第1章
Inside the White House Under Siege: Trump's Tumultuous Second Year
Donald Trump's presidency has always been a study in contradictions. When Michael Wolff's "Siege" hit shelves in 2019, it quickly became the talk of Washington and beyond, selling over a million copies in its first month. The sequel to his explosive "Fire and Fury," this book continues Wolff's insider account of a White House in perpetual crisis. What makes this work particularly fascinating is how it captures a president increasingly isolated, yet somehow maintaining preternatural confidence in the face of mounting legal and political threats. Even Barack Obama reportedly kept a copy on his nightstand, curious about the inner workings of an administration so fundamentally different from his own. The book's revelations about the Mueller investigation and Trump's relationship with figures like Steve Bannon offer a rare glimpse into one of the most chaotic presidencies in American history. Let's dive into the turbulent world Wolff reveals.
第2章
The Bullseye: Trump in Mueller's Crosshairs
"Where is my fucking letter?" Trump would demand repeatedly in early 2018, desperately seeking assurance from his personal lawyer John Dowd that he wasn't a target of Robert Mueller's investigation. Despite mounting evidence suggesting he was indeed the bullseye, Trump maintained an almost supernatural confidence that Mueller would soon clear him completely. As Ty Cobb told Steve Bannon about Trump's mindset: "Even if it's bad, it's great."
The reality inside the White House was far more alarming. Mueller's grand jury, meeting Thursdays and Fridays at federal district court in Washington, listened with what witnesses called "scary attention" to proceedings. Nearly every senior staffer retained lawyers, with Bannon alone spending $2 million in legal fees. Staff avoided meetings to prevent becoming witnesses and trusted no one, knowing colleagues might "flip" to save themselves.
Hope Hicks, the 29-year-old communications director, embodied this precarious position. As the ultimate keeper of Trump's secrets, her admission to the House Intelligence Committee about telling "white lies" for the president required an emergency conference with her lawyers. Despite lacking substantial political experience, Hicks served as Trump's gatekeeper and de facto chief of staff. Trump valued her not for political skills but for her pliant dutifulness, often calling her "Hope-y" while simultaneously making her the subject of prurient interest ("Who's fucking Hope?").
The sudden departures of key staffers raised alarm bells about the investigation's progress. When Josh Raffel (Jared and Ivanka's spokesperson) and Hope Hicks abruptly resigned in late February 2018, concerns mounted they might be subjects of Mueller's investigation-or had already cut deals. Both had been on Air Force One in July 2017 when they helped craft a largely false story about Don Jr.'s Trump Tower meeting with Russians. Though Trump publicly praised Hicks, he didn't try to dissuade her from leaving, and privately began downgrading her importance once he suspected she might be talking to investigators.
Meanwhile, Trump's real estate empire faced increasing scrutiny. His properties were designed to appeal to money launderers, with B-level properties marketed as triple-A investments. One particularly revealing episode involved Trump outbidding Jeffrey Epstein for a Palm Beach property in 2004, paying $41 million through Deutsche Bank financing, then selling it for $96 million to Russian oligarch Dmitry Rybolovlev without making significant improvements. This $55 million windfall typified Trump's questionable real estate dealings, possibly involving hidden ownership schemes where Rybolovlev might have "paid himself for the house, thereby cleansing the additional $55 million."
By mid-March, a witness with extensive knowledge of Trump Organization operations testified before the Mueller grand jury. The prosecutors questioned them about Trump's business structure, meeting patterns, and his relationships with known Mafia members. The witness left shocked not by what prosecutors wanted to know, but by how much they already knew about Trump's professional and personal indiscretions.
第3章
The Do-Over: Bannon's Continued Influence
Though officially exiled from Trump's White House, Steve Bannon operated from his cramped "Embassy" townhouse on A Street-part frat house, part military redoubt. Despite their mutual animosity, Bannon and Trump remained obsessed with each other's words and actions. Bannon had helped install his allies in key administration positions-Pompeo as Secretary of State, Bolton as National Security Advisor, and Kudlow heading the National Economic Council. Meanwhile, his enemies in the White House, including Hope Hicks and those supporting Kushner, were departing.
