A chapter from my latest book, “The Wizards of Oz.”

Hilary Clinton: Helen Stinson.

Paul Rand: Rand Paul




The Oval Office.  White House.


President Paul Rand was immersed in his work.  He want to hit the ground running and that meant learning protocols as well as keeping up with the flood of urgent businesses coming in every moment.  The on work on his desk was divided into three piles: one for high priority, one for urgent, and one for national and international emergencies.

It was only 10:00 a.m. and he was already on his third cup of coffee.  He was about to order another when he noticed his hand shaking.

“Not good,” he said to himself.

Paul got up and walked around the office, trying to regain his equilibrium.

He was of medium height with short curly hair and a wiry body like that of a long distance runner.  And he had, in fact, ran a long way to get to the office he now held.

He had light blue, grey eyes and a soft, kindly expression.  Some mistook that from naivety but were soon overwhelmed by a superior intellect and fiery determination.

He reflected on his journey to the presidency….his years in the state senate of Tennessee, the U.S. Senate where he started off in the smallest office and lowliest committees,, then onward to the Armed Service Committee and Bank committee where he was front and center during the banking crises of 2008.

He earned his wing and a shit load of respect for how he handled those crises.

But even that now paled to what he faced on daily basis as president.

Dan Goodwin, the president’s chief of staff, entered the office with another pile of papers.

That was not what President Paul wanted to see.

He winced visibly.

Dan saw it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, sir I know you’re already buried, but these are urgent messages from State, Defense, and Treasury that all need your immediate attention.”

Dan separated the piles and placed them in their appropriate baskets.

“Sir,” Dan began, “I think you ought to–.”

The speaker phone on Paul’s desk buzzed.

He pressed the button.  “Yes, Joan.”

“It’s Helen–.”

“Tell the cocksucker I’m here,” could be heard in the background.

“Have her wait a moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you think, Dan?” Paul asked his chief of staff.

“It has to be dealt with, sir.  A precedent has to be established.  Otherwise, the same behaviors will be repeated.”

“You make it sound like she was playing hooky from school,” Paul said, looking surprised at the way friend phrased his answer.

“No, sir. I didn’t mean it to sound trivial.  It’s anything but.”

“Then I follow through on this?” Paul asked, still debated whether to go though with the meeting and the subsequent actions.

“If you want to see that such people never enter politics again, and never have a clear path to the White House, then I think it’s absolutely necessary.”

President Rand mulled over what his chief of staff had said, but really didn’t need to spend any more time weighing the options and the virtues of the confrontation.

“Okay.  Bring her in.”

Dan nodded grimly then went out.

There was a brief delay, then the door opened and Dan escorted Helen over to a chair in front of the president’s desk.

“Welcome, Helen,” Paul said coolly.

“There really wasn’t an option, was there?”

“No, Helen.  If necessary, I would have ordered your own Secret Service patrol bring you in.”

“That would have set a very ugly precedent.”

“Ugly?” Paul repeated.

“Yes, I–.”

“Ugly is how I would describe every thing you ever did to get to the highest office in the land.”

“Oh, and you took the high road, I suppose?” Helen challenged.

“Higher than most.  But what I really did was just raise the bar a little.  Maybe whoever comes after me can raise it a little more.”

“And I lowered it?”

“You set it on the ground so you could step over it without lifting your feet.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

“No, Helen that is a fact.”

“Well I don’t need to be lectured by someone who’s just as flawed as me.”

“The only person as flawed as you was your husband.  The country’s still recovering from his tenure.”

“Am I my brothers’s keeper?” Helen sniggered.

“No, Helen, you’ll be judged on your own merits,” Paul replied.

“Oh, so you’re my judge?”

Paul held up a thick file.  ““If I handed this to a special prosecutor, you’d already be in prison.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“It would divide the country more than it already is.”

“Then what’s the purpose of all this?”

