Balance of Power

    Putting down his mug, Campton began reading from a typed page with interlineations in red pen. " 'Our sympathy goes out to the victims of the massacre at SFO. The President and First Lady are in the prayers of all decent, law-abiding Americans, including the over four million responsible gun owners who constitute our membership . . .' "

    "Cross out 'massacre.' " Lean, dark-haired and saturnine, Dane spoke in a resonant, commanding baritone which, even when muted, sounded as though it could fill a hall. "It sounds like melodrama from some bad military history—the kind of portentous pap liberals think we stay up nights to read."

    With a sheepish smile, Campton inserted "tragedy" for "massacre," and then continued: " 'We hope this terrible loss of life will engender a common commitment from all spectrums of our society to reduce gun violence by enforcing existing law. What is needed is not more laws, but a new resolve to punish lawbreakers who misuse guns to commit a crime . . ."

    "The problem," Fell broke in, "is that this guy's already punished himself."

    Dane turned to her. "Then the law should have punished him first. Bowden was a wife-beater—the Kilcannons said so on live TV. If they'd locked him up, no one would have died."

    "Do we know where he got his gun?" Fell asked. "Or who made it?"

    "Not yet. Pray that it's foreign-made, and that Bowden bought it on the street." Dane turned to Campton. "Look for some gun law on the books that Bowden violated. There's always something."

    Nodding, Campton returned to his draft. " 'We must never diminish the constitutional right of all Americans to self-defense . . .' "

    "Careful how you phrase that," Dane instructed. "We can't be heard as saying the First Lady's mother should have been better armed."

    As Campton made corrections, Dane turned to Carla Fell. "What about Congress?" he inquired.

    "The problems are worst in the Senate," Fell answered. "We've got four or five wobbly Republicans, like Palmer." Pausing, she took a last quick swallow of coffee. "If I know Kilcannon, he's already calculating how to use this. He's as cold-blooded a politician as ever passed through Washington. His former colleagues may not all love him, but he scares the hell out of most of them."

    "So do we," Dane answered. "We can't let them forget that."

    The telephone rang. "Speaking of which," Fell informed the others, "that's our conference call with Frank Fasano."

    Dane pushed the button for the speakerphone. "Charles?" Fasano began.

    "Good morning, Frank," Dane said to the Senate Majority Leader. "If you can call it that under the circumstances. This is a tragedy, and a threat to gun rights."

    "I'll be making a statement shortly, saying just that. Except the part about the threat." Fasano's voice was sober. "Imagine losing most of your family. I feel for them—her especially."

    "Kilcannon will want more laws," Dane responded. "He'll use her to get them."

    Fasano was silent. "He may well succeed," he said at length. "Before he does, we should consider whether there's something symbolic we can give him."

    It was time, Dane decided, to be blunt. "We expect you to stand firm, Frank. We've spent a lot of time and money keeping you in the majority."

    "I haven't forgotten," Fasano answered with equal directness. "But let me give you some advice—disappear. This is the President's moment: he can say whatever he wants, but

you can't be seen as playing politics with the First Lady's misery. Lie low, Charles—your moment will come in time."

    "How long?"

    "Kilcannon can't move too fast—it would look unseemly, like he's exploiting his wife's dead relatives. I control the Senate agenda, so I can string this out. The more time passes, the more passions will cool."

    "What about Chuck Hampton?" Carla Fell inquired.

    "The Democrats have problems, too," Fasano answered crisply. "If some of Hampton's people never have to vote on a gun bill again, they'd bow and kiss his feet. Or mine."

    Glancing at Fell, Dane slowly shook his head. "Kilcannon may not let them off the hook," he said. "The folks who say all liberals are wimps forget to account for him."

    Over the speaker box, Fasano's laugh was low and humorless. "That's how I got my job—the last one to get in Kerry Kilcannon's way was Macdonald Gage. In twenty-four hours Mac went from the third most powerful man in America to a walking corpse. It took him almost that long to fathom he was already dead." Softly, Fasano finished, "Don't worry, Charles. My reflexes are sharper."

    With that, Fasano got off.

* * *

    In the kitchen of his Vermont farm, Senator Minority Leader Chuck Hampton ate bacon and eggs and monitored MSNBC. As he finished, the picture became a live shot of Kerry and Lara Kilcannon boarding Air Force One.

    The President and First Lady are expected to arrive in California at twelveseventeen, Pacific Daylight Time . . .