by Frank Perry
shell games since he got to Washington. He hated it. It was the main reason he had doubts about staying there.
He also lied to Laura, at least he’d hidden the truth, which was the same thing to him. He hadn’t been honest with the girl he loved. He came within an inch of asking her to marry him over the weekend but held back. In the recesses of his mind, he needed to tell her about his plans.
Hunter went to college a UC San Diego on a Navy ROTC scholarship. He would have preferred an Army scholarship, but the best offer at his home school was Navy. After graduation, he went active, going to OCS (Officer Candidate School) and was commissioned four months later as an unrestricted line officer, an Ensign. He was a star athlete in high school and wanted a career that would keep him active and physically fit. He volunteered for SEAL training, where he excelled.
As a SEAL, he cross-trained with Special Forces from every branch of the military. He was parachute qualified, expert in underwater demolition, explosives, communications, all forms of weapons, and small team hand-to-hand combat. From the beginning of his career, he’d been involved in special combat missions, most of which were classified and could never be publicized. He had swum out of submarines, jumped from airplanes and helicopters and done almost everything imaginable in combat as a warrior. In his last mission, he was wounded by an RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade) that nearly killed him from the explosion and shrapnel wounds all over his body. Mercifully, nothing vital was hit, and his head was protected by a helmet, but his body had several telltale scars. He had a slight hearing loss, but nothing noticeable. Laura sometimes questioned the scars, but he always evaded her, answering only “battle damage.”
With his long recovery time the Navy wanted to transfer him into a classic line officer role to continue his career in the Navy. SEALs operate outside the mainstream Navy and had limited advancement opportunities. They just liked the profession. Having fulfilled his obligated service and faced with the option of transferring to line duties, Hunter decided to leave the Navy and join the Border Patrol in his home district, San Diego. He had some of the best friendships a human could have with other SEALS and missed their camaraderie.
He’d grown up near the Mexican border in Southern California with many Mexican friends. He spoke Spanish. He looked at the border enforcement role differently than most. He wanted the Mexican laborers to be treated fairly, with dignity. He also hoped that he could provide a more rational approach to drug smugglers and maybe save a few lives on both sides. After four years, he didn’t save as many as he once hoped. When José disappeared and Claire begged him to take over the Washington part of the job, he was ready for a change. He didn’t want Claire going down the same path as José. He had a better chance of survival if attacked than his sister or brother-in-law. He also wanted to finally meet Laura.
She complicated things. She was already in danger just by knowing him. All he could think was, this job really sucks. He’d brought her into his life without even thinking about why he took this job. He hadn’t foreseen the risk of collateral damage when he took it, but now there was that threat. He loved her, but he couldn’t protect her all the time. Mobsters always seemed to have unlimited resources and could get at anyone. They got to him through Sue Ann. Laura was completely defenseless against the mob. So was he when he thought about it. His only advantage was a small element of surprise if someone tried to take Peña on in a fair fight...not likely.
He jolted back to reality when his phone rang again. He mellowed, hearing her voice. “How are you today, sweetheart?”
“I’m good. Did you work out this morning?”
“Yep. It felt good, but I had to run in the rain.”
“It’s a common occurrence here.”
“Yeah, not like California where every day’s pretty much the same.”
She laughed. “Yeah, it is. So, what’s your plan for today?”
He smiled. “I don’t really have one.”
“You want to come by the office and see what we do, maybe meet some people?”
“I’d like that.”
He could hear the clatter of the Metro train arriving at her station. She spoke quickly, “Come by at noon then we can have lunch, too.”
“So, you have an ulterior motive.”
“Hey, you’re the guy with the expense account. Anyway, gotta go. Bye”
He smiled thinking about her. In fact, he didn’t have anything specific planned until he checked email. Leigh sent a message. “Call me ASAP. HAC issue.”
The House Authorization Committee did the same function for members of the House as the SAC did for the Senate. In an ideal world, both Appropriation Bills would mirror each other and, when approved by the members of both houses, would go to the President for signature. It never worked that way. With over five hundred elected politicians all trying to get their piece of pork, the bills often differed greatly. Then it was up to a small number of House and Senate committee members to meet “in conference” to hammer out a draft that was acceptable to a majority on both sides. As Hunter has learned, part of his job was to get agreement between the two staff’s on language that wouldn’t be an issue at the conference. He called Leigh.
“What’s up?”
“Hunter, Romanoff is pressing the House committee for the draft language. You need to get the staffs (House and Senate professional appropriations committee staffers) talking and sharing draft language.”
He hated admitting a blatant lack of experience, “I don’t know the House side.”
She knew he’d never met the House staff. “It’s not a problem. I’ll set it up. When are you free?”
“After two this afternoon.”
“I’ll call you back.”
He didn’t hear from here before leaving to meet Laura. He let the blue line train pass and waited at the Metro station for the yellow line, which was ten minutes behind, but would get him closer to eight hundred Independence Avenue, FAA Headquarters, faster. The agency operates in a highly regimented and regulated environment. The procurement department is one of the best trained in Government and made its services available to other agencies. Laura was in a section dedicated to supporting the Homeland Security Department (DHS), which was a relatively new organization and lacked some of the administrative functions of older institutions in Washington. The arrangement allowed for greater economy in Government by using one agency’s administrative resources for multiple agencies.
Hunter was seated in a forty-foot train car alone until it reached the Crystal City station. There, four other people entered and took seats away from each other. He arrived at Archives station with about a dozen other people and exited alone. No one followed.
Above ground, it was raining lightly, which felt refreshing in late summer. Laura’s building was a short block away. He wore a business suit to be appropriate inside the offices, and in case Leigh called. Laura met him at the reception desk and was about to take him inside, beyond security, when his phone rang. He recognized Leigh’s voice.
“Hunter, can you be at the Rayburn building at two?
“Who do I need to see, Leigh?”
Laura looked politely stood by while he abbreviated the call with his consultant.
Leigh gave him instructions and also some “political insight” that would be needed. He was to meet with Gloria Morrow in room 1051.
“Thank’s Leigh. I got it. Call you later.”
He looked at Laura, “Sorry. Business.”
“No problem. Do we have time for a quick tour?”
“Yep. We don’t need to rush. I’m only two Metro stops away from my two o’clock.”
They had time for a quick twenty-minute tour of the Procurement Department. Most of the people were at lunch, so there were no lingering introductions. The only concession to time was the necessity to eat in the cafeteria.
Tensions eased after a week of normalcy,. The lingering question between them remained Hunter’s
plans for the future. Washington is a transient establishment. Hyperactivity with Government, military, foreign embassies, countless organizations and the mercurial industrial and service companies that support it was constantly churning with people coming and going. Laura was one of the rare people who actually had roots in the Capitol region. For her, it wasn’t a temporary gig. She had always intended to fulfill her career and family ambitions with the Government in DC.
Hunter, on the other hand, typified the majority of people who came to Washington as a building block in their careers. Most of these people lasted two to four years before they left. He was typical. He didn’t have any strong reason for being there except to satisfy his sister until something happened, pro or con, to drug policy. With the massive violence in the Southwest, growing national debt and general dissatisfaction with Government leadership on all levels, something would have to change in the drug policy. No one expected the status quo to continue. Hunter’s immediate mission would end at some point when California no longer needed a dedicated liaison on the subject.
They both knew his job could evaporate soon, certainly before the end of the fiscal year in September. Hunter could be leaving Washington in less than two months, unless he decided to stay, most likely as a junior Government-relations or marketing representative for some company. He would hate it. Laura knew he