In March 2018, Congress passed a $1.3 trillion appropriations bill with surprising bipartisan ease, allocating only $1.6 billion for border security rather than fully funding Trump's border wall. This represented a victory for congressional leadership over a disengaged Trump, who seemed not to understand the bill's implications, telling Kushner, "We've gotten the Wall, totally."
The moment the budget passed without Wall funding, Bannon began working the phones from his Embassy headquarters, alerting Trump's base to "light him up." Understanding that Trump was moved not by details or facts but by the fear of losing, Bannon orchestrated a howling protest. That night, Fox News hosts Carlson, Ingraham, and Hannity hammered home the message of betrayal. By Friday morning, Trump abruptly reversed position, threatening to veto the bill he had embraced just 24 hours earlier. He descended to the Oval Office in such a violent rage that his hair came undone, momentarily revealing an "almost entirely bald Donald Trump" and sending the Republican Party into panic.
Despite threats, Trump eventually caved and signed the bill after Mattis warned him soldiers wouldn't be paid, but vowed "never...never...never...again," pounding the desk with each "never." Sitting at his Embassy table after Trump's capitulation, Bannon remained clear-eyed about Trump's liability to his populist vision. "Dude, he's Donald fucking Trump," he said, holding his head. Though Bannon saw himself, not Trump, as the true man of populist destiny, he remained committed to his romantic vision of the working class rising against the corporate-governmental-technocratic machine.
By late March, Chief of Staff John Kelly seemed surely on his way out. Brought in to impose discipline in August 2017, Kelly had been increasingly circumvented by Trump, Jared and Ivanka. Both men openly trashed each other-Trump calling Kelly a "twitcher" and "feeble," while Kelly deemed Trump "deranged" and "stupid." In February, Kelly had physically pushed Trump adviser Corey Lewandowski against a wall outside the Oval Office, leaving Lewandowski so shaken he "almost wet himself."
第4章
Lawyers: The White House vs. Department of Justice
The tensions between the Trump administration and the Department of Justice had erupted into open warfare fifteen months into Trump's presidency. White House counsel Don McGahn was frequently considered the unhappiest person in the White House, constantly belittled and mocked by Trump. A former federal election lawyer with no prior White House experience, McGahn would mutter "This is why we can't have nice things" under his breath after Trump's egregious acts, quoting Taylor Swift.
As the point person between the White House and Department of Justice, McGahn endured Trump's constant rage about why the DOJ was "personally hounding him" and his inability to control it. "It's my Justice Department," Trump would repeatedly insist to McGahn, who had threatened to quit multiple times if Trump followed through on firing the attorney general, deputy attorney general, or special counsel.
A post-Watergate paradox existed: while the Justice Department was organizationally part of the executive branch, a permanent-government class within believed elections should have no role in how the DOJ conducted itself. The department saw itself as a check on White House power, with its own independence. Even those with more nuanced views recognized boundaries that couldn't be crossed. Rachel Brand, the associate attorney general, resigned in February 2018 to work for Walmart, telling colleagues she wanted out before Trump fired Rosenstein and demanded she fire Mueller.
Trump, with neither political nor bureaucratic experience, couldn't grasp the Justice Department's independence. Having spent his career heading a small family operation designed to follow his commands, he believed the DOJ and FBI worked directly for him. "He reports to me!" Trump would repeat about Sessions and Comey. "I am the boss!" When lectured about DOJ "custom and tradition," Trump would respond, "I don't want to hear this bullshit!"
After the April 9 raid on Michael Cohen's office and home, Trump was seething. Though he sometimes dismissed Cohen as merely doing "PR for me" rather than being his personal lawyer, Trump believed the Justice Department had used any pretext to spread wiretaps among his associates to capture his own conversations. In a curious role reversal, many conservatives had become suspicious of law enforcement, convinced a "deep state" was targeting Trump-a view promoted by Sean Hannity on Fox News. "Sean's in crank land," observed Bannon, "but these are good bedtime stories for the president."
