“You are, sir,” said a voice from the back of the room. Perot commanded the camera be shut off.

Then he delivered the stunner: Russian President Boris Yeltsin told him in a meeting that he had information about American POWs in his country. Perot said Yeltsin offered to release the men to him in exchange for helping to rebuild his tattered republic. Witnesses say Perot warned that if this revelation ever left the room, he would not only deny it, but “leave the movement.” His story-which U.S. intelligence sources tell NEWSWEEK they seriously doubt-left his audience astonished and, in some cases, angered. If Perot had news about POWS, what was the point in concealing it? For Gilbert, it marked the moment that the man who once vowed to “take out the trash and clean out the barn” had himself become just another offensive feature of American politics. “I concluded that he was either a liar or a lunatic,” says Gilbert, “and maybe both at the same time.”

The POW tale was part of a larger Perot ploy-his 76-day midsummer hiatus. From the moment he withdrew to last Thursday’s announcement that he was “honored to accept” the call of his volunteers, Perot laid the groundwork that would allow him to make a comeback. When he left the race in July, he said he didn’t want to throw the election into the House of Representatives, and hoped to give both parties a chance to prove their bona fides on economic issues. In returning last week, he declared that they had failed his test. But interviews with ex-volunteers and campaign staffers indicate that Perot began plotting his comeback within hours of his withdrawal. In the process, he managed to divert the press from continuing to cut a swath through his carefully mythologized life story; purge the cadre of professional political managers he contemptuously referred to as “the Pentagon”; tame an unwieldy network of volunteers, and re-enter the game when it became a four-week sprint rather than a four-month slog.

Perot had little to lose. By mid-July, his campaign was a shambles, paralyzed by tension between the Washington handlers he had hired and the so-called Dallas white shirts-the corps of ex-soldiers and EDS employees deeply suspicious of the newcomers. Perot came and went as he pleased, vetoing virtually every idea forwarded by campaign managers Ed Rollins and Hamilton Jordan, including plans for direct mail and slick television spots from “Morning in America” auteur Hal Riney. Within days of pulling the plug, his once humming Dallas operation was reduced, as he had promised, “to the size of a shoe box.” Even longtime aides Tom Luce and Morton Meyerson-weary of the roller-coaster ride-had ended their active involvement in Perot’s political career.

But Perot continued to spend money as if he were 5 points down in October-$4 million in the month after quit. He also nurtured petition drives in the remaining states where he wasn’t on the ballot. Most important, he pruned his grass-roots leadership of anyone who wanted him back in the race on anything other than his own terms. The new test of allegiance for Perotians was their willingness to play along with the fiction of his political disappearance. Those who grew strident or bitter in holding him to his promise–a “world class” campaign in exchange for getting him on the ballot in 50 states-were shunted aside. “The idealists have left or have been booted out,” says Elizabeth Elmore, a former Perot organizer in Los Angeles. “What’s left are the sycophants.”

Loyalists bitterly disagree. They say there was nothing deceptive about Perot’s maneuvering, and that all grassroots movements suffer factionalism and disaffection. “The confusion comes from the fact that people didn’t listen very carefully,” says Connie Bull, San Diego chairwoman of United We Stand, America, Perot’s political organization. “I never heard him say, ‘I quit’.” They also say the crusade has always been theirs. But as many ex-volunteers tell it, Perot sought to impose a rigid-and, in many cases, intimidating–centralized control over the “grass roots” movement as soon as it sprouted last spring. The break between Perot I and Perot II allowed him to consolidate his hold. Many of the original volunteer state coordinators were supplanted by paid workers with prior personal or business connections to Perot. Campaign officials say they were simply trying to get a handle on a sprawling volunteer network. And Perot still claims that he is a “servant” to his organizers. But ex-followers say those now in key positions are in harness to his desire for total control.

Some volunteers felt the reach of Perot’s hand from the beginning. Like many voters alienated from American polities, Pat Clancy, a retired Tulsa medical-supply salesman and World War II veteran, liked the Texan’s no-nonsense style. Soon after launching a petition drive to put him on the Oklahoma presidential ballot, he received visitors. “As soon as we opened the office, a couple of Perot’s [ex-]military guys came in and started pushing us around,” said the 67-year-old grandfather of six. He says the emissaries demanded access to his organization’s bank account and ordered the office moved to Oklahoma City. Clancy refused both requests. He soon turned in his petitions and quit in disgust. Perot spokeswoman Sharon Holman says Clancy is exaggerating about any strong-arm tactics and that federal regulations require one central state office.

