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“The kids’—Jared and Ivanka—exhibited an increasingly panicked sense that the FBI
and DOJ were moving beyond Russian election interference and into finances. “Ivanka is
terrified,” said a satisfied Bannon.
Trump turned to suggesting to his billionaire chorus that he fire FBI director Comey.
He had raised this idea many times before, but always, seemingly, at the same time and in
the same context that he brought up the possibility of firing everybody. Should I fire
Bannon? Should I fire Reince? Should I fire McMaster? Should I fire Spicer? Should I fire
Tillerson? This ritual was, everyone understood, more a pretext to a discussion of the
power he held than it was, strictly, about personnel decisions. Still, in Trump’s poison-the-
well fashion, the should-I-fire-so-and-so question, and any consideration of it by any of
the billionaires, was translated into agreement, as in: Carl Icahn thinks I should fire
Comey (or Bannon, or Priebus, or McMaster, or Tillerson).
His daughter and son-in-law, their urgency compounded by Charlie Kushner’s concern,
encouraged him, arguing that the once possibly charmable Comey was now a dangerous
and uncontrollable player whose profit would inevitably be their loss. When Trump got
wound up about something, Bannon noted, someone was usually winding him up. The
family focus of discussion—insistent, almost frenzied—became wholly about Comey’s
ambition. He would rise by damaging them. And the drumbeat grew.
“That son of a bitch is going to try to fire the head of the FBI,” said Ailes.
During the first week of May, the president had a ranting meeting with Sessions and his
deputy Rod Rosenstein. It was a humiliating meeting for both men, with Trump insisting
they couldn’t control their own people and pushing them to find a reason to fire Comey—
in effect, he blamed them for not having come up with that reason months ago. (It was
their fault, he implied, that Comey hadn’t been fired right off the bat.)
Also that week, there was a meeting that included the president, Jared and Ivanka,
Bannon, Priebus, and White House counsel Don McGahn. It was a closed-door meeting—
widely noted because it was unusual for the Oval Office door ever to be closed.
All the Democrats hate Comey, said the president, expressing his certain and self-
justifying view. All the FBI agents hate him, too—75 percent of them cant stand him.
(This was a number that Kushner had somehow alighted on, and Trump had taken it up.)
Firing Comey will be a huge fundraising advantage, declared the president, a man who
almost never talked about fundraising.
McGahn tried to explain that in fact Comey himself was not running the Russia
investigation, that without Comey the investigation would proceed anyway. McGahn, the
lawyer whose job was necessarily to issue cautions, was a frequent target of Trump rages.
Typically these would begin as a kind of exaggeration or acting and then devolve into the
real thing: uncontrollable, vein-popping, ugly-face, tantrum stuff. It got primal. Now the
president’s denunciations focused in a vicious fury on McGahn and his cautions about
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