Balance of Power

    A fresh herd of reporters awaited them. "Ms. Dash," a woman called out, "the Senate Commerce Committee has just voted out the Civil Justice Reform Act, and President Kilcannon has denounced its action as a 'speed record for injustice.' What is your reaction?"

    "We'll complete discovery in sixty days," Sarah answered. "If the Congress tries to pass this law before the public sees our evidence, we're looking at a cover-up."

    The contest of law and politics, Sarah knew, had begun.

PART FOUR

THE

BETRAYAL

MID-OCTOBER–EARLY NOVEMBER

ONE

As a courtesy, Frank Fasano, though Majority Leader, came to visit Chuck Hampton in the Minority Leader's office.

    For a time, amidst the ornate trappings of Hampton's office suite, they chatted about personal things—Fasano's burgeoning family, Hampton's twenty-four-year-old daughter's first job as a reporter, the amusing vagaries of Fasano's adjustment to becoming leader and, as such, a manager of towering egos with conflicting ambitions. To Hampton, it was reminiscent of the more decorous and genteel time he knew only through Senate lore, when politics was more leisurely and less lethal, the veneer of professional respect a balm for partisan rancor. But no amount of civility could change what both men now would face. The murder of Lara Kilcannon's family, and the future of this President, would be resolved on the Senate floor. At length, Fasano said, "We have some business to do."

    Though instantly on guard, Hampton smiled faintly. "Scheduling a vote on the President's gun bill?"

    Fasano maintained a bland expression. "You'll have it, Chuck. Or, at least, a debate on various proposals. All in good time."

    This somewhat delphic response, Hampton knew, conveyed three things: a threat to filibuster Kilcannon's bill; a reminder that Fasano controlled the schedule on which the bill would be considered; and the reality that, through artful stalling, the Judiciary Committee had not yet reported out any

gun bill to the Senate, and might well gin up an alternative. "If you delay this," Hampton answered, "the President won't sit idly by. Nor will I."

    Fasano studied him, as though to appraise the depth of his resolve. "Tort reform comes first," he answered bluntly. "You and I can get it done, or we can go to war."

    " 'War'?" Hampton said dryly. "Over tort reform? This wouldn't be about the Costello lawsuit, would it?"

    Fasano hesitated, and then discarded all pretense. "By suing the SSA, Mary Costello's lawyers have made things ten times worse—for both of us. If any vulnerable Democrat votes against our bill, Dane's going after him."

    This time Hampton's smile was quizzical. "So what do you suggest?"

    "That we both look after the Senate, and our own." Elbows resting on his knees, Fasano leaned forward with an air of candor. "Kilcannon likes wars, Chuck—it's in his nature. And, to be fair, what happened to his wife's family might cause a less combative man to go for broke. It may even be true that his appetite for combat helped him get elected. But it's also the reason your colleagues would never have made him leader . . ."

    "And the reason," Hampton interposed, "despite my exquisitely calibrated judgment—which I'm sure you're about to compliment—that I may never become President. The President's genius wasn't made for the stately rhythms of this body—he lacked the patience for it. His gifts are Presidential."

    "This

President," Fasano said emphatically, "doesn't give a damn about your colleagues. If swing state Democrats support Kilcannon's gun bill, or oppose this gun immunity provision, the SSA will unload on them. And now the business community will, as well.

    "With your help, maybe Kilcannon can bludgeon them into supporting him. But it'll be like handing some of them a glass of Kool-Aid laced with hemlock. Suicide in Georgia or Louisiana."

    "Then shouldn't you be encouraging me to try?" Once more, Hampton smiled. "I thought you wanted our people to lose. Can it be that you don't like this, either?"

    Fasano permitted himself a brief smile of his own. "There are those," he conceded, "who don't find immunizing the Eagle's Claw their most attractive option . . ."

    "Like Cassie Rollins," Hampton interrupted. "So before you worry about my people, spare a tear or two for Cassie.

    "Maine's a hard-core gun state, especially among Republicans. If Cassie votes against the SSA, they'll fund a primary challenge against her, maybe cost her the nomination. But if she votes with the SSA, it'll cost her votes in the middle, and maybe reelection. A painful dilemma, except for her opponent in the general election."

    Fasano shrugged. "We both have problems," he acknowledged. "But how bad they are depends on how big an issue you choose to make it." Fasano's words took on a quiet urgency. "Discovery in the Costello case has been sealed. There won't be any more dramatic revelations—the President and First Lady will have to carry this one on their backs.