After John Dowd's departure, Trump turned his wrath on Ty Cobb, mocking his mustache and dubbing him "Cy Young" in confusion. Convinced Cobb was no match for Mueller, Trump began a daily ritual of asking everyone if he should fire him. Trump desperately wanted "a killer lawyer"-not from a major law firm with their executive committees and caution, but a theatrical fighter who could perform on television. He became obsessed with Stormy Daniels' attorney Michael Avenatti, admiring his aggressive style and media presence. "He's a star," Trump declared. "Get me a star."
第5章
Home Alone: Presidential Isolation
Despite his public rages, Trump often appeared lazy, disengaged and self-satisfied in the White House-a 71-year-old man contentedly reviewing his own "extraordinary" accomplishments. As Ivanka told a friend, "It might seem bad, really bad, but he can be as happy as a clam."
Trump existed in a protective bubble, incapable of acknowledging vulnerability or expressing regret. As his legal troubles mounted, his circle of confidants shrank-many longtime real estate friends avoided him for fear of being called by Mueller. His late-night conversations increasingly consisted of eating Three Musketeers candy bars in bed while talking to the "slavish and reassuring" Sean Hannity.
Trump's management style remained entirely self-centered rather than task-oriented. He arrived late to the office and enjoyed staged meetings designed to praise and distract him. The White House staff learned that a distracted Trump was a happy Trump, allowing the political and bureaucratic professionals to quietly advance work that Trump took no interest in-which constituted the vast majority of government operations.
Trump regularly developed intense but fleeting personal crushes. After Flynn, Bannon, Porter and Ryan had their moments, Rear Admiral Ronny Jackson became a favorite after his fawning health assessment claimed Trump "might live to be two hundred years old" with better eating habits. When Trump fired VA Secretary David Shulkin in March, he nominated Jackson as replacement despite his complete lack of administrative experience or veterans affairs background.
The White House had descended into unprecedented dysfunction. Various initiatives had flamed out, McMaster was persona non grata before his March resignation, and Marc Short's congressional liaison office was shunned after the appropriations bill debacle. The communications department was in "ludicrous disarray" with Mercedes Schlapp, Sarah Huckabee Sanders (the "Huckabee girl"), and Kellyanne Conway undermining each other hourly while Hope Hicks sniped from outside. "A catfight," Trump pronounced with satisfaction as he handled press outreach from his personal cell phone.
The White House was emptying out. Nearly the entire top tier had departed within fifteen months: Flynn, Priebus, Bannon, Cohn, Hicks, McMaster-all gone. Those who remained understood they worked for Donald Trump personally, not the presidency as an institution. Pompeo succeeded through subservience, while Kudlow and Bolton were "perfect substitutes" because they desperately needed their jobs. Many positions remained unfilled due to legal risks, the difficulty of working for Trump, and career damage. "Sometimes the West Wing could seem almost empty. Trump was as alone as he had ever been."
第6章
Robert Mueller: The Square vs. The Showman
Trump and Mueller had curiously parallel but opposite biographies. Both born in 1940s New York to German immigrant families, they represented contrasting American archetypes. Trump's father Fred operated in what he saw as a cutthroat, zero-sum world, teaching his son to win at all costs. Mueller's father, a buttoned-down DuPont executive, embodied 1950s corporate restraint, teaching his son not to rock the boat. Mueller, Princeton '66, represented "the last generation of Ivy League Republicans-moderate, establishment, upper-class" in contrast to Trump's brash outer-borough ambition.
Mueller was the quintessential establishment figure-a scholar-athlete at St. Paul's School who captained sports every season, a Vietnam veteran who remained curiously detached from the cultural turmoil of the next forty years. With a tight circle of intimates, few learned what he truly believed. Though he transformed the FBI after 9/11 from crime-fighting to counter-terrorism, his public profile remained remarkably modest. His suspicion of personality became his personality-"a hopeless square" who operated strictly by the book, with no press aptitude or interest, a decent family man married to his high school sweetheart.
