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Authors: Mikael Carlson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Political, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Teen & Young Adult

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-FIFTY-SEVEN-
 

SPEAKER ALBRIGHT

 

Capitol Beat
is a new political news program run by one of the twenty-four-hour cable
networks. They are putting a special together to discuss the lack of a majority
party in the House and what it means for the country. Obviously, the bill I
introduced is a hot topic for the program since it is the only solution to the
problem unless most of the independents defect. So far, none of them have,
despite our best efforts to woo them.

Harvey Stepanik joins me in my office as the producers of
the show set up the shot and the equipment dogs get to work with the audio and
lighting for our interview.

“He’s meeting with the moderates.”

“When?”

He looks at his expensive wristwatch. “Right now, actually.”

“Hm. Bennit must have finally figured out he was tilting at
windmills relying on the whole social media thing again. How many showed up?”

“I don’t know.
Too many though, from both
sides.
He’s still dangerous,” Harvey concludes, glancing back at the
techs setting up.

“You don’t really think he can sway anyone from our side to
go independent?”

“I don’t think he has the political skill to make that
argument. I don’t think he can entice the
Dems
either, but it makes me wonder what he’s doing.”

“Do you have anyone in there sitting in it?”

“Of course, but we won’t hear anything until after we are
through with this.”

“We’re almost ready for you, gentlemen,” one of the
producers interrupts as the techs finish setting up for the interview.

 

* * *

 

“We are joined now by the Speaker of the U.S. House of
Representatives, Republican Johnston Albright and the Majority Leader Harvey
Stepanik. Thank you for joining us today.”

“Thank you for having us, Wilson.” The sixty-six-year-old
and graying, Wilson Newman has been a political analyst most of his adult life
and the host of
Capitol Beat
since it
went on the air. He has a timeless Sean Connery look, or so my female staffers
have told me when they swoon over his image on the television.

“This has been one of the more contentious lame duck
sessions the country has seen in a while, and it is all because of the rules
bill that you are readying to introduce to the floor. Can you explain to our
viewers what the purpose is?”

“As you know, after the results of the last election were
certified, we ended up with an unprecedented situation where there is no
majority party for the House in the next Congress. Having no majority party is
a threat to how our chamber does business. All this bill does is changes our
rules to force representatives to caucus with a major political party. We don’t
dictate which one,” Harvey says from beside me.

“Even if it is a third party?”

“Correct,” I say. Of course, we’re counting on them not
creating one.

“You gentlemen realize that this is wildly unpopular with
people—only nine percent support the bill,” Wilson says frankly.

The problem with conducting opinion polls about issues is
you are dealing with a very uneducated sample. Americans don’t have the
faintest clue about what this bill means for them, or for the country. There is
confusion among the population even with more familiar laws. According to a
2013 Gallup poll, forty-five percent of Americans supported the Affordable Care
Act while only thirty-nine percent supported
Obamacare
.
They refer to the same law.

“I think there is a lot of confusion in America over this
bill being propagated by its opponents.”

“You’re referring to Michael Bennit and Francisco Reyes?”

“Among others, yes,” Harvey answers.

“Why do you think that is, Mister Speaker? I mean, are they
purposefully misleading the public?”

Thank God for the friendly confines of
Capitol Beat
. Like most political news programs, it leans toward a
particular ideology and asks softball questions designed to keep it in good
standing with core viewers. The liberals have their shows, and we have ours.
Capitol Beat
is one of them.

“Congress is probably America’s least understood
institution. What our citizens need to realize is that Congress is both a
system and a culture. This bill only applies to how the House of
Representatives
does
business and really doesn’t
affect the average American.”

“That’s not what Representative Bennit is asserting. He is
claiming via social media that this is an assault on the country’s desire to
see independent candidates play a larger role in a government long beholden a
two-party structure.”

“Some people see a conspiracy behind everything,” Harvey
dismisses with his charming smile and a little laugh.

“So there is no truth to some of the comments being posted to
Twitter that the leadership of both parties are scared to death of the type of
campaign reforms this new wave of independents could introduce to make it
easier for more like them to join their ranks in Washington?”

“None whatsoever.
I’m surprised
that tweet didn’t include a
selfie
of Bennit wearing
a tin foil hat.” Suddenly I am very happy for my social media cram session with
the intern. I’m going to have to write him a great letter of recommendation.

“Social media aside, even some of the mainstream media are
saying passage of such an unpopular bill could end the Republican and
Democratic parties,” Wilson points out.

“People want their government to work,” Harvey says, beating
me to the response. “This bill will ensure we can continue to conduct the people’s
business with no disruption. I’m sure with proper
leadership,
both parties will flourish for a long time to come.”