Those who protested the brusque treatment say they also became targets. Beth Wells, an Irving, Texas, receptionist, says she was told by a Perot security staffer that she would be placed on a “hostile-colors list” if she didn’t comply with their wishes. At first, Wells thought he meant “hostile callers,” but then realized he was using an old military term. “He’s nobody’s servant,” Wells says. (The campaign denies the existence of the list.) While Perot was on the tube preaching an end to politics as usual, volunteers on the ground say they saw old-fashioned cronyism at work. Lawrence Way, Frederick County, Md., coordinator until last April, says the wife of a former EDS employee told Dallas she wanted the job. Way says he discovered that his credit history was being investigated by a New York firm and that Maryland Perot officials put out the word he was once a member of the Ku Klux Klan, a charge he denies. “They just wanted to get me out of the way.” He’s filed a $10 million slander suit against the campaign.

Perot saved some of his most cynical treatment for those who implored him to reconsider his decision to quit. Immediately after his mid July withdrawal, more than 40 state volunteer coordinators descended on Dallas, asking him to come back. The day after the July 18 meeting at his headquarters, where he hinted broadly at his October-surprise scenario, the faithful gathered again at a conference room in the Sheraton Park Central Hotel. The agenda was to plan for United We Stand, America, the post-Perot group that would press candidates to embrace his economic platform. Hawaii coordinator Orson Swindle, a former POW and longtime Perot associate–hitherto all but invisible-“just showed up out of the blue with this air of command and took over,” one volunteer recalls.

But Alaska coordinator Gilbert made a motion that sparked a crisis: she wanted an immediate draft of Perot-their servant-as a presidential candidate. By Gilbert’s account, Swindle attempted to table the motion, but she walked to a blackboard and wrote it out. “One by one,” Gilbert says, “every single coordinator in the room signed that blackboard.” Perot soon arrived. Huddled in the center of the room to ensure that reporters outside couldn’t eavesdrop, the group pleaded with him. At first he asked for 24 hours to think it over, then for a few hours to consult his family. “My family is my weakness,” he told them, Gilbert said, warning that “if that remark leaves this room, I’m out.” But 10 minutes later, the answer was No. In a brief Q&A with reporters afterward, the draft vote wasn’t mentioned.

As the nominating conventions and daily Bush-Clinton slugfests unfolded, Perot retooled. His press staff sent pleasant little “keep in touch” notes to the reporters their boss despised. A new, reconstituted brain trust formed. Swindle shepherded United We Stand. Former Dallas anchorman and Perot crony Murphy Martin “updated” television spots. Clay Mulford, Perot’s son-in-law, took on a higher profile as campaign attorney. Combative press secretary Jim Squires, who held reporters and handlers like Rollins in as much disdain as Perot did, retreated to his Kentucky horse farm and kept in touch by phone. Holman, who once worked in Perot’s real-estate division, handled interview requests and press releases. It’s a group that makes fewer demands of Perot, allowing him to operate in relative isolation. Swindle, the ostensible head of the movement, speaks to the candidate once a day but admits that he doesn’t know what Perot is planning until it happens.

Perot also weeded out those volunteers who wanted a draft, or were otherwise deemed untrustworthy. He resorted to a favorite tool-the investigation. Arnebeck, a leading draft proponent in the July meetings (now a Bush supporter), discovered that his credit history was being checked by a Perot-retained firm. (Campaign officials say the inquiry was justified because he handled money from Dallas.) Gilbert says she was not invited to the next round of United We Stand organizational meetings and that a new Alaska coordinator was appointed without her knowledge. Perot also spent heavily: a total of $18.8 million through the end of August, nearly all of it his own money. In July and August, according to Federal Election Commission records, he spent nearly $270,000 for temporary workers to help close out his petition drive in New York state. He ponied up $7,500 a month to keep each of 64 volunteer offices open and bought 100,000 copies of his own paperback manifesto, which landed on the best-seller list. He kept up his public presence, making an unannounced visit to Florida in the wake of Hurricane Andrew, regularly teasing interviewers on the morning talk shows about his plans and, as always, insisting that none of it was up to him. “I am not the centerpiece of this effort,” he said in an Aug. 30 New York Times op-ed piece.

Meanwhile, United We Stand, America, continued to take on a top-down appearance. New, more pliant, state leaders emerged. In August, Swindle faxed a letter to volunteers telling them to knock off the carping. “ACCEPT THE APPOINTED LEADERSHIP!” he pleaded. At a sparsely attended volunteer convention in San Jose, Calif., last month, dissidents who wanted to elect new leadership were denounced as “interlopers.” Actor Tom Laughlin, once a major supporter, says California state coordinator Bob Hayden attempted to bar him from making a speech that called on Perot to enter the race immediately. He said he was told Perot had forbidden it.

Ex-supporters believe Perot clamped down because he didn’t want to tip his hand, or be denied last week’s ego-fattening spectacle-the ring-kissing delegations from each campaign, the bogus polling, the opportunity to lecture the national press corps. His exit and calculated re-entry also helped him preserve a cherished personal code-his self-assigned role as national savior. The irony is that while Perot may have found these moves personally gratifying, in suiting his own purposes he may have foiled larger ambitions. In four months, he’s made the passage from contender to spoiler at best. For when he walked away in July, many of those who wanted to be saved walked as well.

