“He’s such a good young man. How is Elisabeth, really?”
“Of course she is tired. But she is safe. Worried about you, though.”
“Her trip was okay?”
“Elisabeth is as tough as you are, John. And baby Josh Jr. was almost nine pounds and he’s healthy as any baby can be. As you requested, Dr. Collins went along with her. The whole group is just fine.”
“Nobody followed them?”
“Nope. That Montana rehab center was a great idea for cover.”
John nodded. “I should be with them.”
“You’d attract far too much attention.”
“I know, I know.”
“You up to this flight?”
“I feel like roadkill on wheels, but I can fly.” John tried to get his raincoat to cover his right side.
Dornan moved to help. “You’re entitled to feel like crap,” he said, tucking John’s coat out of the way of the wheels.
“I just hate to leave.”
“Me too, John. But you’re no good to Elisabeth, your grandson, to the country—to anyone—if they get their hands on the rest of your body parts.”
Dr. Owen smiled grimly. “I do feel like Captain Hook.” He began rolling his chair forward.
Dornan held the door open. “Let’s get the hell out of here, old buddy, what do you say? You and Edge Medical have a new start down under…provided the boss gets there in one piece. The Australian coast is very nice this time of year.”
——
Gabriel was waiting for his car in DC, still absorbing his last his two phone calls. Loud Owl hadn’t talked for long, and he wouldn’t give out his location. But Snowfeather was safe. Gabriel had called Alice at work immediately. “Snowfeather is safe with my sweat lodge mentor. I don’t know any more right now.” Alice had started crying and Gabriel promised her to meet her at home as soon as he finished a meeting with Fowler which had been labelled as routine.
“Meeting? What meeting?”
“I have no idea what it’s about. But I promise not to be long.”
Gabriel had rechecked the directions Fowler’s aide had given him twice while his car was brought around. The meeting was to be in a large private suite at Fowler’s favorite Beltway hotel.
Routine meeting? That’s probably what they told Custer.
Chapter 31
Gabriel stood in the doorway surveying Knight Fowler’s huge hotel room. Fowler, ever slim and patrician, wore a very expensive suit that complemented his silver hair. He was holding the door open for Gabriel.
“Come in, my friend. Please sit down with us.” This invitation was issued with transparently false joviality. Steven Fall, the Vice President, was seated at a linen covered table next to Warren Thornberry, the Senate Majority Leader. Warren caught Gabriel’s eye, frowned, then looked quickly away. The Majority Leader and Vice President didn’t get up from the table.
On a cue from Fowler, Vice President Fall rose and vigorously shook Gabriel’s hand. “Congratulations on the Habitat Act, Gabriel,” he said. “It will be part of your legacy.” The Habitat is old news, Gabriel thought. What is the game here?
“Steven, I’m not ready for legacy counting just yet,” Gabriel said. He sat down in the empty place. The group was silent. “Am I?” He glared around the table.
Thornberry seemed to squirm.
“I ordered some single malt scotch, Gabriel,” Fowler said.
“Coffee will do,” Gabriel said.
Fowler set out two small glasses, sliding one towards Gabriel, who was staring hard at Warren Thornberry. Fowler poured himself some scotch and took his own seat directly across from Gabriel, pouring some in Gabriel’s glass.
“What the hell is this about, Warren?” Gabriel had growled the question. He was still staring directly at the Majority Leader, ignoring that Fowler had just filled his glass. “And where are my friends?”
“We want this handled with delicacy, Gabriel.”
“You want what handled?” There was an awkward silence. “Warren, just get to the point.”
“Fine,” the Majority Leader said. “Did you really send this out?” Warren Thornberry pushed a folder across the linen table.
Gabriel pushed the scotch glass aside and opened the folder. On top was a cover letter on Gabriel’s Senate stationary, addressed to the Police Chief in Los Angeles, California. It was accompanied by a thirty four page attachment: “Preliminary Report of the Select Senate Committee on Domestic Terrorism. The G-A-N: Terrorist Activities and Political Allies.” Gabriel’s signature was at the bottom of the cover letter. Gabriel thumbed the document. Of course he had seen it before. He looked up, his face set. “You know I sent this. You all know that. Warren, how did you intercept this particular letter?”