That bastard.
Proper leadership is
a subtle jab at me. He just openly made himself a candidate for Speaker while
sitting right beside me for this interview.

There is nothing worse than fighting wars on multiple
fronts. Not only do I have to deal with Bennit, his yahoos that will be sworn
in next year, and apparently a host of moderates looking to team up with him,
but now a conservative in my own party. I knew Stepanik had designs on my
office, but I never thought he would be this shameless.

“So, if this bill doesn’t pass, do you think it could be an
end of the two-party structure?”

“First, I am very confident this bill will pass,” I say, seizing
the momentum from the majority leader. “But if for some reason it doesn’t, I
don’t think electing independents is going to become a frequent occurrence in
future elections. Americans have simply expressed a desire to get better
results out of Washington, and I am convinced the two-party system is perfectly
capable of delivering those results despite the poorly chosen paths we have
been led down in the past.”

Take that Harvey. If you want my job, you’re going to have
to take it from me.

 
-FIFTY-EIGHT-
 

SENATOR VIANO

 

The political lobby has practically become members of
the congressional family. If the news media are the half-siblings to the
political elite, then lobbyists are first cousins. Their numbers are greater
than the journalists who cover Capitol Hill, and from their purses and wallets
spurts the lifeblood of American politics, at least until recently. The
campaign contributions they deliver on behalf of their clients guarantee their
status and build an easy road to success.

The huge sums of cash they doled out are the primary reason
American politics has transformed into a high-stakes game of
Monopoly
over the previous generation.
In 2006, over two hundred eighty-seven million dollars were donated to candidates
for the House and Senate during that election cycle. Three elections later,
that sum grew exponentially. With that much money
comes
considerable leverage and power.

As the black Lincoln Town Car screeches up against the curb
where I am waiting, I begin to wonder just how desperate he is becoming. If
there is anything I know
,
it’s that the true power
brokers in Washington are not going to let one man ruin the gilded age of
lobbying. Too much money and influence is at stake to allow this to continue.

I climb into the car next to the large man who says nothing
in greeting. Mirroring the current mood in town, he is less than amiable.

“What? Not even a good morning?”

“Marilyn, we’ve been good friends far too long for me to
engage in petty pleasantries or mince words. Ya’ll
told
me Bennit was on board with creating a third party. Now he’s out running a huge
campaign against it. Which is it?”

“I told you what he told me, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Then you were a fool to believe him. He either played you,
or ya’ll are playing me. I sure hope it’s the former and not the latter.
Either way, this is becoming a colossal failure and
I’ve no
one to blame but you.”

“Let’s talk about failures, James. You had me approach him
with the idea of running icandidates and funded the venture so you could create
a private legislative army of independents loyal to nobody but you. You laid
the groundwork to get rid of Bennit, but you failed because he foiled your
plan. Turns out he is much smarter than you thought.”

James clenches his lips together angrily. He does not relish
being shown up, and enjoys having his failures flaunted in front of him even
less.

“And the disastrous third party idea?”

“An attempt to save your hide by setting up an organized
party you could easily seize control of, but he hasn’t bitten yet,” I counter.
There is no way Reed is laying the blame for this fiasco on me. I don’t care
how long we’ve been friends.

“I get the feeling you did that more for yourself than for
me.”

“So you come up with the crazy bill to try to force the
issue, only it’s already going sideways on you. Forcing the independents to
caucus with a political party was a stupid idea. If I couldn’t soft sell them
into uniting under a party banner, you should have known you couldn’t hard sell
them into it.”

“I never intended that bill to go to the floor. It was more
of a prop to use against Albright.”

“A prop he’s now taking into an actual fight.”

“Apparently.”

When Reed first approached me with idea, I thought it was brilliant.
Imagine having a cadre of politicians in Washington literally in your back
pocket and willing to vote any way you choose. All we needed to do was get
Bennit to start the ball rolling and then oust him from the House.

Getting him expelled should have been the easy part,
especially when you have the Speaker of the House helping you. Fear is a
fantastic motivator, and everybody, including the Democrats, wanted Bennit gone
because of it. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way and we’ve been forced
to keep changing plans ever since. The third party idea may not have been
exactly what Reed wanted, but it would be close enough.

What we didn’t expect is Bennit’s ferocious argument against
its formation. He has been an honest broker since I met him, and I never
dreamed he would lie straight to my face. With that off the table, the rules
change. James having Speaker Albright introduce it is the only way to force the
issue and restore order.

“So you helped create this meltdown in the House that
threatens the stability of the entire two-party system and your control over
it. Michael Bennit is getting politically stronger by the day, so you have zero
chance of ending up with a legion of independents to control like you wanted.
So, tell me, how do you plan to put the genie back in the bottle?”