“You’re going to make a very public apology, then devote yourself to speaking out to schools and businesses and government agencies on the need for higher ethics in politics and government – for honesty and integrity.  For the need, the necessity of putting country before self.  In other words, all the things you didn’t do while you were in office.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I hand over the file to a special prosecutor who indicts you on a hundred charges and you spend the rest of your life in Leavenworth.  That means no hair dressers, clothes shopping, lying, stealing or cursing.”

“You’re bluffing.  You don’t have sufficient proof to get me indicted for shop lifting.”

“I didn’t even know you did that.  I’ll have to add that to the list.”

“You keep speaking about a list.  I don’t think you have Jack shit,” she said, getting up and starting for the door.

“Sit down!” Paul screamed.

Helen stopped in her tracks.

“You’re not going anywhere until we get through this.”

Helen acquiesced.  “Very well, Paul,” she said, retaking her seat.  “Let’s have it.”

“That you for your cooperation, Helen.”


Paul smiled at that remark.  he knew he struck a nerve.  During your husband’s campaign for the presidency, Will was fond of promising America, ‘You get two for the price of one,’ indicating you would act as his co-president.  But the nation got much more than it bargained for.

“From the moment you moved into the presidential mansion, the political scandals multiplied – from use of the IRS and FBI to target political opponents to stalking and harassing subjects of Will’s sexual advances and even attempts to loot taxpayer-funded items from the White House.  The American people and the Congress had to deal with Travel gate, China agate, File gate and Pardon gate instead of concentrating on the business of government.”

Helen laughed at that.

“Will’s sexual escapades and subsequent impeachment by the U.S. House of Representatives on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice consumed more than a year of American public life and bitterly divided the nation.”

“That was Will.  And that’s got nothing to do with me!”

“No, Helen.  You conspired with Will to cover up the scandals.  You’re up to your eyeballs in all of this,” Paul said, tapping the file.

“In the years since Will’s presidency, you brought your own scandals to the fore: Email gate and the Benghazi scandal, among others.

“In a recent pole, between forty-nine and fifty-six percent of voters believe you are neither honest nor trustworthy.”

“So what?  The presidency isn’t a beauty pageant.  Polls don’t mean shit.”

“Oh, but they do, Helen.  We owe it to the American people to present an image that projects honesty and integrity so that they will have faith in their government and follow its lead.”

“That’s fantasy, Paul.  You can’t get anything done in this town without shoving a greased pole up someone’s asss.”

“How did you manage to sink so low so quickly…at a time when the country needed great leadership, not only did you let the people down, but other countries no longer went along with American policy.

“That’s news to me,” Helen sniggered.

“Psychologists say, ‘The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.’  The country should have known you would be no different in your presidency than you were as senator and secretary of state, then president.”

“Stick the philosophy up you ass, Paul.  If you got something serious, shoot.”

“Very well, Helen.  First, you turned IRS into ‘Gestapo.’  You used the power of the IRS to harass and exact revenge on political enemies.  IRS audits were conducted against individuals and groups who caused problems for your administration.  Prominent conservative groups found themselves facing IRS audits following their criticism of you and your policies.

“Among the conservative groups targeted for audits were the Heritage Foundation, the National Rifle Association, Concerned Women of America, Citizens Against Government Waste, National Review, American Spectator, which was burglarized three times, the National Center for Public Policy Research, the American Policy Center, American Cause, Citizens for Honest Government, Progress and Freedom Foundation, David Horowitz’s Center for the Study of Popular Culture and the Western Journalism Center, the–.”

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Helen seethed.

“No, Helen, you don’t get it.  If you did it would have stopped there.  But that was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Individuals singled out for audits during the administration included all of the women Will sexual abused and assaulted, then political pundits such as Bill Riley who was audited three times during your presidency.

“You hired private investigators to not only dig up dirt on perceived adversaries: woman raped and abused by Will, you had them stalked, scared and threatened.”

“That’ll teach them not to fuck with the Stinsons,” Helen spewed.

“Those caught in the cross hairs of you and your husband said, and I quote, ‘They used mob-style intimidation campaign to keep us silent, even breaking into our homes to steal memoirs of the events.’”

