The iCongressman (24 page)

SENATOR VIANO

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the
day. With my husband gone almost all the time, it is the only couple of hours
where I’m not bothered.
Except, of course, when Michael
Bennit takes it upon himself to sit in the seat across from me.

“I don’t remember inviting you to sit down,” I say smugly.

“And I don’t remember either asking or giving a shit,” he
responds in kind. I dab the corners of my mouth with a napkin, half tempted to
get up and leave him with the check.

“Just don’t flip the table until I’m finished eating. How
did you find me?”

“Turned out to be easier than trying to pronounce the name
of this place,” he quips, ordering a coffee when the waiter comes by.

La
Chambre
aux
Oiseaux
didn’t seem that complicated to say, but then again, Michael Bennit is a bit of
a Neanderthal. For those who failed high school French, it translates to The
House of Birds and has been my favorite eatery for more than a decade now. Not
only is it close to where I live in Old Town Alexandria, but the food is beyond
reproach.

“At least you showed up without a trail of reporters.”

“I managed to lose the paparazzi on the way out of town. How
long have you known about the resolution?”

“Which one?”
Best
to remain coy and find out how much he knows.

“I didn’t realize we were seated at the kids’ table,
Marilyn. Maybe we should move this meeting to a McDonald’s
PlayPlace
so you can feel more at home―”

“Did you expect this Congress to stand idly by while you
threaten the way they’ve done business for decades?” I interrupt, getting the
point. I already know what he’s talking about. “Lobbyists are going crazy and
are pushing our current crop of legislators to regain control of the situation.
You are removing money from the political equation, and it is making them very
nervous.”

“You’re telling me lobbyists are behind this?” Oops, time to
back track a little. I need to keep my composure and watch my tongue.

“No, I’m telling you they are prodding the parties to go in
the direction the leadership was already heading. Independents are loose
cannons most fear will disrupt the operation of the House. To limit the
upheaval in political order, they will force you all to caucus with a political
party.”

Most of America would have no idea what I just said, nor
would they care. The inner workings of Congress are of little interest to the
public, and this will be no different. The citizens of this country elected
Michael and his misfit toys to do a job and don’t want to hear excuses as to
why they can’t do it. There is no way the majority of the population would
understand that the independents are being sabotaged before even starting.

“They have to know we might form our own party and caucus
because of this. Our current winner-takes-all approach to elections in this
country doesn’t work well with a three-party structure, and its creation will
lead to instability like you see in Europe’s parliamentary systems. It makes no
sense that they would push for this.”

“You’ve publically stated you won’t form a third party.”

“And if I do, now they can paint me as a liar and deceiver,”
he says, finally figuring out a part of the game.

“Now you get it,” I condescendingly affirm.

“They’re playing with a live hand grenade. It’s still a
possibility. Forcing us to join a caucus―”

“Join
their
caucuses, Michael, not caucus with a third party.”

“Thus eliminating the havoc created by having no majority
party in the House and reestablishing the system in place that makes committee
assignments, selects the Speaker, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Precisely.”

“That’s why you were pushing for this on Election Night. You
knew it would come to this.”

I take a long sip of my own coffee as the waiter arrives
with his. Maybe this meeting is more beneficial than I thought. I long assumed
I could not sway Michael over to my line of thinking, but perhaps I misread him
again.

“People are running around Capitol Hill like it is raining
razor blades. What do you think their next step is?” he inquires.

“They need to pass this during the lame duck session. The
votes of the outgoing members are
key
, and providing
cover for those lucky enough to get reelected is a top priority. On occasion,
the House will pass rules that take effect for the next Congress. This is one
of those moments. They’ll announce the new resolution on the Sunday morning
talk show circuit—
Meet the Press
,
Face the Nation
,
This Week
,
Fox News Sunday
…”

“So I need to talk to the independents by then and get them
on board for our own party.”

“That would be my line of thinking. The rules bill is going
to pass—there will be enormous pressure put on the members to vote yes. If you
form a third party the day it’s signed, you undermine their efforts―”

“Leaving them all the political downside
without any of the upside.”
Wow, he actually gets it.

Michael regards me after draining the rest of his cup of
coffee. I will never understand the allure of being a caffeine junkie. I can
almost see his mind in overdrive trying to process what I told him, looking for
flaws in the plan. There are none. Everything is working just like I originally
hoped it would. Maybe I should have approached him far earlier in the process
instead of trying to ambush him on the night of the election. Perhaps all he
needed was a chance to get used to the idea.

