Levels of Power

by Mike Gilmore

  Miller leaned back in his chair and ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair. He swiveled his chair around to look up at Warren Fletcher. “Warren, what do you think? Can we get the sixty votes to end this and then get the votes to send the bill to committee?”

  Fletcher was about to speak when the door to the Oval Office opened; a secretary brought in a pink message slip and handed it to Fletcher. She turned immediately and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Fletcher read the note and then handed it to the president. He looked at Jimmy and Alison. “That message is from Avery Doaks. He says it is apparent there is at least one other senator prepared to help Saunders and Hanley with the filibuster. He acknowledges that with three Republican senators working together, he doubts if he can get a cloture invoked under Senate Rule XXII any time soon.”

  Miller rose from his chair and moved over to the windows overlooking the Rose Garden. Warren stepped around from the back of the president’s desk to give the chief executive more room. The president folded his arms across his chest. This bill had been working as he had intended. The voters were in favor of the bill, and the polls were showing his improved ratings. All their hard work had been paying off—until this moment. Now they had a mutiny from within his own party.

  He turned back to his senior staffers and the vice president. “Okay. What do you recommend we do to stop the filibuster?”

  Fletcher knew it was his job to speak for the others. “With a Democratic-controlled Senate and Tom Evans likely to be their contender for your office next year, we can’t count on them for help to end the filibuster. We need to bring pressure on the ones causing this problem. We use the office of the president and the American voters to pressure Saunders, Hanley, and whoever else they have lined up for support to give up the Senate floor.”

  Alison spoke in support of the chief of staff. “I agree. With two or more senators tag-teaming, they can hold the floor indefinitely, until enough other senators get tired of the whole mess. They might secretly hate the bill, but we can make the Senate look very foolish the longer the filibuster lasts. Eventually they will get enough votes to bring it to an end.”

  Jimmy Diamond voiced his thoughts. “I also agree, Mr. President. Alison can talk about the disruption from the Press Room, and you can make several speeches to condemn the senators’ actions. In the meantime, Warren and I can work behind the scenes with our legislative aides to persuade other senators to join together to vote to take control of the floor away from Saunders and company.”

  Miller looked down at the two people sitting in front of his desk and then toward Fletcher. His chief of staff gave him a silent nod to confirm his agreement with the plan as laid out by the vice president. He made his decision. “Okay, that’s the plan.” He looked directly at Alison. “I want you to hit them hard from the Press Room. Do not talk about them being renegade members of the Republican Party but about how they are stopping a bill highly favored by the American people. We need the voters to overload them with e-mails and letters condemning their actions so big business will pay their fair share.”

  The president watched his vice president, chief of staff, and press secretary exit the Oval Office, leaving him alone. He resumed his seat, leaned back in his chair, and began to form his plan of revenge against the cabal of renegades. Two or more made no difference to him. Once the bill was passed by the Senate and on his desk for his signature, he would make them pay for their treason.

  Chapter 22

  Washington, DC

  Monday, November 30, 2015

  5:00 p.m.

  Even when he was on an extended leave, the work in Randy Fisher’s office, located in the Russell Senate Office Building, continued. Sally LaSalle replaced the telephone handset on the cradle disconnecting the call from another senator. Why was Senator Fisher not in the Senate today? When would he be back?

  All good questions Sally thought and no answer from the senator still in London. The South Carolina senator’s chief of staff in the Washington office was also chief over his four state offices. She was at a loss for why Randy was extending his stay in London. It could not be an extended vacation as had been listed on his office’s website for the last seven days. She knew Annie Fisher and her parents, as well as Randy’s aunt, had arrived back in the country early yesterday afternoon.

  Yesterday morning Sally had gone on the senator’s computer using the password he had provided when she took the position in his office several months before. Checking on his return status, she had looked to see if he and his party had checked into the airport for their return flight. She had found confirmation for Annie Fisher and the others, but the airline website still listed the senator’s personal flight status as unconfirmed.

  Early that morning she had received a call on her cell phone at six forty-five while driving to work; it must have been early afternoon in London.

  “Good morning, Sally. How was your weekend?”

  Sally had smiled. She had previously worked in the same position for retired Senator Moore but had left when she became pregnant with her one and only child. At the time, she had been forty-one, and her obstetrician had urged her to reduce her workload and stress. Now she was back in her former position, working for one of the most respected men on Capitol Hill.

  “I’m fine, Senator. Are you ready to get back to work? The Senate has a very busy schedule until the end-of-year recess.” She did not ask why he had not yet confirmed his return flight. Maybe he had taken a different plane back to the States and she was not aware of the change.

  “Sorry, but I’m going to have to play hooky today, and maybe a few days more. You’ll have to handle things until I can leave here.”

  Sally was slowing driving in from Rockville, Maryland. The traffic was already at its normal frustratingly congested level. Slowly hundreds of cars tried to occupy the same narrow two lanes for miles behind her. She had finally made it to Whitehurst Freeway and the light at Twenty-Ninth Street NW.