“The LA Chief’s secretary sent me a copy. I believe you sent this to four hundred police chiefs?”
“Three hundred fifty-five, I think. And to thirty-five FBI branch offices, fifty U.S. Attorneys, fifty state Attorneys General, and to every governor in the country. You have a problem with that, Warren?”
Thornberry glanced at Fowler, as if seeking guidance. Fowler remained impassive. Warren’s face flushed. “It mentions Knight Fowler.”
“So? Knight Fowler is the major contributor in the United Sates to environmental causes,” Gabriel said. “That is a simple fact. We all know that. Knight Fowler contributed to my Senate campaign, and to yours. So what?”
“But he is identified as a funding source for the G-A-N.”
“Yes, I noticed that. If you read farther it also says that there is no evidence that Mr. Fowler was aware of the group’s terrorist activities. Look, Warren. I didn’t write the report. But I know the investigation was conducted with integrity and by competent law enforcement investigators on loan from Justice and that they took over a year. The damn thing was sealed until after the Treat ratification vote. Finally it is out. This is how I see it: The truth is the truth. Screw the spin. The major law enforcement professionals in this country have a right to know about terrorism.”
“Are you aware of Rule 29.5 of the Senate Standing Rules?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That we can expel any member who ‘shall disclose the secret of confidential business or proceedings of the Senate.’”
“The Smith Committee report? You are kidding, Warren.”
The Vice President spoke up. “That report is still confidential, Gabriel. Senator Smith did not have the votes in the full Committee to release it. You knew that.”
“I did?”
“The Senate cannot function if its members don’t respect the confidentiality of its processes.”
“Steve, there were six votes to release the report, six votes against, on the full committee,” Gabriel said. “And a majority of three on the working committee of four Senators wanted it out ASAP. Thurston Smith shared the report with me, as a fellow Senator, as he had a right to do. A majority did not vote to keep the report secret. I had every right—”
“And my vote would have been to withhold it,” said the Vice President.
“With all respect, Steve, the Vice President of the United States does not get to vote on a Senate committee.”
“Gabriel, with all respect, you don’t get to unilaterally violate the Senate’s rules.” Vice President Fall was speaking evenly and calmly. Gabriel suddenly began to understand that the entire meeting had been rehearsed, the outcome pre-decided.
“I did not send it to the press. Although I could have. And I did not mention it on the floor. Although I still can.”
“Gabriel, I understand and appreciate that,” Fowler said. “But rules are rules, my friend.”
Gabriel slowly reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out a fat cigar. The other three men stared at him in prim disapproval as he pulled out his old fashioned lighter and struck a thin flame. Gabriel took a deep puff. “Should have brought my old peace pipe,” he said. “Could have passed it around the table.” He grinned.
“Gabriel, this Friday, I am seeking an expulsion vote,” Thornberry said.
“You are not actually trying to expel me from the United States Senate,” Gabriel said. Then he glowered, blowing smoke across the table at the Majority Leader. “Seriously?”
Warren glanced at Fowler. “Serious as a radioactive spill, Gabriel.”
“I do not believe this.”
“Believe that I have the votes, Gabriel,” Warren said, glancing at Fowler.
Gabriel took another big drag on the cigar. “I’ll just bet you do,” he said.
“We know you have been an important supporter of environmental causes, Gabriel.” Fowler said softly.
“Part of my legacy,” Gabriel said acidly.
“But your opposition to the Treaty, well, frankly it is out of step.”