“Who would run this new party?”

“We would,” I respond, leaning forward in my seat. “You from
the House and me when I announce a Senate run next year using the same template
in the midterm elections. If we can command sizable numbers in both houses of
Congress, we will have succeeded in forming the third party Americans are
desperately calling for.”

Michael spends a few moments thinking about what I said
while the waiter refills his coffee. One thing I love about this restaurant is
that the service is impeccable. Once the cup is brimming with steaming java and
the waiter moves off, he brings up the subject I was wondering if I would hear.

“We’ve been getting a lot of threats lately.”

“You’re a congressman. Threats come with the territory. I
used to get them myself. I’m sure you’ve received some before today.”

“Not this many.”

“You’re a national figure now. Even more than you were when
you were the iCandidate. Are these cyber threats or letters?”

“Both, but a lot more letters.
It
feels almost ... planned.”

“I’m assuming you’re smart enough to bring these concerns to
the proper authorities.”

“Of course.
They haven’t gotten
anywhere with their investigation yet.” Part of me would be surprised if they
did. If a threat is not immediately determined to be credible or imminent,
things move remarkably slowly.

“Maybe someone thinks they can intimidate you. Independents
by definition are not united and make easy targets.”

“You don’t think that lone crazies are just coming out of
the woodwork?”

“I have no idea, but look at the timing. It would be pretty damn
coincidental.”

Michael is one of those rare leaders who
thinks
about others before himself. A trait he picked up during his military service,
no doubt. I am certain this line of questioning is out of concern for his staff
more than himself.

“Do you think creating a third party will make it stop?” I
exhale, taking a moment to look like I am thinking of an answer.

“If they are mentally unstable people looking to make the
six o’clock news, no, the threat’s won’t stop. If it’s a planned effort by some
groups to influence your vote, then it will. There is strength in numbers,
especially in national politics.”

“Okay,” he says, finishing the rest of his second cup of
coffee before getting up out of his seat. I’ve never met a man more fond of
caffeine. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll be in touch.”

“No problem. I’m here to help if you need me. We’ll chat
soon.”

I can only smile to myself as he walks away.

MICHAEL

“He should be here any minute,” I
hear Chelsea say from my office as I pass by the other staff outside my door.

“He’s here now,” I say with a smile, crossing through the
open door into my office with Cisco right behind me. Fresh off a landslide
victory for the ages in his Texas district, he’s eager to mix it up. I notice
Amanda, Emilee, Peyton, and Brian are all present on the Skype session
connected from a laptop to the big screen television on the wall. “Is X going
to join?”

“He’s got an away game tonight and is in transit. I briefed
him on what’s going on before he left. He sends his best.”

“Who’s he playing, Chels?”

“UNC.”
Oh, that’s going to be a
good game.

I give the love of my life a kiss. It may be the middle of a
workday with media sharks chummed into a feeding frenzy, but Kylie still made
it here to this meeting. I know she is still having problems adapting to her
role as an investigative journalist with the
Post
, but her being here shows how fed up with her job she is. She wants to
get in on the action.

“Before we start, I have a question,” Amanda says over our
videoconference. “Why are they going to this extreme? I mean, it doesn’t make
any sense to me to force people in Congress into a political party’s caucus.”

“This is the most backward thinking organization in the
history of the world,” Cisco remarks, starting the explanation. “I’m surprised
they face forward when they walk. So when Congress tries something dramatic and
unexpected, fear is always the default explanation.”

“To answer the second part,” I continue, “although there’s
nothing in the Constitution that specifies it, a two-party system emerged in
this country. How we elect our representatives in a winner-take-all format
historically has protected that reality, and how we govern is dependent on it.”

“Congress is set up based on a system of a majority and
minority party,” Kylie clarifies to the group. “The majority party elects the
Speaker of the House who theoretically sets the legislative agenda―”

“And is third in line to the presidency should something
happen to the president and vice-president,” Chelsea interrupts.

“Correct, but it’s even deeper than that. The majority sets
the House rules through a very important committee. This Rules Committee is
effectively controlled by the leadership of both parties, and since they appoint
the members, they can replace anyone who is disloyal.”

“And if the independents form a new party?” Brian asks.

“They are counting on the fact that we won’t. Or at least
some of us won’t join one and just elect to remain independent and caucus with
the Republicans or Democrats. If they siphon off enough off our numbers, we
face the same problem we had when it was just Cisco and me.”

