Frank, Dean, Sammy, and Peter were back in Suite L-7 at Ceasar's, huddled around a circular table in the middle of which sat a speakerphone. From the phone crackled the bitter tones of the man who had brought them all together: Richard M. Nixon.
"Uh, Gentlemen," said the disembodied voice. "And Sammy. I've called you all here today for a very important reason. A cause as important as democracy itself. As you may well know, this is an election year..."
"Man, you know you've got my vote, man," said Sammy, with all seriousness.
"I, uh...well, of course, thank you," the voice of Nixon replied.
"When did you get the vote?" Dean slurred in Sammy's direction, prompting Peter to pipe in, "If you were running for king, I'd vote for you, sir."
Frank motioned the chatter silent. "Mr. President, just tell me this: where do you want me, and when do you want me there?"
There was a short pause on the other end of the line. Then the voice of the leader of the free world, brusk, cold, cut through the static:
"June 17. Democratic Party headquarters. Washington, D.C."
To Be Continued...
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