The Price Of Power

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The Price Of Power Page 35

by James W. Huston


  Stanbridge closed the door to the conference room and looked over his staff. His eyes rested on the T-Rex skull in the middle of the table, a relic from a prior Speaker’s tenure that he had kept, mostly because he liked it, but also because it implied a certain ferocity of action that belonged to Congress, which had been slowly given away over time.

  “Here we go again, people. Pushing the limits of government in all directions,” he said.

  The Speaker loved meetings. They had already had two meetings about the “Rules of Capture” as he was calling what he had proposed.

  The staffers were excited by the new developments. They’d had a fascinating month as members of the Speaker’s staff, and had had experiences no staff had ever gone through.

  “Everyone know what we’re doing?”

  They all knew exactly what was going on.

  “Well, I’m wondering about something else. With the Letter of Reprisal, the President made that big grandstand play, where he walked down the aisle, and vetoed it right after it passed. Tried to take the wind out of our sails Remember?” They did. “Well, how do we stop him from grandstanding again? How do we turn it against him?”

  “Uninvite him to the floor.”

  “Tell him he’s not welcome.”

  “Can’t,” Stanbridge replied. “There’s a rule. Gives him a free pass to the floor. Anybody else?”

  “Don’t have the document ready, say it will have to be sent over for signature.”

  “Not bad,” Stanbridge said. “But I have something else in mind. Rhonda?” he called out, looking around the room for her.

  She was sitting in the back of the conference room, away from the table, slouched down so low he couldn’t see her. She believed Stanbridge always called on her. She felt like the teacher’s favorite student. “Yes, sir?”

  “What are the rules on presentment?”

  Her eyes moved from side to side as she tried to figure out what the Speaker was talking about, hoping for a hint from a fellow staffer. She sat up in her chair and leaned forward, stalling for time. She pretended to study her notepad. Finally she gave up. “I’m sorry, the rules for what?”

  “Presentment.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of a bill. A law. A resolution.”

  “To the President?”

  Stanbridge lit up. “Yes! When do we have to do it?”

  “Well, always.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, maybe not always,” she said covering, based on his tone.

  “What about our vote of impeachment that sent our fine President to trial in the Senate. Do we have to present that to the President for signature?”

  “Well no, obviously.”

  “Why obviously?”

  “Because that would be futile. I think the President would be inclined to veto his impeachment if given an opportunity. Just a guess.”

  The others laughed.

  “But why don’t we have to present it to him?”

  Rhonda especially hated questions that felt as though they had obvious answers but the answers didn’t jump out at her. “I’m not sure. But I think it is an exclusive power of Congress.”

  “Not bad,” Stanbridge said encouragingly. “But does the Senate vote to impeach?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. The House votes to impeach, and the Senate votes to convict.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “So it is an exclusive power of the House.”

  “Okay,” she said, not seeing where Stanbridge was going.

  “Are there exclusive powers of Congress?” he prodded.

  She thought. “Yes.”

  “Sure. And does the House need to present things done by their exclusive power to the President?”

  “No,” she said, getting it. “So this is an exclusive power of Congress?”

  “What is the language of the Constitution?”

  She went on, enthusiasm growing. “Congress has Power to … Issue Rules regarding Captures on Land and Water.”

  “Right. Congress has power. Not the government. Not Congress with the approval of the President. You see?”

  “Yes, sir, I most definitely do,” she said. “But wouldn’t it be the same as a declaration of war? It’s in the same clause. And wouldn’t it be the same as the Letter of Reprisal, which we just went through, and which we allowed the President to sign—actually veto—which then required a two-thirds vote to override?”

  “She’s brilliant!” Stanbridge said, pointing, mostly though to acknowledge that she had finally caught on to the brilliant idea that was his, thereby implying his own brilliance. “I think it is the same as a declaration of war, rare as those are.”

  “So which way does that go?” she asked, ashamed she didn’t already know the answer. “Did Roosevelt sign the declaration of war in 1941?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it. What if he didn’t?”

  “Then the argument would be that Manchester doesn’t have to sign these Rules of Capture, which are a type of war power, and are in the same clause,” she said tentatively.

  “Bingo!” he exclaimed. “So did he sign it?”

  “I don’t know. I mean,” she said, trying to read the faces of her peers to see if she was looking stupid, “we all remember the big speech, ‘A day that will live in infamy’… and all that. I’d be surprised if he didn’t sign it.”

  “But what if he did? Does that mean he had to for it to be effective?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Well, that’s what you’re going to find out for us. Tonight. Before we pass this thing,” Stanbridge said, very pleased with himself.

  “Mr. Speaker,” said Lisa Dunberry, one of the newest Members of his staff, who had graduated from UCLA law school. She was small—always claiming to be five feet tall when everyone knew she wasn’t—and spunky. She was always upbeat. “What about Article One, Section Seven?”

  Stanbridge studied her. “What about it?”

  “Don’t you think it would apply?”

  Stanbridge hesitated. “Why don’t you tell your comrades what you’re referring to. Bring them up to speed.”