By March 2018, Mueller's team, led by aggressive prosecutor Andrew Weissmann, drafted an audacious three-count indictment against President Trump. The charges included obstruction of justice, witness tampering, and retaliation against witnesses. The draft indictment traced obstruction from Flynn's lies through Comey's firing to interference with the special counsel's investigation. Mueller's team also prepared a legal memorandum explicitly contradicting the Office of Legal Counsel opinion that sitting presidents couldn't be indicted, arguing the Constitution provides no such immunity and that impeachment doesn't protect officials from prosecution.
The special counsel's office constantly weighed the possibility Trump would fire them. Their internal research concluded Trump could indeed order Sessions to withdraw the special counsel regulations or potentially fire Mueller directly by arguing the regulations were unconstitutional. The team discovered their position was "weirdly fragile"-if terminated, there was no clear statute governing what would happen to their staff, records, or investigations.
Rudy Giuliani emerged as Trump's peculiar legal defender, delivering rambling, incoherent television performances that horrified Bannon and bewildered even Trump himself. Despite his "crazy eyes" and erratic behavior, Giuliani's strategy created a new dynamic-contrasting the silent, buttoned-down Mueller with an unpredictable, theatrical defense. Giuliani embraced Dershowitz's theory of absolute presidential powers while making outlandish claims, including publicly announcing the special counsel wouldn't indict Trump. This forced Mueller into a corner-either break his silence to contradict Giuliani or let the claim stand.
第7章
Michael Cohen: The Fixer Flips
Bannon remained astonished by Trump's ability to lie with complete sangfroid and aplomb, making direct eye contact while fabricating stories that never wavered in their details. The pee-tape episode exemplified this-Trump adamantly denied staying overnight at the Moscow Ritz-Carlton during the 2013 Miss Universe Pageant, a claim he repeated verbatim numerous times despite evidence he had indeed stayed there. Trump's compulsive, persistent lying created constant alarm among aides but also demonstrated his unique strength-lying without shame or fear of consequences became a powerful tool, as "somebody always believes you."
Trump ran his business like a criminal enterprise, containing truth within a tight circle of loyalists. He romanticized mobster life, deliberately rejecting respectability in favor of the Dapper Don persona from his New York nightlife days with Roy Cohn. His inner circle consisted entirely of people utterly dependent on him: executive assistant Rhona Graff, CFO Allen Weisselberg, lawyers Michael Cohen and Marc Kasowitz, security man Keith Schiller, bodyguard-turned-COO Matt Calamari, his children, and later White House staffers Hope Hicks and Corey Lewandowski. These relationships were based on extreme codependence, with each person becoming an extension of Trump himself.
Michael Cohen joined Trump's circle in 2006, an ambitious Long Island Jewish lawyer with a degree from America's lowest-ranked law school who aspired to Trump's fast-and-loose business style. Cohen embraced a mobster persona to please Trump, becoming his literal "bag man" handling cash for women and off-the-books issues. Despite Trump being "oddly sanguine" about the FBI raid on Cohen's office, repeatedly stating "I have deniability," tensions mounted when Cohen began appearing regularly at a Manhattan cafe, smoking cigars for paparazzi-sending a message to Trump that he expected legal bills paid and possibly a pardon.
Trump, rather than understanding the threat, became obsessed with Cohen stealing the limelight and his daughter Samantha's Instagram posts showing expensive trips and bikini photos. Trump antagonized his former fixer, publicly belittling him instead of protecting their mutual interests. Ironically, this elevated Cohen to equal footing with Trump in media coverage-"their names appearing nearly every day in news accounts in the same paragraph"-exactly what Cohen had always dreamed of.
第8章
The Women: Melania's World and #MeToo Threats
Trump's marriage to Melania was widely viewed within the White House as a transactional arrangement-"a Katie Holmes-Tom Cruise deal." Concerns about Melania's background as an Eastern European model and questions about how the couple met had been suppressed during the campaign through aggressive legal action, including hiring Charles Harder to sue the Daily Mail in the UK for implying her modeling career crossed into escort work. The couple lived largely separate lives, with Melania focused almost exclusively on protecting her son Barron from his father's remoteness and hostility.
