meeting was to accomplish and had merely agreed to meet out of respect for Senator Eastman and General Gates. What had been voiced was nothing short of mind numbing.
Finally General Holland collected the brief and stood up. “Obviously a proposal of this magnitude will take some time to consider. I must confess I find it somewhat interesting.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Dick Henghold agreed, his face looking a little flushed as he stood as well.
“There are a number of players in other facets of this plan. I don’t want to push you, but I’ll need an answer as to whether you can back this or not in the next forty-eight hours,” Elliott softly explained.
“I’ll need to run this by the President,” General Holland advised.
“I’ve already spoken to him. I think he’s on our side,” Elliott responded. “But do as you see fit. You know how to reach us. Good day.”
Elliott strode from the room with General Robert Gates beside him.
Once they were in the corridor Gates couldn’t suppress his enthusiasm. “Good lord Elliott. You blew them away. Hell, you blew me away. That plan would change the world as we know it.”
“I think it will. It’s really nothing new. Most of the plan has been kicked around in various forms for years.”
“A tax on derivatives, commodities and futures transactions, I’ve never heard of such a thing. I say it’s brilliant!”
“Actually, England has had a half percent tax on her stock transactions for years,” Elliott added, “and it generates about 40 billion a year in revenue.”
“Oh, still, it was a master stroke. And a National Referendum?”
“Actually, we can’t initiate a National Referendum without an approval from Congress, but there are about 29 states that already have approved state referendums over the years.”
“Still, just the threat of a National Referendum will start them shaking in their boots on Capitol Hill. It’s the perfect approach. The power is with the people, or so the constitution would have us believe, so let them vote directly on the issue.”
“It’s just a dream at the moment Bob, but perhaps someday. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t like the way both Holland and Henghold backed off so quickly. It was as if they were worried someone might have been listening in,” Elliott replied as he climbed into the limo again. “It was as if they were suddenly handed a hot potato and wanted nothing to do with it.”
“I think you’re reading too much into it. I think they were just dumb struck by the scope and boldness of the plan.”
“You know, with Twitter and texting I wonder if maybe the time has come for a National Referendum,” Elliott mused out loud.
General Gates laughed. “Don’t go pushing your luck there kiddo. They would have to work out some way of verifying the votes were legit, rather than one kid sending in a couple thousand text messages an hour.”
Elliott smiled. “I think you may be right. We’re a couple of years ahead of ourselves, but I could see a text message or e-mail including a PIN number to vote becoming a reality in a few years. Thanks for helping out.”
“It’s the least I can do,” the General responded, glancing at Elliott as he climbed out of the limo. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I don’t feel so hot either. I’m just tired. Very, very tired.”
Chapter Twelve
It was late afternoon when Elliott let himself into the Colorado ranch house and laid his car keys on the vestibule table. Slowly he walked over to the bar in the living room and poured a stiff double shot of scotch. The pain in his side came and went, but seemed to be lingering longer each time. Elliott pressed a speed dial button on his phone and then hung up.
A moment later, the longtime ranch hand Greer knocked discreetly on the den door.
“Come in.”
Greer stepped into the room, removed his cowboy hat and lowered it hesitantly to chest level. Elliott studied the sun bronzed wiry old man for a moment.
Finally General Holland collected the brief and stood up. “Obviously a proposal of this magnitude will take some time to consider. I must confess I find it somewhat interesting.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Dick Henghold agreed, his face looking a little flushed as he stood as well.
“There are a number of players in other facets of this plan. I don’t want to push you, but I’ll need an answer as to whether you can back this or not in the next forty-eight hours,” Elliott softly explained.
“I’ll need to run this by the President,” General Holland advised.
“I’ve already spoken to him. I think he’s on our side,” Elliott responded. “But do as you see fit. You know how to reach us. Good day.”
Elliott strode from the room with General Robert Gates beside him.
Once they were in the corridor Gates couldn’t suppress his enthusiasm. “Good lord Elliott. You blew them away. Hell, you blew me away. That plan would change the world as we know it.”
“I think it will. It’s really nothing new. Most of the plan has been kicked around in various forms for years.”
“A tax on derivatives, commodities and futures transactions, I’ve never heard of such a thing. I say it’s brilliant!”
“Actually, England has had a half percent tax on her stock transactions for years,” Elliott added, “and it generates about 40 billion a year in revenue.”
“Oh, still, it was a master stroke. And a National Referendum?”
“Actually, we can’t initiate a National Referendum without an approval from Congress, but there are about 29 states that already have approved state referendums over the years.”
“Still, just the threat of a National Referendum will start them shaking in their boots on Capitol Hill. It’s the perfect approach. The power is with the people, or so the constitution would have us believe, so let them vote directly on the issue.”
“It’s just a dream at the moment Bob, but perhaps someday. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t like the way both Holland and Henghold backed off so quickly. It was as if they were worried someone might have been listening in,” Elliott replied as he climbed into the limo again. “It was as if they were suddenly handed a hot potato and wanted nothing to do with it.”
“I think you’re reading too much into it. I think they were just dumb struck by the scope and boldness of the plan.”
“You know, with Twitter and texting I wonder if maybe the time has come for a National Referendum,” Elliott mused out loud.
General Gates laughed. “Don’t go pushing your luck there kiddo. They would have to work out some way of verifying the votes were legit, rather than one kid sending in a couple thousand text messages an hour.”
Elliott smiled. “I think you may be right. We’re a couple of years ahead of ourselves, but I could see a text message or e-mail including a PIN number to vote becoming a reality in a few years. Thanks for helping out.”
“It’s the least I can do,” the General responded, glancing at Elliott as he climbed out of the limo. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I don’t feel so hot either. I’m just tired. Very, very tired.”
Chapter Twelve
It was late afternoon when Elliott let himself into the Colorado ranch house and laid his car keys on the vestibule table. Slowly he walked over to the bar in the living room and poured a stiff double shot of scotch. The pain in his side came and went, but seemed to be lingering longer each time. Elliott pressed a speed dial button on his phone and then hung up.
A moment later, the longtime ranch hand Greer knocked discreetly on the den door.
“Come in.”
Greer stepped into the room, removed his cowboy hat and lowered it hesitantly to chest level. Elliott studied the sun bronzed wiry old man for a moment.
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