“That’s bullshit.  We never–.”

“Never did it, or never got caught in the act?” Paul asked.


“The country never thought so.”

“Fuck the country.  What do they know…those lobotomized insects.”

“You claimed all the accusations were ‘Part of a vast right-wing conspiracy.’”

“That’s a fact, not an accusation,” Helen said defensively.

“A psychologist would say that such a statement indicates paranoid schizophrenia.”

“Oh, so now you‘re a clinical psychologist?”

“No.  Would you like me to call one in then have the results of the interview published in tomorrows Washington Post?”

“Okay, Rand.  You made you point.”

“When you left 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in 2001, you vandalized and looted the White House. You tried to ship furniture to your personal home in the Hamptons

“You tried to take over two hundred thousand dollars in gifts and furnishings from the presidential mansion.”

“It was stained with Will jism.  They would have thrown it away, or held it as evidence of his sexual exploits.  Either way it couldn’t be used any more.  Plus I wasn’t going to charge the government for the cost to move it.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you, Helen.”

“Yes, I thought you would–.”

“If you’re done with your poor attempt at humor, I will continue.  The General Accounting Office reported that you damaged, and vandalism the White House complex, included $4,850 to replace computer keyboards with damaged or missing “W” keys.

“During your time in the White House, you auctioned off and sold taxpayer-financed government goods and services in exchange for political campaign contributions and personal profit, including seats on overseas trade missions, export licenses for high technology sales to communist China and elsewhere, commissionerships and judgeships, rides on Air Force One, overnight stays in the White House’s Lincoln Bedroom, and even graves at Arlington Cemetery.”

“To the victors belong the spoils, Paul.”

“So the loser accrues the bills?”

“Ha!  I like that.  Can I use it?”

“I don’t think you’ll be laughing by the time we’re done, Helen.

“In’ File gate,’ you illegally obtained FBI files on perceived adversaries, most of who served in previous Republican administrations.  There were more than nine hundred requests for relevant files.

“The House Government Reform and Oversight Committee, which investigated the ‘Travel gate,’ found that the FBI files had been improperly accessed by a woman you hired…a former bouncer at a bar.

“My, my, but you’ve done your homework, Paul,” Helen complimented, and then laughed it off.

“I imagine you had no idea that woman belonged to a group which had a grand plan to mobilize U.S. Muslim minorities to transform America into a Saudi-style Islamic state?”

“I was too busy running the government to worry about what every one of my employees was doing,” Helen said.

“Yes, well her group was intent on spreading Islam instead of assimilating into the population – is a key strategy in an ongoing effort to establish Islamic rule in America and a global Sharia, or Islamic law, in our time.”

“That is a fantastical story, Paul.  Have you ever thought of writing for the ‘X Files’?”

“I’ll disregard that, Helen.  Let’s go on to Vic Forester, your deputy White House counsel and friend and law partner who had connections to the Travel gate and Whitewater scandals.  In 1993, Forester was found dead in a park with a fatal gunshot wound to his mouth.

“Investigations by the U.S. Park Police, the Department of Justice concluded Forester’s death was a suicide.  However, one key investigator challenged the official line, insisting the probe’s result was predetermined, only a few plotters were required to engineer the result, the crime scene was altered and that major newspaper editors killed stories by reporters pursuing the truth. The Washington Post reported that federal investigators were not allowed to enter Forester’s office after his death, but White House aides entered Forester’s office shortly after his death, giving rise to speculation that files were removed from his office.  What do you have to say about that, Helen?”

“Wasn’t me.  My hands are clean.”

“You mean they didn’t find your fingerprints at the scene of the crime?”

“You can take it any way you like.”

“I was only kidding when I asked you that, Helen.  I don’t have the stomach for any more of your lies right now.

“On the night of Forster’s death, you launched one of the most shameful and illegal cover-ups since J. Edgar Hoover’s files went missing shortly after his death.”

“I am humbled that you would place me such rarified company, Paul.”