Steve Bannon identified two potential presidency-ending "exogenous events": proof Trump had paid for an abortion or Melania publicly leaving him. Trump's humiliation avoidance drove much of his behavior-"Almost everything he does is about trying to avoid humiliation," said Bannon, noting Trump's father had humiliated him but unlike his brother, Trump had learned to withstand it.
Melania and Barron occupied "a bubble inside the Trump bubble," with Melania sometimes speaking Slovenian with her son-particularly when her parents were around, which infuriated Trump. Despite officially relocating to the White House after a six-month delay, Melania spent significant time at a separate house in Maryland where she had installed her parents. The couple maintained separate bedrooms in the White House.
Trump's relationship with twelve-year-old Barron had grown increasingly strained, with Trump responding with hostility and avoidance. He would speak about Barron in the third person and even joked about "How do I stunt his growth?" as Barron approached six feet tall. Trump's friends advised Melania this was consistent with how he treated all his children, particularly his sons-ignoring Eric, ridiculing Don Jr., rarely mentioning Tiffany, while treating Ivanka with "rat-pack-like solicitude."
As the #MeToo movement gained momentum, the Trump White House maintained "nervous denial" about it. Trump himself showed no awareness of changing sensitivities regarding women, making crude sexual boasts that mortified others. Bannon likened #MeToo to the detective Columbo, methodically working his way to the perpetrator's door-inevitably reaching the White House. Nobody knew exactly how many women might come forward with accusations against Trump, with estimates ranging from "twenty-five women, locked and loaded" to potentially hundreds or thousands.
The White House feared new sexual accusations might cause Melania to leave Trump. Her unexplained hospitalization in May 2018 sparked widespread speculation about their marriage. While the West Wing, following Trump's lead, acted as if Melania was "of little concern," John Kelly pressed for details about her condition. Trump remained imperturbable, insisting everything was "fine" despite her 24-day absence from public view. Staff viewed their marriage as a "Potemkin village"-an arrangement rather than a genuine relationship. When Melania finally reappeared wearing a jacket reading "I REALLY DON'T CARE, DO U?" the president claimed she was referring to the media.
第9章
Trump Abroad: The Helsinki Disaster
In typical slapdash fashion, the White House added two legs to the planned July NATO meeting in Brussels: a UK visit to meet the Queen and a Helsinki summit with Putin. Before boarding, Trump remarked, "I have NATO, I have the UK-that's a situation with turmoil. And I have Putin. Frankly, Putin may be the easiest of all." Bannon worried most about the UK leg, fearing massive protests and royal snubs that could cause Trump to "crack wide open." Jared and Ivanka, sensing the royal family's cold shoulder, skipped the trip.
Trump arrived in Brussels irritable-sleepless, missing a shirt, complaining about food, and apparently not speaking with Melania. At breakfast with NATO's secretary-general, he made odd accusations that "Germany is totally controlled by Russia." Trump repeatedly told his team NATO "bores the shit out of me," seeing its complex bureaucracy as a power play against his inability to absorb details: "They're trying to get me to fall asleep in my soup. They want that picture." His performance was erratic-canceling meetings, arriving late, delivering rants, and threatening to leave the alliance.
As predicted, Trump's UK visit unfolded catastrophically. Arriving on July 12, he was greeted by his unqualified crony Woody Johnson amid protests and a giant Trump baby balloon. Trump immediately gave a devastating interview to Murdoch's Sun tabloid, blithely undermining Theresa May's Brexit strategy, praising her rival Boris Johnson, criticizing London's Muslim mayor Sadiq Khan, lamenting immigration's effect on European culture, and complaining "you don't hear the name England as much as you should." When the interview published during May's black-tie dinner honoring him at Churchill's Blenheim Palace, Trump initially denied saying any of it, prompting Murdoch to scoff "He's mentally out of it."