 
“I’ve been in this
town a long time, Marilyn. Much longer than you,” he says, looking over at me
for the first time. “Washington is like a powerboat you see in those speedboat
races. You never really control it. You just hope you can manipulate it enough
to reach the finish line without crashing. I didn’t get to where I am today by
giving up just because Plan A doesn’t pan out.”

“Does your Plan B include a campaign of threats to an
elected official to force him to vote the way you want him to?” James flinches
a little.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right.
I’ve been around
Washington for a while too, you know.”

We’ve known each other for a long time, and he was
influential in getting me my seat in the Senate. Of course, part of me believes
he was instrumental in me losing it as well. James Reed isn’t straight with
anyone, even his closest friends. I shouldn’t expect it now.

“I know you’re working behind the scenes on this vote. What
I don’t understand is why you aren’t including me?”

“You really think I should trust you, Marilyn?”

“No more than I should trust you, but our friendship is
strongest and most satisfying when we’re going in the same direction.”

“Are we going in the same direction?”

“If that direction is me being put into a position to help
you, then yes, it absolutely is.”

“Then convince Bennit to let that bill pass.”

-FIFTY-NINE-
 

MICHAEL

 

“How did you find me?” Chelsea asks
as I reach the middle of the bridge.

“I love this place as much as you do. It’s where I’d come to
think things over too,” I respond, taking a deep breath and admiring the scene.

“My dad told you, eh?”

“Yeah, that probably had something to do with it.”

Briar Point is one of the magical places in town. Millfield
is the typical New England village, complete with town green, historic
buildings, and a lot of charm. The old iron bridge that crosses the river
provides the most majestic view of all of it. It’s been closed to vehicular
traffic for decades, providing a great vantage point without fear of being run
over by a truck.

A light dusting of snow fell overnight, marking the
transition from the stunning foliage of autumn to a winter wonderland.
Thanksgiving is behind us, the holiday shopping season is in full effect with
only three weeks until Christmas, and the snow covered trees are now a reminder
that winter is coming.

If the puffy red eyes didn’t give it away that Chelsea’s
been crying, then the tear tracks on her cheeks pounds the point home. She’s in
pain, and I feel ridiculous for not having realized it much earlier.

 
“You scared the crap
out of us, Chels. We were worried something happened to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. I just needed
to leave.”

“Why?”

“I failed you,” she finally says, ending a long, awkward
silence between us. I want her to open up and tell me what’s wrong, but I want
it on her terms. I am just happy that’s the route she’s going.

“Oh yeah?
Since
when?”

“I left. I’m running away from you, and Vince, and Vanessa.
I’m leaving because I can’t handle it.”

“Getting away to get some breathing room and perspective is
not quitting, Chels,” realizing that her shift from the past to present tense
means she is probably referencing the bigger picture. Now I at least think I
know one thing that’s bothering her. She’s made her decision and can’t come to
terms with it.

“It’s more than needing a break. Look what’s happened … with
Blake, and with Viano. I just can’t keep doing this job anymore. All the lies,
hidden agendas, political posturing, betrayal … I don’t know how people live
like this. I can never be happy working at a place where nobody can tell the
truth.”

Chelsea’s waterworks start again, and she dabs at her eyes
with a ball of tissues she pulls from her pocket. My heart aches for her, and I
understand her sense of betrayal. Coming from the military, getting used to
that has been just as hard for me, but I’m also not twenty years old and fresh
out of high school.

“Integrity is a foreign concept where we work. Not only do
the elites in Washington not have it, most can't even spell it. So yes, we have
to deal with people who lie and manipulate, but there’s a universal truth
you need to understand.”

“What’s that?”

“People are going to lie and manipulate at Harvard, too.”

Chelsea’s head jerks around so fast I feel like I sprained
something just watching her. I don’t know if keeping it a secret that I knew
was the right or wrong thing to do. Maybe it would have been easier on her if I
had told her, but I could never find a way to bring it up.

“I’ve known about the letter from Harvard for a while.” From
the look on her face, it’s clear she didn’t have a clue I knew, or how. “The
first call the president of Harvard made was to the office. He tried to explain
to me that the scholarship no longer applied and wondered who would be better
to break the bad news to you, him or me.”

“I don’t understand. The letter said it was still good.”

“I know. It took me a well-invested three minutes to
convince him what a colossal mistake not offering you a scholarship would be.”

“How?
Why?”
is
all my chief of staff
manages to stammer out.

“All I did was
explain
to him that
you will probably be one of the most powerful women in Washington someday, and
that it would behoove him to ensure you are a valued Harvard alum when you are.
As for the second part, why wouldn’t I?”

“You want me to leave the staff?”