  She tried not to smile. “Well, it says that everything that requires joint action of Congress must be signed by the President.”

  “Exactly,” Stanbridge grunted. “That’s the whole issue.”

  “Well, it seems pretty clear to the. Why wouldn’t that apply to a declaration of war?”

  “Anybody?” Stanbridge asked, waiting. No one spoke. He went on. “Because the power to declare war has always been understood to be a power of Congress. If the President can veto it, then it requires a two-thirds vote to go to war, not a majority as provided for in—”

  “You could say that about any bill. He can veto anything. We don’t say that, therefore, two-thirds vote is required to pass a spending bill—”

  “Well, you’ve framed the issue well,” Stanbridge interrupted. “I’ve got to go. Lisa, I want you to help Rhonda research this. I want a hard answer tonight. We’re going to break at ten P.M. I want everyone here five minutes before that. Understood?” Murmurs and nods showed agreement “And for the rest of you, those who aren’t working on the impeachment, I want you researching either this Presentment issue and sharing what you have with Rhonda, or researching the Rules of Capture, to make sure we—and our friend Mr. Dillon—haven’t missed anything. I’ve got to go. Everybody with me? Okay. Ten o’clock.”

  The gym was packed before Admiral Billings and his group arrived. When they finally made their way through the crowd to their table, Dillon’s nervousness began to show. He wiped his damp hands on his pants as they sat waiting for the court to come in. Pettit and Annison sat on the other side, their hands folded in front of them, looking displeased. Billings eyed Dillon to his left and Molly to his right. “When they do something that fast, is that good or bad news?”

  “I would guess it’s good news,” Dillon said. “I think if they were going to p
ut you away, it would take a lot more time to agonize over it. I could be wrong, of course,” he added, trying to cover his bases.

  “All rise,” the bailiff said as the court filed in quickly.

  The judge surveyed the courtroom to make sure everything was in order, his face stern and humorless. “Have the Members of the court reached a verdict?”

  “We have, Your Honor,” Admiral Dodge said loudly.

  “Please hand it to the bailiff.”

  He did, and the bailiff carried it to Captain Diamond. After reading it the judge said, “It appears to be in order.” He looked at the defense. “Would the accused and counsel please rise.”

  Billings, Dillon, and Molly stood and faced the court. The officers on the court avoided meeting their eyes. The judge peered through his reading glasses and read the decision aloud: “In the matter of the United States vs. Rear Admiral Raymond Billings, brought before this court on charges of violation of Article Ninety-two failure to obey a direct order, and Article One-nineteen for negligent homicide, a general court convened by the President of the United States as Commander in Chief. The court being composed of officers in accordance with the Uniform Code of Military Justice. The evidence prepared and offered by the prosecutor, the evidence prepared and offered by the defense, and the arguments of both. Having heard and reviewed the evidence before this court, the findings of the court are as follows:

  “One, the Members of the court are bound by the determination of the military judge that the order from the President of the United States was a legal order. The other Members of the court disagree with that ruling and wish their disagreement to be part of this record. It is their opinion that the order given by the President is not a legal order as it violated the Letters of Marque and Reprisal issued by Congress. The court recognizes, however, that it is bound not to question the law by the determination of the judge and, therefore, must follow and be led by the prior determination of the legality of the order from the President.”

  Dillon balled his hands into fists, hating what he was hearing.

  “Two, the order given by the President, being legal, and being duly issued and delivered, was a valid order that Admiral Billings was required to obey.”

  Dillon could hear the people behind him stirring.

  “The binding order of the President, however, was superseded by the subsequent Letter of Reprisal delivered after the receipt of the order from the President. The Letter of Reprisal superseded the order of the President and required that Admiral Billings obey the Letter of Reprisal. If there was any ambiguity about this course of action, Admiral Billings did the proper thing by notifying the superior authority—here, the President—of his intention to comply with the Letter of Reprisal and not with the order. If the President had wanted him to go against the Letter of Reprisal, a subsequent order may have superseded the Letter of Reprisal itself. The court, therefore, finds that Admiral Billings is not guilty of violation of Article Ninety-two.”

  Billings fought back a grin as relief began to spread through him. Some in the crowd behind him clapped and others began to cheer but were chilled by a glance from Judge Diamond.

  “Three, the charge of negligent homicide was dependent on a determination that the actions taken by Admiral Billings in the attack on the hijackers on the island of Bunaya in the country of Indonesia were not authorized. We find that the attack was authorized and, in fact, required by Congress. There was no intention to harm an American citizen in the attack and, in fact, there was no knowledge that the American citizens were even there. That knowledge may have been within the possession of the executive branch of government which did not convey that critical information to Admiral Billings to allow him to take appropriate steps. Therefore, because the actions in compliance with the Letter of Reprisal were legal, and the attack was conducted with reasonable use of force in compliance with international law and Navy regulations, we find Admiral Billings not guilty of violation of Article One-nineteen.”

  A cheer went up from someone in the back of the crowd as the support for the admiral erupted.