WHERE THE MONEY WENT

During all but two Ross Perot had officially retired from public life. But a campaign-finance report filed last week in Washington shows Citizen Perot spent much of that time signing checks for his presidential race.

Total campaign disbursements from Jan. 1 to Aug. 31 $18.8 mil. —————————————————– Perot himself donated $16.1 mil. Other donations $2.7 mil. Disbursements from July 1 to Aug. 31, many during Perot’s campaign hiatus $10.6 mil. —————————————————– Temporary employees in New York, some of whom gathered ballot signatures $269,564 Other temporary labor $433,123 Security contractors, including a San Francisco firm that investigated volunteers $49,986 Computer time supplied by Perot Systems $718,000 Office equipment $250,000 Paper shredding $184 SOURCE: FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

Do you think better or worse of Perot than when he first put himself forward for president? 11% Better 63% worse In making decisions about running for president, Is Perot: 26% Following the wishes of his volunteers 63% Manipulating his volunteers to say what he wants them to NEWSWEEK POLL, Oct. 1-2, 1992

A former Marine POW and head of United We Stand, America, he has daily access to Ross Perot. That puts him at the top of the staff roster, but Ross remains the boss.

A good friend of Perot and longtime announcer for the Dallas Cowboys, adman Martin started making Perot spots this summer.

So far, the Perot campaign has taken place mostly on TV, so press secretary Holman acts as de facto campaign scheduler. A Perot aide since the Vietnam trips in the 1970s.

Gave legal advice during Perot’s 50-state petition drive. He’s also married to the candidate’s eldest daughter, Nancy.

A former campaign manager turned harsh critic, the veteran GOP operative says Perot doesn’t deserve a second chance.

Jimmy Carter’s former chief of staff is reportedly writing a book about his short-lived stint as a Perot campaign manager.

Riney created the “Morning Again In America” ads for Ronald Reagan In 1984, but his expensive spots didn’t impress Perot, who fired him before pulling out of the race.

Perot’s attorney and one of his closest associates headed the original petition campaign. Today relations between the two old friends have reportedly cooled. ‘HE HAS TO BE THE BIG PICTURE MAN’

In the early stages of his unofficial presidential candidacy, Ross Perot assembled a “world class” team of veteran political operatives and state volunteer coordinators to run his campaign. NEWSWEEK’S Howard Fineman asked some former aides how they view the Texan’s reentry into the race that he abandoned this summer:

Ross Perot will spend more money than anyone ever has to destroy his own image. He will easily spend $40 million, and the more exposure he gets the less Americans will like him. He has nothing left to sell. His TV commercials are a farce. They were made by this 1964-style TV guy, Murphy Martin. He sent camera crews around to do man-in-the-street interviews: “Tell me what a great guy Ross Perot is.” There are 25 of them in the can, none of them worth airing. In the end, I think he will have very little effect on the race. He’ll get 7 to 10 percent, and that won’t matter.

First of all, if they ask me to go back, I will. I’m impressed with the little guy. think he’s going to do better than people think, too. He talks a plainer language than the others. What impresses me are the people who came out for him to the events I did. They would arrive at 6 a.m. with their picnic tables, and bring their breakfast and their lunch. A lot of those people are still with him. There is a tremendous amount of underlying unhappiness out there with Bush and Clinton. And if Perot does well in that first debate look out: he can get 20 to 25 percent, easy. People always say voters don’t “throw their votes away” on a “protest candidate.” Well, this is the year people want to vote for a protest candidate.

Last July I thought it was all over: that the fat lady had sung. But then some of the younger staffers watched him on “Larry King Live” the next night and they said, “Hey, maybe he’ll start this up again.” I didn’t believe it, in part because so much of his trusted inner circle-Tom Luce, Mort Meyerson–were out, and disappointed and confused. Now, Perot will cause people to re-examine a race they had tentatively decided on, He shakes things up, and in that sense he could take more votes away from Clinton, though he might be a major player in Texas, which could hurt Bush. The big thing is that he switches the agenda away from the draft and Iran-contra onto the economy. For Perot to succeed in any way he has to stay focused. He has to be the big-picture man-which he is, in fact. He has a clear plan. And he has to be willing to say controversial things in defense of that plan.

I think the entire scenario has been planned. He is a sick, sick man. His great moment, his dream fulfilled, was getting those two campaigns to come groveling to him in Dallas last week. Make no mistake: he does have the power of the people behind him. It’s not just his paid “volunteers.” He’s one of those very wealthy people with no dreams left. So they turn to other things. Some turn to drugs, or booze, or women. With Perot it’s power-none of that other stuff. Just power, a power game.