The iCongressman (12 page)

MICHAEL

Even as a congressman from the state, I spend very
little time in Hartford. When the occasion calls for the elected
representatives of Connecticut to come together for the best interests of our
residents, I am usually left out in the cold. The governor, a longtime,
flag-waving Democrat and friend of Winston Beaumont, will not even return my
calls. But that’s not what brings me here today.

The State Armory and Arsenal in Hartford was built in the
early twentieth century and is the largest such facility in the state. Located
only a quarter mile from the state capitol building, the classical
revival-style structure serves as headquarters of the Connecticut Military
Department and holds the office of the man currently lined up in my crosshairs.

Major General Timothy
Reinert
is
The Adjutant General of the Connecticut National Guard, and is responsible to
the governor and the National Guard Bureau for providing mission-ready forces
to support both Army mobilization and state emergency operations requirements.
He is a two-star, and the man who ultimately implements policies applicable to
all state Guard units. That makes him responsible for their failures as well.

“I’m sorry, the general has asked not to be disturbed,” the
staff sergeant seated at the desk in the small outer office decrees without
looking up.

“That’s his problem, not mine,” I retort, already cranky
that I had to drive up here to storm the ramparts of this man’s office because
he could not manage to hold a civil conversation with one of my staff members.

The NCO looks up, equally annoyed at the disturbance and my
affront to his status as gatekeeper for the state’s ultimate military
authority. “There are no appointments scheduled so you, whoa …” he trails off
mid-sentence after recognizing me. “My apologies, Congressman Bennit, I didn’t
realize―”

“Don’t sweat it, Sergeant; you’re just doing your job.
However, trust me when I tell you that I’m also doing mine. Please go tell your
boss I’m here to see him, and that he will come out to take this meeting or I
will dust off my breaching skills, go all infantry, and kick his damn door in.”

“Yes, sir!” the staff sergeant says, probably impressed he
just met a politician who actually speaks his language. He disappears into the
general’s office and shuts the door behind him. The ensuing one-sided
conversation with his boss was a spirited one from what I could hear through
the door. As a former NCO, I know what it’s like to stand in front of an
officer’s desk and have to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear. It’s not
a pleasant experience.

After a moment, the tall, gray-haired general emerges in his
utility uniform, the subdued two-star rank insignia unmistakable in the center
of his torso. He is struggling to mask how pissed off he is, and would almost
succeed if his eyes didn’t give it away.

“Congressman Bennit, welcome to the Connecticut National
Guard. It’s good to see you, sir.” I know I’m supposed to say something equally
political, so I won’t. Shock and awe is so much more fun.

“Good morning, General. I’m the last person you want to see
today, so drop the façade and cut the bullshit.” Perfect. You don’t get any
more non-political than that without dropping an f-bomb or two. He grins, maybe
appreciating the fact that I’m not here to be coddled.

“Let’s head into my office,” he says, leading the way. His
office is typical of most military men, adorned with various plaques, framed
shadow boxes, and gifts from various units he served in and commanded. Almost every
service member has similar “I love me” walls, but the higher in grade someone
climbs, the more extensive the décor. General
Reinert
has managed to cover all four walls of his office.

“As I told your staff member, sir, I cannot interfere with
an ongoing investigation,” he says, getting to the point. Usually, I prefer
being called Michael, but this isn’t one of those moments.

“No,
General
, you told
Meghan
she doesn’t understand the military and should mind her own
business. That’s just half the problem you and I have today, though. You then
asked her to tell me that if I have a problem with that, I should come see you
so you can tell me to get lost to my face.” I watch the blood drain out of his.
“Go ahead, I dare you.”

“My apologies, Congressman, I intended no disrespect.”

“Yes, you did. You know my background. I was a NCO, and
dealt with officers who were jockeying for the next rank all the time. You
don’t reach your position without being politically astute, so I will hazard a
guess that your purposeful avoidance of me was probably ordered by the
governor.”

General
Reinert
exhales, and I
know I’m right on target with my comment. Now he relaxes, given the knowledge
that I understand his actions without him having to tell me. I have a flight to
catch back to D.C., so it’s time to get this done.