Gabriel glared so fiercely at Fowler that the older man quickly looked away. “Christ, Knight. Until this moment, I thought you were a decent human being, a little on the edge in some aspects of your causes, but a man of his word. Are you telling me that we can’t disagree? That there is a single environmental orthodoxy? Good God, man, there were a thousand reasons to oppose the Treaty. It gives a non-elected Commission power over the Congress and the people. You and I know what they intend to do. Deny all public access. Freeze out the entire Native American community. My people. But I wouldn’t expect your people to respect that. The Treaty destroys the Bill of Rights. In retrospect, I should never have expected you to respect that either.” Gabriel took a deep puff on his cigar. “So the real reason you white eyes have cornered old Standing Bear is that I voted the wrong way on your precious treaty. One vote out of hundreds in my career. Christ on a crutch.”
“The most critical vote of the century,” Fowler said.
“We agree on that, Knight,” Gabriel said, holding the cigar like a pointer. “It just went the wrong damn way.”
“Senator Smith is leaving the Senate,” Vice President Fall said.
“And why is that?” Gabriel asked, hiding his shock.
“He has an offer from academia,” Fowler said.
“An offer he can’t refuse?” Gabriel stared at Fowler.
“Perhaps,” Fowler said, smiling faintly.
Gabriel nodded solemnly, pausing a beat. “And what is my offer?” He spoke evenly, but with implied menace.
Fowler smiled, pretending to ignore Gabriel’s tone. “My friend, I think you need to spend more time with your family. Maybe start a new business. A casino. Whatever you like. I would like to invest in your future, Gabriel. I was thinking in the range of twenty five million for the business, and an equal amount just for you.”
“In exchange for what?”
“You will leave public life, of course.”
“Resign the Senate?”
“Obviously.”
“And I keep my mouth shut.”
“That is a bit extreme,” Fowler said, affecting a reasonable tone. “Just no ‘tell-all’ books, and no scorching interviews to the tabloids.”
“Just be a good Indian and mind my ‘P’s and Q’s’ on the reservation?”
There was an icy silence. Eventually, Gabriel stood. “No thank you,” he said quietly. He picked up the glass of scotch Fowler had attempted to give him and held it up to the light. Then he set it in front of Warren Thornberry. “You’re still accepting handouts?”
“You’re upset, Gabriel,” the Majority Leader said.
Then Gabriel carefully submerged his burning cigar in Knight Fowler’s scotch. There was a tiny hissing noise in the suddenly silent room.
Gabriel left the hotel room without saying another word.
Chapter 32
Gabriel called Alice again at work. “It was one hell of a meeting. I’ll be home before you,” he said. “No, nothing more from Fred.” Then Gabriel swept through his suite, letting everyone go home for the day. He entered his private office alone, stopping to listen to the click, click of the antique grandfather clock and the faint sounds of traffic outside the frosted window. He walked over and opened it a crack. The outdoor sounds sharpened and a fresh, wet gust of air blew in. Gabriel had actually bribed the custodians to allow an illegal window—one that opened to fresh air. I could have started a window revolution, he thought. Another missed opportunity. A paper blew off his desk, floated like a leaf for a second and descended to the floor. Let it go. Let it all go.
Gabriel found a packing box in the supply cabinet outside and returned to his office. There were just a few precious things. Very few, he thought, considering all the time I spent here. Into the box went an assortment of items.
First was the minutes of a long ago Tribal Council. Gabriel paused to read the first few lines: “On this day, Tall Bear appeared with Little Bear. By acclamation, Little Bear is named ‘Standing Bear.’” Attached was a faded picture of father and son. Tall Bear, in jeans and fringe shirt, dark skin, long braids, and arresting gray eyes, towered over seven year old Gabriel. And Standing Bear, an earnest, stocky brave, looked proudly at the camera, holding the antlers of a buck deer. A youthful Fred Loud Owl stood at the edge of the picture, smiling.
Next was a dog collar which bore the name ‘L’l wolf’ taped to a picture of eleven year old Gabriel and a stocky gray puppy, the snow-dappled pines out of focus in the background.
They were followed by a collection of old western movies, one well worn clay pipe with a long handle, a small, exquisite hawk sculpture, carved out of obsidian and a color snapshot showing Snowfeather at six with her beautiful mother, standing near a teepee by Redfish Lake, Idaho.