“In addition, a White House staffer tampered with the titles of several memos and removed your initials in an effort to erase your role in improper behavior.  For that alone you should go to prison.”

“Thank god you are not judge, jury and executioner, Lord Paul,” Helen quipped.

“We shall see, Helen.  Now if I may….we come to e-mail-gate.  Where you kept all your official correspondence as secretary of state on a private email server located at her home – instead of using the government-mandated process while serving in the high appointed position.  Your email system was unsecured for months while you used it for government business, and you did not sign a standard agreement when you left office that promised you had left government property behind.

“All that while traveling to China, Egypt, Israel, Japan and South Korea.”

“You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill, Paul.  Com’on, you can do better than that.”

“Several present and former members of the U.S. intelligence community said your private email server was a major security risk, and America, going forward, ought to assume enemies of the state all had access to it.

“The fact that your name was right on the email handle meant this was not a difficult find.

“Many in the defense intelligence agency insist that you deserve prison time for insisting on an email system that clearly left the nation vulnerable to attack.

“You thought because you’re so smart or so clever or just don’t give a shit, that nothing’s going to happen and then something does, so it’s your fault.”

“You’re shooting at me with a water gun, Paul.  If that’s all you’ve got, we’re wasting time her.  I’ve got a soufflé in the oven and I’ll be really pissed if it falls.”

China gate…Helen.  Chinese technology companies made donations of millions of dollars to various Democratic Party entities, including your husband’s re-election campaign, in return for permission to sell high-tech secrets to China.

“One of those companies helped China to identify the cause of rocket failure, advancing China’s missile program and threatening U.S. national security.”

“They would have figured that out on their own,” Helen assured.  “In the mean time, one of our corporations made millions of dollars which was all subject to tax.

“During your husband’s tenure, you masterminded a scheme whereby his reelection campaign took bribes from communist Chinese banks and their government to bankroll Will’s and the Democratic Party’s re-election efforts when it appeared, due to their low standing in the polls, that all the stops needed to be pulled out.

“Then the total bullshit story of landing under sniper fire in Tuzla, Bosnia,” Paul suggested.

“I remember landing under sniper fire,” Hillary said.  “There was supposed to be some kind of a greeting ceremony at the airport, but instead we just ran with our heads down to get into the vehicles to get to our base.”

“But news footage of your visit revealed your ‘sniper fire’ claim wasn’t just exaggerated, it was completely false.  And you have repeated the claim several times, including during your time on the presidential campaign trail.”

“Perhaps your most egregious behavior was your response to the attacks on the US mission in Benghazi, Libya resulting in the deaths of four American citizens, including U.S. Ambassador J. Christopher Stevens.

“What difference, at this point does it make?” Clinton asked.

You were personally responsible for Ambassador Stevens being killed in the embassy in Benghazi.   You wanted the Benghazi “station”, which at the time was not an embassy, to be certified as such.  You sent Ambassador Stevens back into Libya to finish the paperwork upgrading the facility – before your eminent visit – to convert the shanty complex into a permanent mission as a symbol of the new Libya.  Stevens was up against a very specific funding deadline to complete an extensive survey of the mission so the compound could be converted.

“You wanted to cover up the fact weapons had been transferred through the station to the rebel forces in Syria fighting Basar al-Assad….who just happened to be al-Qaeda affiliated groups.

“Just days before the attack, the U.S., with Ambassador Stevens as the point man, secretly began a program to collect those weapons from radical groups.  You committed to providing forty million dollars to assist Libya’s efforts to secure and recover its weapons stockpiles.  One source said that Stevens was in Benghazi the very night of the attack ‘to negotiate a weapons transfer in an effort to get SA-7 missiles out of the hands of Libya-based extremists.’

“Adm. Brian L. Losey, former commander of the U.S. Special Operations Command in Africa, conceded in congressional testimony that prior to the Sept. 11, 2012, attack, he was not aware of the existence of the U.S. special mission in Benghazi or the nearby CIA annex.