“This isn’t about you and me, or the politics that rule our
respective worlds,” I say. “It is about a young soldier who is having a bad
time of it and some men who may be behaving in a manner that neither of us
condones.”

“Yes, sir, but we don’t know if their behavior constitutes
harassment yet. I cannot interfere on your behalf,”
Reinert
concludes, the double meaning of his statement not lost on me. He will face
consequences if he consents to any of my requests.

“Then it’s settled.”

“What’s settled, sir?” the old soldier asks, confused as to
whether I missed the point of his statement.

“General, when the governor calls after hearing that I was
spotted in the building, you are going to tell him that you told me I’m an
amateur and to go pound sand.”

“I am, huh?”

“Yes, you are. Then you are going to hear through an
imaginary source that a soldier under your command may be having issues with
sexual harassment in her unit. You will direct the command to perform a fair
and speedy investigation, and order that commander to remove her from any
situation where alleged behavior may be repeated for her protection.”

“Imaginary source?
Look, I know who
her uncle is. The governor―”

“Will never find out the subject of this discussion,” I say,
cutting him off. “You can make up a reason why I was here. Where you got the
information about the NCO in question from isn’t my concern. Soldiers talk,
especially in headquarters buildings. In the end, you will be the firm leader
enforcing your zero-tolerance policy on harassment, while having the cover of
not doing it for me. Agreed?” As if he could say no to that.

“Agreed.”

“Excellent,” I say, turning to leave his office.

“Congressman Bennit?” he says, stopping me before I hit the
door. “Congressman Parker hates your guts. This isn’t a political favor, so why
are you doing this?”

“‘All Soldiers are entitled to outstanding leadership; I
will provide that leadership. I know my Soldiers, and I will always place their
needs above my own,’” I recite from the NCO Creed. Every sergeant worth a damn
should be able to quote it from memory.

“‘I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same,’” he
replies from his own oath with a nod. “You could try to score political points
publically over this if you wanted to. Why aren’t you?”

“Because a soldier who just wants to do her job has a
problem she needs our help with. She doesn’t care about me, you, or anyone
else’s political scorecard.”

“Despite being a former Green Beret, you know that’s not how
business is done in Washington, or even here for that matter,” General
Reinert
laments.

“No, sir, it isn’t. But imagine the problems we could solve
in this country if it was.”

CHELSEA

“This is my spot, Blake, go find your own,” I say as he
takes a seat next to me on the Capitol steps.

“We’ve covered this. It was mine first, remember?” Damn, I
forgot that part.

“Fine.
Just sit there with your
mouth closed or you’ll find yourself swallowing your teeth.”

Blake looks like he has a witty comeback in mind, but wisely
thinks twice about it. It’s just after lunch, and I wanted to spend a few quiet
moments outside in this beautiful weather before returning to the grind of the
day.

July is coming to the capital, and with it oppressive heat
and humidity typical for that time of year. Today is gorgeous though, with the
thermometer only reaching the low eighties and humidity unseasonably low. Too
bad it’s being ruined now.

“Any plans next week for the Fourth of July?”

“I thought I warned you not to talk to me.”

Blake resumes watching the people mill around the Capitol
reflecting pool below us. I can’t stand the guy, but maybe I’m being too hard
on him. While I’m not one to forgive and forget, I am stuck working with him
now that we are allies with Senator Viano.

“No, I don’t have any plans,” I say. I’m direct, and about
as nice as I can force myself to be.

“And your boss?”

“It’s one of his favorite holidays. He will be watching
stuff blow up somewhere.”

“I’m never going to get you to like me, am I?”
Blake comments, changing the subject after a long, serene pause.

“You have no idea how unlikely that is.” That may be the
most truthful statement uttered anywhere near this building today.

“More or less unlikely than you ever
trusting Senator Viano?”
Blake asks. So that’s why he’s here.

“Very slick, Blake.
I don’t trust
either of you. None of us do.” I have daily meetings with Brian, Peyton, and
the gang, and they are very vocal about their reservations with Viano and
dislike of Blake. Say what you want about my generation, but we do know how to
hold grudges.

“I don’t blame you, at least in one regard. I don’t trust
the senator either.” Well, that’s news.

“So why get her teamed up with the congressman?
 