  The judge banged his gavel. “I’m not done! Please remain silent until I’m finished reading the findings of the court.” the crowd subsided, but most of the spectators were smiling.

  “Four, Admiral Billings was relieved for cause from his command of the USS Constitution battle group. That relief for cause was inappropriate based on the findings of the court. Admiral Billings is, therefore, as of now reinstated with full power and authority as the admiral of the USS Constitution battle group. Any reference to his having been relieved or any implication of reprimand shall be removed from his record. Signed Vice Admiral Richard Dodge, United States Navy, President of the Court.”

  The judge observed the obvious glee of the audience and tried to continue to appear stern. “As this court has completed its business, this court is adjourned.” He hit the gavel twice and stood. The admirals turned and filed out. Billings turned to Dillon and grabbed his hand, nearly crushing it.

  “I knew you could do it, Dillon!” Billings beamed, his forceful countenance enhanced by his enthusiasm. “What a fine job!” He turned quickly to Molly and grabbed her hand too, almost pulling it off her arm. “Molly, we couldn’t have done it without you. I think you’re the one who cracked the code on how to get around this thing. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” He glanced at his watch. “We need to get on our way though because I have a flight at 2100.”

  “A flight? Where to?” Molly asked, surprised.

  “Singapore,” he said as Carolyn walked up to his side and hugged him. He put his arm around her shoulder and held her tightly. “I’m off to Singapore.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I called during lunch and made a reservation.”

  “You made reservations to go to Singapore without even knowing what the result of this was going to be?” Molly asked.

  “Oh, I knew what the result was going to be. After listening to the closing arguments, I knew there was no way the court was ever going to convict me. Not a chance. I know how those guys think. If there’s politics involved, they’re going to give an admiral the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Good thing they didn’t try and do this in federal court.”

  Dillon answered. “They did, Molly. I talked to the U.S. Attorney. They got a message from your friend the Chief of Staff, telling them to transfer it over to federal court,” he said.

  Molly was stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I don’t know. I probably didn’t want to get into it,” Dillon said.

  “Well, why didn’t he transfer it over to federal court?”

  “Because Some guy named Harry D. Babb told the Chief of Staff the military had exclusive jurisdiction.”

  “Wow,” Molly said. “Who’s he?”

  “I’m not sure. One of the prosecutors. It was weird. After he told me that, he said he was rooting for us to beat the court-martial.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He just said he wanted Admiral Billings to go back down to the South Pacific and kick the guy’s ass again.” Dillon looked at Admiral Billings, who hadn’t been listening. “Admiral, I’m sorry you got into this, but I’m glad you got out of it.”

  “I wouldn’t have traded this for the world. This was an adventure, but it’s only beginning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because I know where George Washington is,” he whispered. “Blazer’s got a bead on him. I’m going to go down there and finish this.”

  “Not again,” Molly said. “You’re not still going to use that Letter of Reprisal.”

  “No, Dillon has something else in the works. I’m just going to go down there, take over the battle group, sharpen our blades, and be ready to go.”

  Molly questioned Dillon. “What else do you have in mind?”

  “In due time,” Dillon said.

  They fought their way through the crowd to the
car, refusing to answer questions from reporters in order to give Admiral Billings plenty of time to make his flight. After they had pulled away from the makeshift courtroom, Billings said to Dillon, “Carolyn and I would love to take you two out to dinner. I owe you a lot. But I’m afraid I’ve got to get on the airplane. You going to be all right?”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll be fine.”

  “Fine then. I’m going to drop you off at your place, and Carolyn can take the directly to the airport. My bags are in the trunk.”

  “Your bags are in the trunk?” Molly said.

  “You’ve got to operate based on what you believe in,” Billings said.

  He regarded Dillon with his piercing eyes. “You’ve got my e-mail address, right?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “If you need anything from me, ever, just call. You flew halfway around the world to help me. I’ll do the same for you. Whenever you need me, for anything, you call me.”

  “Okay,” Dillon said, finally allowing the relief to work its way through him. “Thanks.”

  “You’ll give me a heads-up before the shit hits the fan in Washington?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What ‘shit’ is going to hit the fan?” Molly asked.

  “The Speaker is going to authorize another attack.”

  “How?”

  “Article One, Section Eight,” he responded.

  “Not again,” Molly said, closing her eyes.

  “Different clause.”

  Molly’s eyes opened and her face was puzzled. “When are you going to tell me about this?” she asked Dillon.

  “Tonight. On the plane.”

  “What plane?”

  “The plane to D.C.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two airplane tickets.

  Dan Hughes and his SEAL platoon stood outside the building known as the kill house, the newest one in the country. A building full of rooms, corridors, and various furniture and mannequins to test the SEALs’ ability to surgically fire live rounds in close quarters instantly with perfect accuracy. The SEAL platoon was dressed in black jumpsuits with black helmets and clear goggles. Each had his weapon of choice, most carrying the MP5-SD3, the sound-suppressed version of the most widely respected assault rifle used by the SEALs. Some, like Hughes, occasionally used the SOF handgun, designed specifically for the special forces. It was Hughes’s turn.

 

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