Balance of Power

    "You never thought I'd be President. You're still amazed I am President. And now you may be wondering if my emotions have overwhelmed what little judgment I possess." A smile played at the corners of Kilcannon's mouth. "After this meeting, I can understand that. But perhaps, Chuck, you should start considering whether I know exactly what I'm doing. Pretty much all the time."

NINE

Francis Xavier Fasano did not lack for self-confidence. He was—and knew he was—attractive, articulate, media-savvy, and an extremely subtle tactician. These gifts had caused his peers to make Fasano the youngest Majority Leader in memory, in the hope that he could heal the damage caused by the downfall of Macdonald Gage, while matching Kerry Kilcannon in youth and determination. But Fasano did not underrate his difficulties. Among them was to propitiate the conservative forces which provided money and activists to the GOP, while ensuring that he neither was, nor appeared to be, under their control. With no group was this harder than the Sons of the Second Amendment—which was why, the morning after calling on the Kilcannons, Fasano sought Senator Gage's advice.

    They met in the well-appointed suite which, one-half year ago, had belonged to Gage himself. To Fasano, his predecessor was a reminder of how unsparing Kilcannon could be. Amidst the fight over Caroline Masters, Mason Taylor—a lobbyist and key supporter of Mac Gage—had tried to eliminate Chad Palmer as Gage's rival by leaking Palmer's permission, despite his pro-life views, for his daughter to have an abortion. This had led to Kyle Palmer's tragic death; Kilcannon's use of the FBI to trace the leak to Taylor—and, by implication, Gage—had forced Gage's resignation as leader. While Fasano doubted Gage had gone so far as to authorize the leak, as opposed to merely failing to restrain Taylor, this was not a distinction which seemed to trouble Kerry Kilcannon.

    For this, Fasano accorded Gage a deferential sympathy which had earned him Gage's appreciation and, at times, sound tactical advice. But Fasano had another reason for this meeting: Gage, Fasano was quite sure, maintained an intimate connection with Charles Dane, president of the SSA, though neither Gage nor Dane acknowledged this. Through what Gage said—or, perhaps, chose not to say—Fasano hoped to divine Dane's thinking.

    "The SSA wants a meeting," Fasano began. "Very private."

    Gage gave the smile which was no smile, the one in which his teeth did not show. Though he maintained the Southern charm and the ami able, shrewd persona of a prosperous provincial worthy, Fasano sensed a bitterness burrowing through Gage like a tapeworm, a wound, inflicted by Kilcannon, which soured his every day. "Well," Gage answered, "they're our friend—a friend in need of friends. Kilcannon's got all the sympathy." Sipping his coffee, he studied Fasano over the rim of his china cup. "What do you suppose they want?"

    "On the surface? To ensure we're loyal. To remind me that I should be loyal. As a substantive matter, to strategize how to beat Kilcannon if he launches a crusade for tougher gun laws. If the SSA can whip him now, with Lara Kilcannon's family murdered, the Democrats will run from gun control like the plague."

    "True enough." This time Gage's teeth showed. "Then maybe they'll replace Kilcannon with you—if you're as loyal as you should be. What more could they want?"

    How, Fasano wondered, could a politician as practiced as Gage seem so nakedly duplicitous. "Perhaps something more immediate," he answered.

    "Such as?"

    "Remember Martin Bresler? He was working on a deal with Kilcannon. The same one Kilcannon later floated to the president of Lexington Arms."

    Gage gazed at the chandelier, as if straining to remember. "As I recall, the gun companies decided Bresler was a bit of a loose cannon."

    "That's one version. The other is that the SSA took Bresler down." Fasano finished his coffee. "Suppose you're Charles Dane. The SSA has adamantly opposed the President's proposed settlement of lawsuits against companies like Lexington in exchange for voluntary background checks at gun shows. Then this batterer gets a Lexington gun—maybe at a gun show—and executes three members of the First Lady's family. What, exactly, do you tell the gun companies now?"

    Fasano watched Gage choose between maintaining a pose of ingenuousness and conceding inside knowledge. "That depends," Gage said at length. "To me, these lawsuits are a terrible abuse: suing gun companies for selling a legal product that some criminal later uses for his own evil purposes. That runs counter to the common sense of the American people."

    Fasano suppressed a smile—never was Gage more disingenuous than when he spoke in pieties. "It does," he agreed. "Or did. Until the Costello murders."