Chapter 36: Russia

“Come in,” Polk called as someone knocked at her door. She looked up, smiling to see her old friend Greg Woodward.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he spoke quietly, “but...regarding my promotion…”

“Ah yes,” she said, looking out with a grin, “how have you enjoyed your new position so far?”

“About that,” he said, shuffling his feet, “it seems…it seems as if Buchanan has retracted my offer.”

Polk continued smiling without any noticeable change in her expression.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she spoke up, “but I’m afraid I must have misheard you just now. Could you please go and repeat yourself?”

“Buchanan, ma’am…he retracted my promotion.”

“…I see.”

Without saying a word, Polk stepped out of her office, marching on down the hall until she reached Buchanan’s quarters.

“H-hi there, Polk,” Buchanan stammered as Polk walked into his room unannounced. “W-what—?”

“Buchanan!” she screamed as she stood directly in front of his face. “What the hell is this business with Woodward about?”

“O-O-O-Oh,” he stuttered, “I-I-I just thought Read would be a better fit for the position, so I went ahead and—”

“Listen here!” Polk shouted, pulling Buchanan by the collar. “I am responsible for my appointments; and I will not surrender that power to anyone else!”

She dropped Buchanan to the ground and walked away in a fit. She continued walking until she reached the Party’s tavern where she bought herself a drink and took a seat by herself in the corner. A few minutes later, someone pulled up a chair besides her.

“Having a rough day?” Hank Pierce asked.

Polk maintained her stoic silence.

“I heard about the little spat you had with Buchanan,” Pierce spoke with a cough. “Everyone has, actually.”

“…I just want him out of here!” Polk lamented, staring deep into her drink. “I even offered him that darn desk job he pleaded with me to have just so I could get him out of my hair! But you know what he said to me after I offered it to him?”

She glared at Pierce.

“That he’d think about it.” She shook her head. “Honestly, Buchanan may be an able man, but he is completely without judgement!”

“Easy there,” he said, patting her back, “I can see this is really starting to get to you, so why don’t you go ahead and take a little break while I take care charge of the new guy for a bit.”

Polk gave a reluctant look to Pierce.

“…are you quite sure about this?”

Pierce gave a handsome grin.

“From my own experience,” he explained, “I know how scary it is to join a Party as renowned as the Jacksonains! I’m certain that Buchanan’s blunders so far have just been from a mixture of nervous excitement. Trust me,” he said as he stepped out of the bar, “I’ll have Buchanan calmed down before the week is through!”

The next week, Polk spotted Pierce in the base’s common area lying on his back.

“…so,” Polk asked cautiously, “how’s Buchanan doing?”

Pierce turned to her, a set of dark bags hanging under his usually glimmering eyes.

“It was a mistake to try sending him to a desk job…we need to send him somewhere much farther than that.”

Polk tilted her head.

“What…what all do you mean?”

“We should send him to Britain,” Pierce spoke with dead seriousness.

Polk looked down in thought, then gave a silent nod her head.

“Let’s do it.”

“Soldiers!” a voice boomed from behind.

Polk and Pierce turned their heads, giving a quick salute as Jackson stomped towards them.

“I’m severely disappointed by your lack of resolve!” Jackson continued. “I know that Buchanan can be a handful, but he’s tremendously strong when he puts his mind to something! We can’t let him slip out of our grasps just because he’s a little difficult to work with from time to time.”

She looked to Polk and Pierce with a solemn glare.

“More importantly,” she spoke quietly but sternly, “Buchanan is officially a part of our family now, and above else, the Jacksonians never abandon family under any circumstances. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am…” the two replied meekly.

Jackson gave them each a hard pat on the back, her friendly shove nearly toppling the two of them over from its force.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Jackson said with a smirk as she gave a crack of her wrists. “I’ll have Buchanan whipped into shape before you know it!”

The next day, Polk and Pierce ran into Jackson wandering aimlessly through the halls.

“So,” Polk asked, “about Buchanan…”

Jackson stared at the two of them, then gave a heavy sigh.

“Britain’s too close,” she replied. “Let’s send him to Russia.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the present, Polk, Pierce, and Jackson gave a collective shake of their heads.

“We made the right decision,” they spoke in unison.

Back in the arena, Taft looked to the timers on the stadium screens. Only seconds remained for Johnson to break free of the iron prison, and it didn’t seem like he’d be doing so anytime soon. Taft nodded to himself, lifting his gavel up into the air.

“It would appear…” Taft started to announce, then stopped as he heard a faint ringing sound coming from within the prison walls.

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Buchanan’s Flashback II. In addition to the annoyances mentioned in the last chapter, James Buchanan also tried undermining one of James Polk’s judge appointments (namely that of Woodward), and when James Polk offered James Buchanan a long sought after position on the Supreme Court, James Buchanan replied that if he couldn’t have the position immediately that he would need some more time to decide (and ultimately he ended up deciding not to accept it).

Frank Pierce did appoint James Buchanan to Minister of the UK, though I don’t think this was due to any sense of animosity. Andrew Jackson, on the other hand, definitely appointed James Buchanan to Minister of Russia out of hatred, largely due to Andrew believing that James backstabbed him in his Presidential race against John Quincy Adams and Henry Clay. In fact, Andrew would go on to say that Russia “was as far as I could send him out of my sight, and where he could do the least harm. I would have sent him to the North Pole if we kept a minister there.”