  The senator never missed work. Never once since she had been working in his office or since the South Carolina governor had made his appointment. She was at a loss for words. A horn blast from the car behind brought her back from her thoughts. The light had change to green, and Washington drivers were impatient to move farther down the street to the next red light. She hit the gas and moved the car through the intersection and another fifteen or twenty feet until traffic forced her to stop again.

  “Are you still there, Sally?”

  “Sorry, Senator. It’s the normal morning rush hour here. When will you be back?”

  The voice from 3,700 miles away came back clear over her cell phone. “I’m not sure yet. Something has come up over here, and I’ve got to stay until the picture clears up.”

  Sally was an experienced Washington, DC, political operative. She knew double talk when she heard it. She hoped the senator’s picture would clear up soon, because her picture was suddenly dark as mud.

  Fisher had told her he would update her if his status changed and to call him if any serious problem arose in his absence.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when June Little walked into her office. The holder of the dual roles of secretary and receptionist stood a full six feet tall; the staff believed she tipped the scale at 250 pounds. No one in the office would dare to ask her to confirm the estimate.

  “The senator’s website still has him on vacation. We are getting calls from some members of the press, wanting to know where he is and why we haven’t updated the schedule.” June stood in front of Sally’s desk. She did not have to ask the obvious question.

  Sally made her decision. “Put on the schedule that the senator is taking some personal time off. If anybody asks what he’s doing, just tell them …”

  June completed the statement. “It’s personal and none of your damn business.”

  Sally laughed. “That’s as good a resp
onse as any other, but I suppose we need to be a touch more diplomatic.”

  June laughed back. “I know. It’s personal, and when the senator is back we will update the schedule again.”

  June was back at her desk in the front lobby of Randy’s office when Sally’s intercom buzzed. June informed her Senator Tom Evans was on hold for either Randy or her.

  Sally hesitated for a few moments to prepare what she was going to say to the majority leader. She grabbed the handset once again and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Sally LaSalle.”

  The rich voice of the man she believed would be the next president of the United States came over the phone. “Where is your boss, Sally?”

  Sally knew she could not double talk Tom Evans. “He is still in London, Senator. I talked with him early this morning on my way into work. He’s not sure when he’ll be back in Washington.” She remembered a wise piece of advice from her former boss Robert Moore. “The truth can never get you into too much trouble, if you haven’t caused the trouble in the first place.”

  The senator came back with more questions. “Is he sick over there? Are Annie and all the relatives with him?

  More truth time. “I believe he’s fine, Senator. Annie and her parents and Randy’s aunt all came back yesterday as scheduled. Senator Fisher stayed longer than planned.”

  She could almost hear other unasked questions, but Evans simply offered two statements. “Keep him informed on what is happening in the Senate. Also inform me if Randy’s in trouble and needs help.”

  Chapter 23

  London, England

  Tuesday, December 1, 2015

  7:30 a.m.

  Randy Fisher stepped out of the shower and grabbed a thick towel to dry his body. He could hear the television from the bathroom, and he walked out into the bedroom naked to stand in front of the set. Two news anchors from CNN International sat side by side, rehashing the same information he had listened to earlier.

  He had risen at the normal time to take a run before he showered and then had some breakfast. A quick look at his BlackBerry before he dressed for the outdoor weather showed a number of e-mails.

  The first one he read was from Annie, letting him know they had gotten home safely and all were fine. She mentioned that his aunt Frances and her mother had both enjoyed the VIP treatment offered by Marion’s men from the CIA’s Protection Division. She closed the e-mail by telling him how much she loved him and said she wanted him to come home very soon.

  The next message was from Sally LaSalle. Her e-mail was very much unlike his wife’s. Instead of being filled with endearing sentiment, it was very cryptic. “Senate in uproar over Fair Share. Check out CNN.”

  As he dressed for the run, he watched the news reports about the filibuster started by Senators Saunders and Hanley. At eight in the evening EST in Washington, the American public was surprised again when Senator John Laird from Ohio rose from his desk and asked Senator Hanley if she would yield the floor.

  To the disappointment of the Republican leadership in the Senate, the filibuster continued, with Senator Laird repeating the six reasons why he and his partners could not allow the Senate to vote the Fair Share Bill into committee.

  Other reports were broadcast by Washington-based CNN reporters, who interviewed senators about the filibuster and members of the House of Representatives who had supported the bill and voted for its passage. Interviewed in his office in the south end of the Capitol building, Speaker Larry Frye spoke about the bill and the senators. “We’re disappointed with our Republicans brethren. This bill is favored by a very high percentage of Americans and should be assigned to the Finance Committee in the Senate.”