“Because of the threat level in Libya, specifically Benghazi, there was the only person who could wave the travel restriction.  That one person was you.  The reason for the threat level being so high was due to the capture of a high level al-Qaeda leader the week before, not, as fabricated, a video defaming the Prophet Muhammad.

“You personally signed waivers that allowed the facility to be legally occupied, since it did not meet the minimum official security standards set by the State Department.

“Meanwhile due to that threat level, the embassy in Tripoli was packing up, smashing hard drives and shredding documents.

“Even when the station in Benghazi was under attack, you refused to send in the troops as that would send a bad message that Libya was not secure…and was not a shinning example of successful US policy.  General Ham as head of Africom received the same distress e-mails the White House received requesting help and support as the attack was taking place at the Benghazi station.  The General immediately had a rapid response unit ready and communicated to the Pentagon that he had a unit ready.  He then received the order to stand down…by orders from your State Department.  His response was to screw it; he was going to help anyhow.  Within thirty seconds to a minute after making the move to respond, his second in command apprehended General Ham and told him that he was now relieved of his command.

“Three reports circulated in the months before the attack.  Each report showed intelligence agencies warning the State Department  there was an al-Qaeda build-up in Benghazi.  One of those reports included photographs of more than three hundred al-Qaeda operatives in Martyr’s Square.  That is downtown Benghazi, less than a mile from the diplomatic outpost where the ambassador died.

“Those photographs showed the rebels waving guns.  There was a quote mentioned in the intelligence report in which the leader of al-Qaeda in Benghazi said, ‘If the U.S. doesn’t leave we were going to kill the U.S. ambassador.’


“Oh, no, Paul, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“I do?  Then explain it to me.”

“It was Mustafa’s Middle East policy, not mine,” Helen assured.

“Really?  He said you set the policy.”

“Who are you going to believe…a Black Muslim male or a White woman?”

“Hum, now that does make it more difficult.”

“You’re damn right it does.”

“So it was Yousef, not you who said, ‘We came, we bombed, he died’?”

“I only repeated the words his staff provided me.”

“You’re lying, Helen.”

“How can you, or anyone else, tell I’m lying?”

“Your lips are moving.”

“Funny, Paul.”

“No, Helen, the deaths of a million people is not funny.”

“Are we done yet?  I’ve got a hairdresser appointment,” she said, starting to get up.

Paul pressed a buzzer under his desk.

Seconds later, two secret service men entered the room.

“Sir?  You buzzed?”

“Yes, Helen wanted to go before we were done here.  What are your orders?”

“She doesn’t leave until you give the order, sir.”

“Thanks, Tom.  You can go.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Make sure that if there’s a shift change, the other men get the same order.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” he said, then left the office.

“Back to Benghazi…At a memorial service to the fallen you told Charles Woods, father of slain former Navy Seal Tyrone Woods, that ‘We will make sure that the person who made that film is arrested and prosecuted.’

“You believed that the parents of the slain Americans would empathize with your outrage at the filmmaker, rather than reserve their anger for the extremists who actually did the killing.  But as Mr. Woods said, he could tell that you were a lying sack of shit.’

“Are we done here, Paul?”

“Yes, Helen.  We are.

“Thank God.”

“You’ll have seven days to construct your speech to the American people: admitting to your crimes, answering all their questions, accepting responsibility, offer you sincere apology.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will turn these files over to the House committee to initiate an investigation into murder, perjury, fraud, conspiracy, and crimes against humanity.  You’ll spend the rest of your life in Leavenworth.”

“I’ll run it by my attorney,” Helen sniggered.

“Then he’ll be sharing an adjoining cell since all we discussed here is classified top secret.  I will have you imprisoned for the rest of your life, Helen.  And then I’ll go after Will and then every person important to you that was in any way, shape or form involved in your illegal activities or cover-up actions.”

Helen lost all the color in here face.  Finally realizing the extent of her crimes and the possible ramifications.

“Then I better get cracking,” she admitted.

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