“Oh, God no.
Not having you work
would be like going into combat without my rifle.”

“Then I really don’t understand.”

“Chels, I don’t get to make life decisions for you. I was
thrilled when you decided to come to D.C. after you graduated, but I also knew
that you would leave to attend college someday. If that is what your heart
tells you to do, I would never stand in your way.”

“You could ask me to stay.”

“I could, but I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you would. It’s who you are, but I see the
toll it’s taking on you. This is a personal choice, and I will not interfere
with you making it. Just make sure you are doing it for the right reasons.
Running away because you feel betrayed by a guy you like isn’t one of them.”

Chelsea wears shock on her face for the second time in the
span of two minutes. Even in class, it was rare that I was able to do that, let
alone twice in a conversation. More so in the year and a half she’s been by my
side in D.C.

“You knew?” she manages to stutter out.

“No, I’m a guy, and thus an idiot when it comes to
recognizing a woman’s feelings. Or so I was rather
harshly
reminded.”

“Kylie told you.”

“In my defense, I knew something was wrong, but never got
around to asking. That’s been a common theme between you and me since we
started this journey. I haven’t communicated very well with you. I got so
caught up in everything we were doing, both before and since the election, I
never stopped to think about how it was affecting you.
Or
Vince and Vanessa for that matter.”

“Did Kylie tell you that, too?”

“No, I came up with that on my own after some quiet
reflection.” Chelsea looks at me with a hint of disbelief in her eyes. “It’s
true.”
More disbelief.
“Okay, she helped with the
quiet reflection part when she stopped talking to me.” That got a smile out of
her.

“I thought you knew everything,” she responds, seemingly
perking up a bit.

“Ha! I’m going to let you in on a dirty little secret
teachers will never admit to their students. When we’re up in front of the
class, we pretend to know all the answers. But the truth is, we learn just as
much from our students as they do from us.”

“I’m not your student anymore.”

“No, but I am yours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Chels, we were on a sinking ship from the moment we stepped
foot in Washington. So you know what you did? What Vince and Vanessa did? You
grabbed pails and started bailing. While I was running around playing the role
of the typical politician and failing miserably, you guys kept us afloat. The
biggest reason we were even in a position to get reelected is because of you.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“That’s because I’ve done a horrible job telling you how I
feel, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m an old combat vet. Sometimes I still find it
hard to open up. I have always trusted your judgment, Chels. I have never lost
faith in you. You need to know that, even if I don’t always seem to be
following your advice.”

“I’m not always right. Blake fooled me into thinking he
cared about me. Then he betrayed us again to get a job with Albright. I thought
maybe he’d changed, and I’m an idiot for believing that.” Oh, she’s really
going to beat me up over this next little gem.

“He’s not taking any job with the Speaker.”

“Yes he is. Parker told me he was,” she says, thoroughly
convinced of that fact. Our ruse seems to have fooled everyone, including her.

“He was offered. The acceptance part is something I asked
him to spread. He’s not taking a job with Albright, just acting like he is.”

“You asked him to … You
know,
this
is why I can’t do this job anymore!” she cries, flabbergasted at the news.

“Can’t is a word of defeat. You can do it and have been,
it’s just you don’t want to anymore. Honestly, I don’t blame you one bit. In
your shoes, I’d probably be making the same decision. You have done nothing but
sacrifice for the campaign, for me … It’s time you start taking care of
yourself and do what you want to do.”

This is a lot for her to take in. I never appreciated how
bumpy a ride the last year and a half has been for her. Chelsea is incredibly
smart and much stronger than even she knows. Out of fear of displaying
weakness, she has kept a lot of emotion bottled up inside of her until the dam
finally burst. I feel guilty about how much of that I’m responsible for.

“So you’re okay with me going to Harvard?”

“No, I’m not just okay with
it,
I
expect a front row seat at your graduation. I am very proud of you, Chelsea.
What you have been able to accomplish in just a few short years is nothing
short of astounding. You’re not old enough to have a drink and you’re the
veteran of three political campaigns and some very important lessons that we
tried to teach the American public.”

“I feel like a history lesson is coming.”

“For once, no, but there is a request
coming.
We’ve been through a lot in the past year and a half. We
survived reprimands, censures, and an expulsion vote. We work with an ally we
can’t trust and an old enemy we have to. The political parties are bent on
destroying our influence and, to top it all, we’ve been getting a boat load of
threats against our lives. Through it all, you have stood right next to me, for
better or worse. I have no right to ask, but I need your help one last time
before you go up to Cambridge.”

Chelsea has the look of reluctance on her face. It was
probably the same look I had when I realized they all aced their final and I
had to run for Congress in the first place.

“Help doing what?”

“We have one more lesson I need your help to teach.”

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