It started when a certain buff female West Point grad, out
of the Army and into Harvard, sidled up to a certain General at a post-lecture
dinner to fawn and flatter. They exchanged cards and email addresses. The relationship
blossomed over time, as she got tongues wagging among the press and the General's aides about why she was getting such unusual "access" to the supreme commander of our troops in Afghanistan.
After Paula Broadwell was booted out of her Harvard Ph. D.
program, she gave new meaning to the term “embedded”. She was summoned to
Afghanistan for desert run “interviews” with her new “mentor”. (I’m still
waiting for the post run shower scene. There must have been a lot of dust to
wash off.)
She turned her Harvard spurned dissertation into a book with
the clever sexually charged name “All In”, and got a six figure advance, but only with the help of a ghost
writer (I only thought celebrities needed ghost writers, but she
was just planning ahead to future notoriety, I suppose).
Paula’s book tour featured arm and shoulder baring tops, no
doubt to distract the likes of Jon Stewart from asking her to define
“embedded”.
She gave speeches bragging about her access to classified
information, and used her celebrity to raise money for GOP candidates
Of course, we are to believe that this “mentor / mentee”
relationship did not evolve into something more carnal until after the General
retired from the Army to become chief spook, as the Army frowns on “adultery”.
So maybe there is no Afghan shower scene in the tell all book sure to come, after all? Bummer. Clearly, Paula was looking forward to the General's transition to civilian life, because she got a front row seat for his confirmation hearing, though on the other end from the Mrs.
Things were looking up for Paula, as she settled into the life as the CIA Director's consort in our nation's capitol. But then she noticed an "other woman", Jill Kelley, with her
identical, cleavage baring twin sister. Together they engaged in socialite hi-jinks
involving the top dogs at McGill Air Force base in Tampa.
She and her doctor husband host lavish parties for the Tampa
based brass, with champagne fountains and caviar bars, but don’t pay their
mortgage. She somehow becomes an honorary consul for South Korea, though she is
of Lebanese ancestry. And she drops General P’s name to hustle big consulting
fees by exploiting those South Korean connections.
Associates describe Jill as flirtatious with the Generals
who come to her parties, and she gets a special pass to visit the Air Base as a
“Friend of McGill”.
She parties with General P., while trading thousands of
emails with his Afghan successor, General Allen, who, we are told by his colleagues, is simply a courtly
southern officer who uses the term “sweetheart” only in purely platonic terms. Could there really be
20,000 pages of these “platonic” emails between Jill and General Allen? Hard to comprehend. But at least they
still teach Plato at West Point.
Jill persuades Generals Allen and Petraeus to send letters in support of her sister in a sordid custody dispute. The sister reportedly dates former Florida Governor, Charlie Crist, an old tanning buddy of the lovely Molly. But, Charlie laughs it off, like so many other rumors of his sexually ambiguous adventures. We're still waiting from an explanation from US Senator Marco Rubio though, darling of the Cuba Libre crowd and a potential Presidential contender in 2016.
Somehow Paula gets wind of Jill’s perceived to be predatory behavior. She
creates an email account titled “KelleyPatrol”, to warn General Allen about
this overtly social climbing hussy. She sends more emails to Jill, warning her to back off General P.
Jill, alarmed at these “threatening” emails, takes them to a buff right wing FBI guy, Fred Humphries, who had sent her those cute emails with his shirt off, posing
next to some bullet riddled dummies.
To impress Jill, Fred makes sure the local FBI cyber
squad delves into those "back off bitch" emails, lickity split. A search order is obtained. Apparently it did not occur to Jill that in
their diligence investigating her complaint, the FBI cyber sleuths might want
to check out her in-box as thoroughly as Fred would like to, and discover all those emails with General Allen.
Over the summer, Jill tried to call off the FBI dogs, but, alas,
the catfight was already out of the bag.
The FBI tracked “KelleyPatrol” to Paula, who’s less than cracker jack
reserve intelligence officer espionage trade craft may explain why she was booted from
that Harvard Ph.D. program. And when the FBI started trolling through Paula's anonymous email
accounts and computer memory, what did they find but her smutty correspondence
with the Director of the CIA, apparently including a “sex under the desk”
reference. (We're still not sure if that was real or simply aspirational).
When confronted with the evidence by the FBI, both the
General and his embedee had to confess to their “inappropriate (if ever so hot0
relationship”. But was there any harm but to their own marriages? Who knows?
Now all of this may have been swept under a well deserved
rug. After all, having sex with the CIA Director is no crime. But there was one messy complication:
Fred, the semi-naked FBI guy, apparently became convinced that his FBI bosses were
engaged in a cover-up to protect a certain President with a questionable birth
certificate and socialist agenda.
(Fred apparently saw himself as the David Duchovney character in the X-Files.) Before the election, Fred took this story to GOP House Majority Leader
Eric Cantor. The story was now out into the political realm, and the FBI knew
it, after Cantor phoned the office of the FBI Director with the tawdry story of extracurricular sex at Langley that Fred had fed him.
The Case was almost closed. No harm no foul, right? But with Cantor in the loop, the White House had to know about it too, because
the story was out into the political realm where it ultimately would leak like a punctured 5 year old condom.
Poor General P. and his buff, domme-ish lover. And their
families. They are now just defenseless chum in the DC scandal machine.
And the Defense Department's Inspector General has a team trolling through the emails between Jill and her other General friend to see what level of flirtation might disqualify him from being commander of NATO.
And what about our heroine Jill, who started this
“bitch-hunt” when she sought out FBI Fred’s help?
She and her "not dating Charlie Crist" sister have been seen THREE TIMES at the White House in the last two months, dining with a yet to be named low level White House staffer who purportedly met these upstanding citizens on a recent trip to McGill Air Force base. Most recently, Jill and her family were on a White House tour the Sunday before the election, only days before all this brouhaha hit the fan.
That low level staffer has some 'Splainin' to do!