“You guys needed help. She approached me a while back, and I
thought it made sense to at least make the introduction to a possible ally and
let you all make the decision,” Blake explains in a manner that almost sounds
sincere.

“But you don’t trust her?”

“No. I’ve know the senator for a very long time, and she can
always be counted on doing whatever is in her own best interests. For some
reason, she looks at working with Bennit as an opportunity, so your interests
are aligned. So long as they stay that way, she will fight like a pit bull for
you guys.”

“And when they aren’t aligned?”

“We’ll need to walk around with steel plates on our backs to
deflect the daggers she will try to stick in them.”

“Great, there’s something to look forward to.” I study Blake
for a moment, looking for any indication he’s lying to me. My BS meter is much
more active than it was back in high school, probably because the people in
this town make it go off so often. It’s quiet right now, which has me both
concerned and curious.

“Why are you telling me this? What’s your angle?”

“You like to accuse me of always having an angle,” Blake
says with a series of small laughs. “You accused me of that backstage at the
debate once, remember?”

I actually do remember. In the heat of watching Mister
Bennit wipe the floor with his boss, he pulled me aside to warn me that
Beaumont could get desperate following the thumping he took. Blake was right,
but conveniently omitted that it was he who would try to embarrass us through a
baseless claim of an affair.

“Given our history, Blake, I can’t see you as the altruistic
type.”

“Altruistic. Good word. I’m not going to pretend to be
anything of the sort, Chelsea. I’m not perfect, but I’m also not the guy I was
back when I worked for Beaumont. I want you to trust me again, and I know it
will take a long time to ever get to that point.”

“You want me to trust you, or Congressman Bennit to?” I ask,
wondering if there was an implied meaning to his choice of words.

“Both, but I want to start with you. I need to start with you.”

I stare into his eyes and see a pain I’ve never seen before
in him. It’s the kind of thing you only read about in stories printed in
Glamour
or
Elle
magazine. For the first time since I met Blake, it actually
feels like he is opening up and being genuine. I feel like there is a lot of
emotion dammed up inside him that is about to come pouring out, and I am lost
in the moment of it.

“I hate to interrupt … whatever this is … but we have a
situation,” Vince says from behind us. I turn to see Vince staring at us with a
furious look on his face. I’m not sure if it’s because he sees me with Blake or
because of whatever prompted him to come find me here.

Vince stares at Blake with one of those looks you see in mob
movies right before someone gets whacked. While I’m pretty sure the
Orsini
family doesn’t have any real organized crime
connections, he is Italian through and through. Of course, Blake is too, so
this could turn into an episode of
The
Sopranos
real quick.

“What is it, Vince? What’s wrong?”

“Speaker Albright just announced a press conference.”

SPEAKER ALBRIGHT

Three press rooms serve the House of Representatives for
members of the media who report on Congress. These “galleries” are controlled
by a committee of journalists who qualify for press credentials to cover
various media events. For this particular announcement, I cashed in a couple of
favors to get every media organization who wanted to attend approved. For that
reason, this room is packed full.

I stand in front of the lectern with the seal of the United
States House of Representatives on it and against a light oak backdrop that
features panels comprising the Capitol dome in the foreground against a
translucent American Flag. To my right stands Harvey Stepanik, the majority
whip, and several senior Republican members of the Ethics Committee.

Since this is a bipartisan effort, House Minority Leader
Dennis Merrick joins us on the left along with the minority whip and his
contingent from the committee. I get a nod from one of my press assistants who
is
liaising with the correspondents to get the timing right
since this will be broadcast live.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” I say in greeting
before going on to introduce the others on the dais. That completed, I get into
the heart of the matter. “I’m here to announce today that the House Ethics
Committee will hold a formal hearing on alleged violations by Representative
Michael Bennit.”

There is a chorus of sharp inhales from the media in the
room, the looks of shock on their face betraying their usual stoic demeanors.
I’m caught off guard by their reactions because I know this was already leaked
to the media. Hell, I leaked it. Ethics violations aren’t exactly an uncommon
occurrence here. This is the U.S. House of Representatives, after all, and when
reporting scandals ranging from
sexting
to piles of
cash hidden in a freezer, it takes a lot to rile this brackish group.

