Balance of Power

    "We must vote this issue—period—with no rationalizations or excuses. We must demand that our representatives, and our parties, support an end to violence as the price of our support. We must demand that they make protecting victims a first priority of public service, not just a pious wish. And when it's time, we must descend on Washington and call for change until there is change."

    Applause burst from the audience. Lara's voice cut through the sound. "This commitment," she continued, "is not easy. But it will be far harder to explain to the parents and children of those who died, or their children's children, why so many deaths have followed . . ."

* * *

    The audience lingered, wanting to share a word, or simply touch her. Lara moved among them, Peter at her side.

    Turning from the mother of a victim, Lara faced an elderly man with a cane. His face was slick with perspiration, and his rough voice trembled. "I always wondered what it would be like," he told her, "to look into the face of evil."

    Peter grabbed his arm. With an effort of will, Lara held her composure. "Whose face do you see?" she asked. "My mother, or my sister? Or, perhaps, my six-year-old niece."

    A second Secret Service agent moved the man away, still trembling with a rage which Lara would never fathom, his hands balled into fists.

* * *

"How was it," Kerry asked, "in the land of Frank Fasano?"

    She had taken a bath and slipped between cool sheets before returning his call. "For a while I forgot about Fasano," she answered. "This is taking me somewhere different, Kerry. Journalists develop a shield. Now I'm learning not to protect myself." Pausing, she tried to put emotions to words. "I just feel it's good I'm here. Certainly for me."

    "Then I'm glad you are." Now it was Kerry who paused. "Something's come up, Lara. Fasano's tort reform bill has mutated—it would wipe out Mary's lawsuit against Lexington, before Lenihan and Sarah Dash can even start."

    In this moment, Lara felt herself being transported, against her will, back into the world of politics. "That's one way," she said after a time, "of suppressing evidence. I guess you want me to call Sarah."

    "Yes. They need to file in a hurry, with maximum impact. And, if possible, to drive a wedge between Lexington and the SSA."

    "How?" Lara asked.

    Kerry answered with a question. "Do you recall Martin Bresler?"

THIRTEEN

"I'm not naive," Martin Bresler told Sarah in an agitated voice. "If I cooperate with you, sooner or later my name will come out."

    It was early morning, and Sarah's office was quiet. The night before, she had been revising the complaint against Lexington Arms, planning to file in two days' time, when Lara Kilcannon's call had turned these plans on their head. Calling Bresler in Washington, Sarah recited the facts as Lara related them: that Bresler had been working on a voluntary agreement to require background checks at gun shows; that Lexington had been amenable; and that, by destroying Bresler's association of gun manufacturers, the SSA had thwarted the deal and paved the way for the Costello murders. Even over the telephone, Sarah could hear the impact this blunt recitation was having on Martin Bresler.

    "You've got two choices," Sarah replied. "You can cooperate with us in private, and we'll keep your name out of this as long as we can. Or we can take your deposition as soon as we file, under oath, with Lexington's lawyers in the room. Which effectively means the SSA."

    "If I 'cooperate,' " Bresler retorted, "you may sue the SSA. Why would I touch that? I don't think you get it, Ms. Dash. I've got two kids in college, and my career's on life support. I'm just trying to land a job . . ."

    "Exactly," Sarah said in a calm, implacable tone. "I'm offering you a chance to do the right thing in private, which gives you more time to regroup before the SSA finds out. But letting you off the hook is not an option."

    Sarah waited out Bresler's silence. "I'll have to call you back," Bresler said in a defeated tone. Only then did Sarah permit herself to feel a certain pity.

* * *

    With quiet fury, Kerry said, "This is the SSA's Trojan horse. Designed to humiliate me, politically and personally."

    Alone with Kerry in the Oval Office, Chad Palmer remained calm. "Fasano," he answered, "would call that a 'leadership priority.' As for Trojan horses, I must say that you're taking a keen interest in Mary Costello's prospective lawsuit.

    "We have a fundamental difference of opinion, Mr. President. You and people like Bob Lenihan think that lawsuits against gun companies will force them to give you what Congress won't. Others think they're an abuse of a legal system too open to abuse already . . ."

    "Are you supporting this thing," Kerry interjected, "or just tolerating it?"

    "Supporting it," Chad said baldly. "I mean to get it through committee and speak for it on the floor."