million viewers watching at home, plus 70 viewers
The 5 million fans dedicated to NASCAR will go and tell their friends, neighbors, cousins and strangers in the super city, and we will go and be baptized and sneeze in the holy water.
But that\'s why we brought the team.
We don\'t need eighteen cars.
The runway at Daytona airport is actually adjacent to the racecourse.
There is no red light to run.
There is no traffic to stop.
But for all the people watching. .
Have you seen the president\'s convoy on the runway?
I don\'t care how close we are in the polls.
In a circle, we will choose seats for the inauguration.
Across the street from me, Boyle was not so excited.
His arms crossed his chest and the study of the president never stopped.
\"The stars are coming out, right?
\"As we entered the final round, Calinoff asked, he saw our welcome board, a group of NASCAR drivers wearing multi-color ads --
Jumpsuit with arms
What he did not notice with his untrained eyes was a dozen more straight \"crew\" than others \".
Some people have backpacks.
Some are leather satay.
A person is talking with his own wrist. Secret Service.
Like everyone else.
In the limo, Calinoff is licking the glass almost. \"Mr.
Calinoff, you go out first, \"I told him when we drove the car into the pit.
Outside, drivers are already fighting for the presidency.
In 60 seconds, they will run for their own lives.
Calinoff leaned against my door and all NASCAR drivers were crowded there.
I leaned over to block him and motioned to the president\'s door on the other side.
\"That\'s it,\" I said.
Right next to him.
\"But the driver is over there,\" Calinoff objected . \".
\"Listen to the boy,\" the president interjected, pointing to the door of Calinoff.
When President Clinton competed in the NASCAR competition a few years ago, the audience booed.
When President Bush arrived in 2004 with a team of legendary driver Bill Elliott, Elliott first came out and the crowd broke out.
Even the president can open his remarks.
With a click, the detail leader presses a small safety button under the door handle and lets him open the armor
Through the door from the outside.
Within a few seconds, the door cracked, two light and Florida hot switch blades crossed the car, and Calinoff put a pair of his handmade cowboy boots on the sidewalk.
Welcome four, please.
Time Winston Cup champion. .
The announcer shouted at the stadium.
The crowd became crazy.
\"Never forget,\" the president whispered to his guests as Calinoff walked up to 200,000 screaming fans.
\"That\'s what we came to see.
\"Now,\" continued the announcer, \"the grand marshal of our game today --Florida\'s own . . .
President Leeeee maaaanning!
\"Right behind Calinoff, the president jumped out of the car, his right hand waved, and his left hand proudly patted the NASCAR logo on the chest of his trench coat.
He paused for a moment to wait for the first lady.
As usual, you can read the lips of each fan in the stands. There he is . . . There he is . . .
They are there. . .
Then, as soon as the crowd digested it, the flash hit. Mr.
Here, President! Mr. President . . . !
He barely moved three steps when Albright followed him, and Boyle followed. (Continues. . . )
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