“This is giving me a headache,” Vanessa says, rubbing her
temple. “Is this even constitutional?”

“I doubt it,” Cisco says. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s a
House rules issue, so the courts won’t intervene. They have no business telling
us how to conduct our business. Even if they wanted to for some reason, it
would take forever to decide even if it went straight to the Supreme Court. We
elect the Speaker of the House on January third. There would be no time to undo
the damage.”

“So you’re saying the
Republicrats
are going to succeed in making every one of our icandidates choose a side,
knowing many of them will resent becoming a part of the system they campaigned
against.” Emilee is taking this very personally. We use the term “
Republicrats
” when we speak derisively about both parties.
It gets used a lot.

“If it passes, yeah.”

“Will it pass?” Peyton asks after taking all this information
in. Cisco and I nod simultaneously.

“There’s no reason it wouldn’t during this session,” I
explain. Cisco and I will probably be the only two who vote against it.

“There is no way in hell they will agree to join a party
caucus—any party,” Amanda states adamantly. She is in a position to know since
she was one of my firefighters for them during the campaign. Between her and
Emilee, they are familiar with all the people who ran as icandidates.

“Don’t be so sure of that. Yes, they are ideologically different,
but all moderate. You worked with them, but you need to remember who we got the
list of names from last summer.”

“Viano,” Vanessa answers, seeing my point.

“God, I’m so tired of hearing her name,” Peyton adds with a
roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I had to see her face. I met with her over in
Alexandria this morning to confirm what I was thinking.”

“I hope you hid the body well,” Kylie says with an evil
grin. “I don’t want you to be joining my sister behind bars.” I have thought
Kylie would be at least a little upset at the image of her little sister living
out scenes from
The
Shawshank
Redemption
. Quite the opposite is true. She isn’t shy in vocalizing her
hopes that the dog in
The Pirates of the
Caribbean
runs off with the keys to Madison’s jail cell.

“As tempting as that was, she gets to live another day,” I
say, returning the smile.

“I’m surprised she’s not pounding your office door down,”
Brian quips.

“Uh, I may have left her with the
notion that I’m on board with forming this third party. Sometimes letting
people hear what they want to hear is the best way to get them off your back.”
    

“You’d better not be using that tactic with me, Michael,”
Kylie interjects from across the room. The comment draws laughs from the room,
but I’m pretty sure she was at least partially serious.

“We found out about her plan the night of the election, but
I think Viano has been advancing this agenda since the first time we met.
Somehow she’s convinced she holds enough control over the incoming icongressmen
to pull off creating a third party.”

“Okay, help me out here. If this has been Viano’s plan all
along, why does the Speaker think this bill will force all of us into either
GOP or Dem ranks?”

“No third party exists, and we have stated categorically
what we have no interest in forming one,” Cisco answers. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“So Viano is playing him?” Peyton asks, muting the
microphone just long enough to yell at someone I presume is a roommate before
turning her attention back at the screen.

Cisco looks at me and I know what he is thinking. We had a
lengthy chat following my meeting with the former senator about who could be
orchestrating all this. The only image either of us could come up with is the
grey haired “Architect” from
The Matrix
Reloaded
.

“Someone has to be manipulating this from behind the
scenes,” Kylie concludes. “Viano is a smart woman, and she has connections but
is not enough of a player in Washington to do this alone.”

There is a light rap on the door and Blake walks in. In an
instant, the feel of the room has an icy edge to it. Blake has the effect on my
staff these days.

“So the remaining question is who has enough power, money,
and influence to pull that off if it isn’t Viano?” Vanessa poses, doing her
best to ignore Blake’s intrusion.

“Jack Reed,” Blake states, closing the heavy oak door behind
him. I turn to Chelsea in time to see her clam up. “He’s the founding partner
of Ibram & Reed, the country’s largest and richest lobby firm.”

“I know who he is, Blake,” Chelsea scolds.

“That was for the benefit of those fortunate enough not to
work in Washington, Chels,” he defends, pointing at the images of Amanda,
Emilee, Peyton, and Brian on the screen. “He’s the one pulling the strings.”

“Viano’s lapdog wants to offer his opinion,” Vince taunts.

“No, Vince, dogs are loyal and people
like
having them around,” Vanessa piles on, about as happy to see
Blake as Vince is.

“Is it really prudent to discuss this with him here?”
Chelsea asks me. “He’s just going to go running back to Viano and tell her
everything we say.” I’m not so sure about that, but Kylie beats me to the
punch.