“An eight-member bipartisan adjudicatory subcommittee
convened several weeks ago and issued a document yesterday concluding
allegations against Mister Bennit are supported by clear and convincing
evidence. The violations in question include: maintaining an improper
relationship with a lobbyist, inappropriate acceptance and misuse of campaign
funds, accepting money for influence, and accepting a bribe.”

The initial display of shock among the correspondents in the
room is replaced by more cynical looks and gestures as I read the charges.
Bennit may not be the media darling he once was, but he’s still well regarded
among journalists in the jaded House press corps. They may be tepid about
running with this story, but their editors won’t be. A scandal with Michael
Bennit’s name attached to it is ratings and circulation gold that no news
organization will choose to ignore.

“A formal hearing will be held prior to the August recess.
As we have had only one other hearing of this nature since 2002, I will make
the formal process available through my office. I will say that it will involve
a trial-like session involving formal charges with lawyers for the House acting
as prosecutors and Bennit’s lawyers, should he choose to employ any, defending
him. I will now take your questions.”

The room explodes in a cacophony of shouted queries from the
floor. I wasn’t expecting this reaction. The press in the Capitol Building is
usually far more muted and less hostile in their questioning. Normal business
aside, even scandals are not typically met with this brazen response.

I answer the first few questions deftly and even defer to
the minority leader
who
seizes the opportunity to
prattle on about the imperative to clean up corruption and abuse in the House.
My intent was not to turn this into a partisan battle, so I take the reins of
leadership back on this lynch mob for the last few questions.

“Mister Speaker, there is an allegation making the rounds on
social media that claims these charges were fabricated in an attempt to
discredit Michael Bennit ahead of the November election. Can you comment on
that?”

Where the hell did that come from? I have had my staff
monitoring social media sites for a few days now and heard nothing. I am not
happy that I’ve been blindsided by this question, and I can only hope it
doesn’t show.

“I cannot comment since I have not seen any such allegation,
but―”

“The story was broke by a small political blog and is a
trending article on sites like Reddit and
Digg
,
Mister Speaker. It claims that Republicans and Democrats are in league to expel
Representative Bennit. It further states that all of the evidence you
previously mentioned was fabricated to that end.”

“Thank you for the recap. Is there a question in there?”

“Yes, sir.
Are you stating that
these reports are untrue?”

Crap. I take a sip of water from the glass on the shelf of the
podium to buy time. I was handed this evidence by the head of the most powerful
lobby in Washington. I have no idea how he got it, and can safely assume he’s
covered his tracks on it. But what if he didn’t? Honesty is never the best
policy in American politics, but I don’t want to get caught in a lie either. I
need to find a way to deflect this and get out of here.

“The subcommittee found no reason to question the validity
or authenticity of the evidence. The accused is a social media guru, and I’m
sure he’ll put forth several defenses in light of these accusations all over
his Facebook page,” I say in a mocking tone. “However, these serious
allegations are not going to be tried on the Internet or in the court of public
opinion. Mister Bennit will be afforded every opportunity to explain his
actions at the committee hearing. Social media will play no role in our
decision. Thank you for your time today,” I finish, ending the news conference.

My attempt at a clean getaway was anything but smooth. The
press in the room shouted question after question, many of them pretty good
ones. What was supposed to be a bombshell about the illegal activities of
Michael Bennit has started to turn into a conspiracy over who is framing him.

Bennit has this uncanny ability to enchant the media in a
way few others can. Even after they realized he used them as pawns in his race
against Beaumont, they are still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
I understand why, since even I got caught up in
Bennitmania
when it was all the country was talking about. I guess that’s what my
colleagues fear most about him.

Personally, I think we are only making the situation worse.
Michael Bennit is going to lose in November anyway, and probably lose big.
Going after him may only reinvigorate his bastion of social media followers. If
that somehow happens, then we may actually have a real problem.

Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands. I can fight this, but
too many people want it to happen now. Money, politics, and power are the
engine of this town, and if I want to keep my seat at the table, I have to play
my role. I may be third in line for the presidency and set the agenda for one
of the two bodies in the legislative branch, but right now I feel I have no
power at all. In that way, I’m not unlike poor Michael Bennit.