Gabriel closed the box and left the building without calling the apartment.
——
Alice arrived home an hour later. “I left early,” she said, hugging Gabriel. “Tell me exactly what Loud Owl said.”
“Fred used an encrypted phone, the kind where there is a time limit. He wouldn’t tell me where he was, but I got the idea he was on familiar ground. He said, ‘She’s with me and she’s okay. Tell Alice everything will be okay.’”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
Alice was crying. “Oh, Gabriel, I was so worried.” She held his shoulders and stared into his face. “Where was Snowfeather!”
Gabriel sighed. “I’m sure Fred didn’t say because he didn’t dare say. She’s probably in New Mexico somewhere. At any rate, Snowfeather is safe under Fred Loud Owl’s protection—we can count on that.” His wife looked unconvinced. “Alice, she is safe.” Gabriel paused. “But I’m just not so sure about us.”
“Shit,” Alice said, wiping her eyes.
Alice never swears, Gabriel thought. “I’m thinking this isn’t our real home, anymore,” he said.
“It never was, Gabriel.”
“I know, I know.” Gabriel took a deep breath. “I’ve got to talk about that meeting. I’ve got the fight of my life on my hands. Can we talk in the kitchen?”
Alice followed him into the kitchen where cheeses and crackers were laid out on a low counter next to a fresh pot of coffee. Then she saw the open packing box on the table, and noticed the handle of Tall Bear’s clay pipe, and the end of a dog collar.
“You were meeting with Fowler?”
Gabriel poured two cups, adding cream to his wife’s. “Yes,” he said. “And I discovered the limits to Gabriel’s Rule.”
“Let me guess. ‘You can’t take every prick’s money.’” Gabriel smiled, and they clinked mugs.
“Alice, the Senate power structure has met and I am toast. Even Steve Fall was there.”
“The Vice President?”
“And the Majority Leader. They intend to expel me from the Senate, next week. And they think they have the votes. So I brought my personal stuff home as a precaution.”
“The votes? But not the grounds.”
“Grounds don’t matter if you’ve got the votes. I’m sick in my gut, Alice. These are my friends.”
“Were your friends, Gabriel. Your real friends are at home, love.”
>
Gabriel pursed his lips. “I feel like making them stand up and be counted. Every single damn vote. A role call of betrayal.”
“You are going to fight it out to the end aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did Fowler offer you money?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t even tell me the amount. I’m proud of you, Gabriel, for turning down that terrible man’s money.”
“So I’ll just fight it and we’ll go from there.”
Alice stared into her coffee cup. “We’ll do just fine with you outside the Senate. A paralegal can work anywhere.” She looked up, smiling. “And we still have the ranch.”
“We do that. The vote to expel me is to be this Friday.” There was a long silence. Gabriel studied his wife’s face. “What?” he asked.
“Gabriel Standing Bear, I want you to think about the unthinkable,” Alice stared into his eyes. “What is the price of winning?”
“What do you mean?” He slid his chair closer.
“They want you to be quiet, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that wouldn’t change, right?”
“My silence?” A light seemed to go on. “Of course not.”
“Exactly. So they’ll be gunning for you every day.”
“You’re probably right about that.”
“Assume you win, get to stay in the Senate, fighting every day. You won’t be silenced even for a minute, so you’ll lose all your committee assignments, all your influence unless you reign in your floor comments and your interviews.”
“You are right about the assignments.”
“And the interviews. Winning won’t give you what you want, Gabriel. Will it?”
Gabriel looked thoughtful. “To speak freely, I need to be outside the institution. You’re suggesting I just quit?”
“Yes I am.” She paused. “Call Governor Wright. He can appoint Judge Foster, your old partner, to serve out your term. We have more important fish to fry.” She paused. “And our daughter to find… ”
As always, Alice is right. Gabriel just sat for a moment; then he released a deep breath. He looked across the little table at his wife with admiration. “Voice of reason. I married the Voice of Reason.”
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