“Let’s find out what he thinks first.
So
how about it, Blake?
How do you know Reed is behind this?” she asks
bluntly from over near the window.

“Because, until yesterday, I used to work
for him.”

“What?” the group collectively screams, including my four
staff members joining us virtually over Skype. I quickly look over at Chelsea
who looks like her puppy just died. The wounded look on her face tells me she
didn’t know.

“How did you end up getting that job?” Vince asks, seriously
looking like he wants to rip Blake’s throat out. He was persona non grata in
political circles after turning over the evidence and testifying against my
former arch nemesis, so it’s a valid question.

“After my … falling out … with Beaumont, employment in
politics was a little hard to come by. My aunt called in a favor or two and got
me the job.”

“Okay. Who the hell’s your aunt?” Vanessa sounds like a pissed
off interrogator at a big city police department grilling a murder suspect.

“Marilyn Viano,” I say, guessing, but stating it like I
wasn’t. He nods at me.

I put two and two together pretty quickly while Kylie and my
staff recover from being stunned to launch into a verbal berating of Blake. I
hear epithets ranging from “despicable jackass” to “lying piece of crap” being
hurled at him.

Everything that has happened since the day I decked him at
Arlington National Cemetery is starting to make more sense. Senator Viano has
been plucking our strings like a banjo this whole time. I don’t know what her
end game is, but it definitely is not combining forces to jointly run a
political party.

It also bothers me that Reed is involved, but it qualifies
her original statement at breakfast. She mentioned lobbyists, but I think she
meant Reed. How he has enough juice to get the Speaker to do his bidding I’ll
never know, but his fingerprints are on that bill for sure. The questions are
why and where we go from here?

To his credit, Blake is standing there and taking everything
my staff is dishing at him without defending himself or ticking down a litany
of excuses. There is something to be said for that. Maybe Blake isn’t a lost
cause after all. He has credibility problems which he did make worse. I don’t
appreciate being kept in the dark either.

“Okay, enough,” I demand, putting an end to the verbal
caning. “I think you should have shared this information with us long ago,
Blake, don’t you?”

Blake hangs his head and stares at the floor, not wanting to
meet my stare. “Yes, I should have. I’m sorry.”

“However, you guys all need to realize that he didn’t have
to tell us at all. We may have found out eventually, but he stood in this room
and faced the fury when lesser men would not have. That takes character and
courage, so I think we need to ease up on him for the time being and plan our
next move.”

I get grudging approval from some of the staff, along with
Cisco and Kylie, although it is clear that others don’t agree. Vince is ready
to grab him by his coat and violently defenestrate him. Chelsea is biting her
lip so hard she’s practically bleeding.

“So, how do we stop this?” I hear Emilee ask, but I am lost
collecting my thoughts.

“Congressman?”
Vince asks, trying
to get my attention.

I look at Vince, and then take my time to stare each and
every person in the room, or joining us virtually from afar, in the eye. The
revelations about Blake only add a little more drama to a year that has been a
wild journey. We all thought it was over after the election, but now realize
this roller coaster just blew through the station for another run. Normally I
would welcome an endless ride on Millennium Force at Cedar Point, but this is
ridiculous. Oh well, it is what it is.

“We spent our first campaign trying to teach Americans to
pay attention to the people they elect. Two years later, it looks as if they
started to learn the lesson. Now we have a new crop of students: the people who
got elected, and those who think they can control them.”

“Are you implying we use the same lesson plan?” Cisco asks,
dubious at the notion of the same “mission profile” working again for this. He
may have used teacher’s lingo, but guaranteed he’d rather default to his Texan
roots and use his cowboy boots to start kicking people’s asses.

“Sort of.
We have built an
incredible social media foundation in the country, so let’s leverage it to
engage the public and see if we can stir them up. That’s part one.”

“Do you really think you can go the social media route again
and expect results?” Kylie asks. She’s
right,
we may
have over-relied on our virtual presence.

“The elites are only now realizing that the country is
changing. Good or bad, social media is a fixture for a lot of people, and they
have been slow to recognize its effectiveness in communicating and mobilizing
them behind a cause. We can only hope they remain ignorant.”

“What’s part two?” Brian asks via Skype.

“Part two entails reaching out to the other independents
that will be joining us in January to see how many would jump ship. Then we
convince them not to.”

“Okay, I’ll buy into all that,” Amanda concludes. “Is there
a part three we should know about?”

“Yeah,” Cisco answers, “we figure out how to give Congress a
political
wedgie
.” Well said.