  Karen Phillips of CNN caught Tom Evans as he left his office in the north end of the same building. “The filibuster has been used for many years by senators in a minority position to stop legislation that would have sailed smoothly through the chamber. The Senate has had many discussions about changing the Senate rules of procedures to eliminate the filibuster option. However, no senator wants to eliminate the rule and prevent themselves from the same ability later.”

  The dainty reporter had to stretch out her arm holding the microphone to reach high enough for the very tall senator not to have to bow down to reach it. “Senator, have you met with any of the three members who are part of the filibuster?”

  “Not yet. They have the floor. Until enough senators are willing to organize sufficient votes to invoke cloture, the filibuster will continue.”

  Phillips came back with another question. “Senator, you are running for your party’s nomination for president. If you receive enough ballots during the primary campaign to win the nomination at the Democratic convention, you will be trying to dislodge a sitting president. It appears the longer the filibuster continues, the more harm is done to the president and his reelection to office. Are you using your position as the Senate majority leader to stop others senators from talking to the three freshman senators and convincing them to release their hold of the Senate floor?”

  Tom Evans’s face took on a very serious look. “Let’s be clear on this, Karen. It is no secret that I am opposed to the president’s bill. I think it is the wrong way to force corporations to pay more federal income taxes. Yes, I am the Senate majority leader, and I could attempt to apply pressure on the three senators to stop the campaign. I could have also made it more difficult for the legislation to even be introduced on the floor in the first place.” Evans stopped to look at the camera. “But I discussed this with Speaker Frye of the House of Representatives and told him I would keep presidential politics out of this legislation process. It is important the election next November is not be used to decide what is happening now in the Senate.”

  Randy left the TV running when he left his room a few minutes after six to head to the elevator and down to the lobby. Washington, DC, was five hours behind him, and he had plenty of time to consider what he might do about the filibuster and the Fair Share Bill. When he walked into the lobby, two tall and muscular men were sitting near the front entrance door. They were dressed in heavy sweat suits with hooded sweaters pulled over the tops of the exercise outfits. Expensive running shoes enclosed their feet. They rose to greet him as he approached.

  The older of the two by several years offered the first words. “Good morning, Senator. My name is Agent Phillip Booker, and this is Agent Charlie Reader. You can remember our names by just thinking of BookReader.” He smiled and continued. “The weather outside is very cold. Are you sure you want to run this morning?”

  Randy looked at the two men. There was no doubt that Marion Bellwood had ordered the two operatives to provide protection for Randy. Booker looked to be in his midthirties, his hair trimmed short and his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Reader was several years younger than Booker and three inches taller than Randy. His black skin was very dark. He looked like he should have been playing basketball instead of working for the CIA. “I suppose there is no choice in whether the two of you come along for the run?”

  The younger man spoke first. “The DDO told us with or without your consent. Your consent would make the time more enjoyable.”

  Randy gave a little laugh. “All right. Try to keep up. I like to maintain a certain speed.”

  To his surprise, the run was enjoyable. The two men responded to his questions and remained silent when his thoughts turned inward. He took the same route as he had the day he spotted the terrorist through the Texas Embassy Cantina window. When they were almost back to the hotel, Randy was slightly amused to see both younger men breathing heavily. Their breaths left their mouths in heavy white streams in the below-freezing air.

  They crossed Trafalgar Square for the second time, only minutes away from the hotel, when Randy slowed to a walk before stopping completely. The two CIA operatives came to a halt and took positions on both sides of the senator. Their eyes moved continually, scanning for any possible
danger. They would have preferred that their protectee kept moving back to the hotel.

  Randy looked around the square and finally rested his eyes on Nelson’s Column. “If you guys were going to set off a bomb or bombs in London, would you select Trafalgar Square?”

  Both men shifted part of their thinking process from pure protection to analysis. Booker spoke first. “The square would be an easy target. They could walk in and drop off the bomb in some sort of backpack and be a safe distance away within thirty or forty-five seconds.”

  Agent Reader shook his head. “The kill ratio would be lousy this time of the year.”

  Randy looked directly at Reader. “What do you mean by ‘kill ratio’? I’ve never heard that expression before.”

  Reader pointed to the open area within the square. “In the early morning hours the square is almost devoid of tourist. The only people here right now are on their way to work. They are crossing through the square to save time rather than following the meandering streets. As the day goes on, the number of people will increase slightly, but the weather this time of the year in London will reduce the possible target number considerably. If this were summertime or the weather better than normal, a terrorist with a bomb would have a higher kill number. It makes no difference to the bomb material if the weather is cold or hot. However, the number of targets in the wintertime is a lot fewer. Your kill ratio is much lower in the wintertime.”

  Randy felt a shudder run up his back. In the Senate later today they would be trying to break a filibuster over taxes. These men were talking about kill ratios and how the body count would be better in the summer than winter.

  Randy rubbed a gloved hand over his face. “Okay. Let’s get inside the hotel. I am meeting Marion for breakfast. Are you guys going to join us?”

  Chapter 24