The Confirmation by Ralph Reed Page A

medical condition.”
    â€œBut we can always hope,” joked Morris.
    â€œRoss Lombardy called,” said the chief of staff, changing subjects. “He wants to give us some names.”
    â€œGet them from Andy’s legal eagle, not Lombardy.” Golden’s eyes widened and his face lit up. “By the way, Andy got in my face at the inaugural—backstage at the Faith and Family celebration—and told me that God had told him there would be a vacancy very soon.” He shook his head in wonder, chuckling. “I don’t know if he’s a prophet or clairvoyant.”
    â€œDon’t you know Stanton’s got a direct pipeline to God?” laughed Morris. “Either that, or Mars.”
    Golden rose from his chair, signaling the meeting was over. “Gentlemen, organize your team and make assignments.” He smiled wryly. “I recommend you order in some pizza because I suspect you’ll be pulling some all-nighters.”
    CHRISTY LOVE PUT DOWN her ever-present can of Diet Dr. Pepper and rapped on the table. The casual conversations wafting through the room abruptly stopped. The lawyers—she called them her hired guns—sat around the conference table, yellow legal pads open, pens poised, earnest expressions on every face. The communications and political staff lined the wall in chairs. They were puffed up like blowfish, ready to attack. The tension in the room was thick. Everyone’s adrenal glands were wide open.
    â€œOkay, folks, this is the real deal,” Love announced grandiloquently, hands on hips. “This is not a drill. Justice Franklin is in our thoughts, and we hope he pulls through. He’s tough, and he’s gotten through worse than this before. But should there be a vacancy, as much as we hope there won’t be, we have to be prepared for the mother of all confirmation battles.” She looked around the table. “Is the press release out yet?”
    â€œDone. We shot that out fifteen minutes after the AP bulletin on Franklin,” answered the communications director, beaming. “We’ve got more than two hundred press calls. You have interviews lined up with NBC, CNN, Fox News, and the BBC.”
    â€œCNN is setting up in your office now,” Love’s assistant reported.
    â€œGood,” said Love. “The message is: we hope there won’t be a vacancy, but if there is, we’re ready. The stakes could not be higher, and if the Long administration tries to play politics with the Supreme Court, we will oppose them with every resource at our disposal.”
    â€œWe’re locked and loaded,” said one of the lawyers.
    Christy shot him a withering look. “Off message. This is Pro-Choice PAC, not the NRA, for crying out loud!” The room broke into nervous laughter at Christy’s trademark cutting wit.
    â€œThe Faith and Family Federation issued a release saying that Franklin was in their prayers,” offered someone in the back of the room, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
    â€œGag me,” said Love. “Stanton makes me want to puke.” She turned to her lead staff attorney. “Do we have the legal research on all the likely candidates?”
    â€œWe do,” the counsel reported to the group. “We have dossiers on all of the candidates. We’re more ready than we’ve ever been.”
    Love nodded approvingly. “People, there’s no margin for error,” she warned. “Bob Long won the White House with the religious right and angry white males. It’s payback time.” She paused, surveying every face. “We’re the only thing standing between the American people and the shredding of the Constitution.” Her eyes sparkled with intensity. She clapped her hands together twice. “Let’s get to work and fight for women’s rights like our whole lives depended on it. Because they do.”
    The room broke into loud applause. Someone