Putin arrived late to Helsinki, keeping Trump waiting nearly an hour. After their two-hour private meeting followed by a joint session with advisers, Trump emerged for the press conference looking like "a beaten dog"-a description that quickly spread through Trumpworld. Trump appeared deferential, obsequious, and servile, leading White House staff to speculate about what Putin might have on him. At the press conference, Putin audaciously offered to address Mueller's indictments by allowing questioning of the Russian agents if Americans could be questioned in return-which Trump indicated he supported. Trump then incoherently exonerated Putin while Putin casually dismissed Trump as a nobody during his 2013 Moscow visit.
With Republicans "coming unglued" and White House resignations imminent, Vice President Pence convinced Trump to walk back his Helsinki remarks. Ivanka and Anthony Scaramucci suggested blaming it on misspeaking, leading to Trump's infamous "would/wouldn't" explanation-claiming he meant "wouldn't be Russia" instead of "would." During these televised remarks, the lights mysteriously went out, which Ivanka blamed on John Kelly. Bannon was incredulous: "When Ivanka and the Mooch can talk the commander in chief into thinking that people will believe that you had a double negative problem, you've left the Cartesian universe."
第10章
The Midterms: Trump's First Electoral Test
With one hundred days until the midterm elections, Republican prospects looked grim. The White House seemed virtually empty, with no coherent message as the critical midterms approached. Even Kellyanne Conway had seemingly disappeared ("Into witness protection," said Bannon), and Jason Miller, Trump's CNN defender, was writing his own talking points. Bannon had returned to campaign mode, operating from the Embassy, trying to recapture his 2016 mindset-but this time facing a fully alert opposition. In the White House, lassitude and fatalism prevailed, with many assuming they would lose.
Despite growing weary of Trump, Bannon recognized his disruptive political genius that conventional politicians couldn't counter. "This is a herculean struggle, but at the end of the day we've got Trump, and no one in American politics has yet figured out how to deal with that," he said. While Republicans planned to spend over $500 million on House races, Trump focused solely on rallies, which he believed were the key to his 2016 victory.
The Republicans faced overwhelming resignation about losing. "If we don't win, our situation will be so catastrophic we can't even think about it," said Bannon, predicting "internecine warfare" that would leave no one standing. Bannon warned his Republican friends that Trump wasn't truly a Republican but operated through convenience. "If you think Trump is dangerous now," warned Bannon, "a wounded Trump knows no bounds."
Bannon recognized Trump needed an "exogenous event" to fire up his base before the midterms. The opportunity arrived with a caravan of Honduran migrants heading north toward the U.S. border. After visiting Mexico City, Bannon became a primary purveyor of the caravan narrative, drawing inspiration from the xenophobic novel "The Camp of the Saints." What began as several hundred migrants fleeing violence grew to over a thousand, providing Fox News and conservative media with alarming visuals. Trump seized on the issue with a barrage of threatening tweets about cutting aid to Central American countries.
On election night, Bannon hosted a rooftop party near Fox News headquarters, attempting to create both a social event and a war room to explain election mechanics to his "deplorable" audience. While early results seemed promising for Republicans, Bannon's hopes were quickly dashed when Barbara Comstock, whom he considered "the barometer of the night," was down sixteen points in Virginia's 10th District. Fox News' early call of a Democratic House victory-made by Lachlan Murdoch at 6:30pm while polls remained open in the West-infuriated Bannon, who saw it as deliberately undermining Republican chances in tight races. "The Murdochs just blew a rocket up Trump's ass," he fumed, recognizing it as a statement about Trump's future from the supposedly pro-Trump network.
The night revealed a stark electoral divide: Trump country versus anti-Trump country had solidified since 2016. Rural white voters remained loyal to the president, while urban and suburban voters were expelling even moderate Republicans. The middle ground had vanished entirely. Though Republicans would gain two or three Senate seats, Bannon dismissed this as meaningless-the House loss was devastating. Bannon's grim conclusion: "It would be a two-year presidency."
