Step Aside, Mr. President.

Chapter 11 - October Surprise(s)

October 4, 2024

Ellis News Network broke the story first - their exclusive polling showed Eleanor Montgomery leading by comfortable margins in almost safe republican states like Iowa & Ohio. Three points in Iowa and two points Ohio. Even Texas, that eternal Democratic dream, seemed within reach.

"We're seeing a fundamental realignment," the pundit declared. "The Vice President's message is resonating across traditional Republican strongholds."

In the White House residence, Elizabeth inquired "What do you think of latest poll numbers? Democratic voters are... extremely confident." "Perhaps too confident," Nicholas quipped, an unreadable calm on his face. "Tell me, Lizzie, what happens to voter turnout when a base believes victory is assured?" Elizabeth smiled

October 6, 2024

It was as if fate itself conspired to ensure Eleanor's downfall. An assassination attempt on Matthew Fitzgerald had thrust him into the spotlight, and the image of him defiantly raising his fist—a symbol of resilience—captivated the nation.

Fitzgerald, a man who had weathered countless storms, from surviving a barrage of legal battles thrown at him by Federal Attorney General, five District Attorneys across 5 states and two State Attorney General were fighting legal cases against him to build up their own careers , his allies in Republican Party abandoning him publicly and now an attempt on his life, stood as an unshakable force.

In stark contrast, when Eleanor was asked what she would do differently from the President, her tepid response—"Nothing comes to mind"—left voters perplexed. If she had no plans to diverge from the incumbent's path, why should she even be in the race? Shouldn't the current President remain on the ballot instead?

October 12, 2024

The WikiLeaks drop came at 3 AM - a fifteen-second audio snippet that would shake the campaign: Eleanor Montgomery's voice, crisp and dismissive, "The rural voters are easier to handle. A few pictures on a farm, some talk about family values, and they fall in line like sheep."

By sunrise, the clip was everywhere. Rural radio stations across Iowa, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania played it on loop. Local news channels ran footage of Eleanor's campaign visits to farms and county fairs alongside the audio, creating a devastating contrast.

October 15, 2024

"The polling impact is... minimal," Patricia Fisher reported during an emergency DNC meeting, sounding almost relieved. "We're down two points nationally, but still leading comfortably in swing states."

"We need to release a public statement clarifying that her comments were taken out of context," a staffer suggested. "Absolutely!" Patricia Fisher chimed in, her exhaustion from the past few days evident. "Emphasize that buying into this manufactured drama only serves Fitzgerald's facist, sexist and racist agenda, forget about our promise of running a campaign of joy and love call him hitler if needed. Double down on messaging about making history with the first female president—lean into that narrative and how Vice President is a great and selfless public servant."

October 23, 2024

The second recording dropped like a thunderbolt: "Those rust belt union dinosaurs have been giving me grief anyway. Acting like I need to earn their support. As if they have anywhere else to go."

In the Vice President's campaign war room, Eleanor paced like a caged tiger. "Find the leak. Now."

Her campaign manager, Jennifer Harris, looked up wearily from her laptop. "We've already fired Sarah from accounting and those two junior staffers from communications—"

"Then fire more!" Eleanor snapped, then forced herself to lower her voice.

Eleanor took the stage at a hastily arranged press conference, her jaw set defiantly. "Everyone knows who I am and what I stand for," she declared. "Unlike Matthew Fitzgerald, who inherited his wealth and bought his way into politics, I've worked for everything I've achieved. He's nothing but a silver-spoon charlatan playing at being a man of the people."

In his Mar-a-Lego office, Fitzgerald watched her speech with growing satisfaction as his phone lit up with supporter messages. His campaign manager burst in: "Sir, our small-donor contributions just exploded. Her attack energized our entire base."

"Lets release some new attack adds, now seems the best possible time to hammer her during the final sttretch." Matthew Fitzgerald ordered his campaign team.

October 28, 2024

The early voting numbers hit Eleanor's desk like a lead weight. Democratic turnout was collapsing across the board. The false confidence from those inflated polls had backfired spectacularly.

"It doesn't make sense," Eleanor muttered, pacing her campaign office. "Our numbers were solid. The leaks barely moved them. How are we hemorrhaging voters?" She stopped at her desk, drumming her fingers on the polished wood. "Let's hit that pompous pig Fitzgerald on that comedian from his rally - the one who called Puerto Rico garbage. Pin it on him."

Nicholas watched the growing social media storm with calculated interest. Left-leaning outlets were already amplifying the controversy, exactly as expected. The next day, when a reporter during an interview asked him for a comment, Nicholas delivered his lines with practiced indignation.

"Absolutely despicable of Fitzgerald to allow this. I've met many Puerto Ricans in my home state and during my time in Congress. The only garbage I see is his supporters."

The comment spread like wildfire, exactly as Nicholas had hoped. Nicholas's press secretary even made sure the official transcript included a strategic apostrophe - "his supporters'" - providing just enough plausible deniability.

This comment dismantled Eleanor's momentum. But Fitzgerald, ever the showman, turned it into political theater. He held a press conference from the back of a garbage truck, grinning for the cameras. "Some folks think hardworking Americans are trash," he declared. "I think they're the backbone of this nation."

Eleanor watched the footage in mounting horror as her attempted trap backfired spectacularly. In his private study, Hayes allowed himself a small smile. Another piece had fallen perfectly into place.

November 5, 2024

In his private study, Hayes reviewed the same numbers on his secure phone. He opened his calendar and looked at November 5th – Election Day. Below it, in his precise handwriting, was a single word: "Checkmate."

On his desk lay another recording from that summer day in the Oval Office, saved for the final week - Eleanor discussing minority outreach as "necessary theater" because "they're reliable Democratic voters anyway."

Patricia Fisher ignored a notification on her phone, where a simple text from an unknown number read: "Pride goeth before destruction."

They'd been so focused on forcing out a president they saw as frail, they never stopped to consider that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as weak as he seemed.