第11章
The Wall: Trump's Final Stand
As the shutdown dragged into January with Democrats controlling the House, Jared and Ivanka imagined a grand bargain trading Wall funding for DACA protections. Bannon found this delusional-amnesty was anathema to Trump's base. His alternative strategy: declare a national emergency to direct the army to build the Wall, moving the fight to the courts rather than Congress.
A "rump group" of Bannon, Lewandowski, Bossie and Meadows began meeting at the Embassy in early January to plot the national emergency declaration. Their pitch was simple: there was no alternative. Though the declaration would face court challenges, it would show strength rather than weakness. Trump initially embraced the idea, describing it as "this power that I have," as though magical.
Trump planned to announce the national emergency in a January 8 Oval Office address, comparing the border crisis to Kennedy's Cuban Missile Crisis. But at the last minute, Jared and Ivanka recast the speech, replacing "national emergency" with "humanitarian crisis." To Bannon's dismay, Trump delivered a "nothing burger"-appearing small, constrained, and trapped, with no solution or progress offered.
After thirty-five days-the longest shutdown in American history-Trump capitulated on January 25th, signing legislation to temporarily reopen the government for twenty-one days while negotiators worked on border security. Democrats immediately rejected any physical wall funding. Trump threatened another shutdown or using emergency powers, but his credibility was shattered. Intelligence chiefs publicly contradicted his threat assessments, Senate Republicans opposed his Syria withdrawal, and federal prosecutors expanded investigations into his inaugural committee and business dealings.
Trump found himself surrounded by hostile forces: a hardening majority of voters who believed he'd abused his office, imminent investigations set to enumerate his crimes, a brewing rebellion within his own party, and a Democratic House pledged to his destruction. On February 14, William Barr was sworn in as attorney general, McConnell's choice to serve as potential broker between DOJ investigations and the president. That night, Trump made frantic calls, complaining bitterly that nobody was defending him, that Weisselberg was talking to investigators, that Jared would be indicted. The next morning, seemingly just to get it over with, Trump declared his national emergency.
第12章
Epilogue: The Report That Changed Everything
After Democrats took House control on January 3rd, anticipation for Mueller's report grew daily. For Trumpers, the delay heightened their foreboding. Kushner privately expected a devastating critique of the campaign's willingness to accept Russian help, with Don Jr. likely facing obstruction charges and Trump potentially named an unindicted co-conspirator. Bannon believed the report would be historic-Trump's judgment day.
Though nearly complete by early January, Mueller withheld his report until Barr's confirmation on February 14th. Even then, Barr delayed requesting it until after Trump's North Korea summit. When House Democrats announced their own investigation on March 4th, Barr finally requested the report by March 22nd. Andrew Weissmann, Mueller's key deputy, quit in bitter disappointment over Mueller's narrowed focus.
Mueller had revealed himself as indecisive throughout the investigation, torn between using his full authority against Trump and questioning whether he had the right to correct a duly elected president. He worried about undermining the presidency as Ken Starr had done with Clinton, and even decided against subpoenaing Trump, believing it wouldn't be a "fair fight" since Trump would surely incriminate himself. Surprisingly, Mueller had come to accept that "Trump is Trump"-what the country voted for, for better or worse.
As the report's delivery approached, Trump remained "batshit crazy" yet convinced he would prevail, oddly finding comfort in counseling his friend Robert Kraft on his own legal troubles. On March 22nd, Mueller finally delivered his report, with no new indictments. Two days later, Barr's four-page summary stated Mueller found no evidence of conspiracy with Russia and left obstruction charges to Barr's discretion, which he declined to pursue.
Trump immediately proclaimed "complete and total exoneration," celebrating with supporters: "Who's the man? I'm the man. I am the man." Despite this victory, Trump remained paranoid, repeatedly asking "Am I safe?" while acknowledging "They are going to keep coming after me." This seismic political reversal changed little about Trump's fundamental nature-a nature that would continue to repulse most Americans and lead him repeatedly to the brink of personal destruction. His escape, as Wolff concludes, "would be brief."
