Balance of Power

rather than later.'

    Calvo studied his empty cup. At length, he asked, 'Do you want language on gun immunity?'

    Fasano suppressed any show of satisfaction. 'No need,' he assured Calvo. 'We've got some language in mind.'

    With that, Fasano went to his meeting with the Speaker of the House.

* * *

    'Why is it,' Tom Jencks inquired with feigned disgust, 'that the Senate is so candy-assed? My members would vote to immunize Lexington from lawsuits without breaking a sweat.'

    Fasano smiled. 'The 'people's House,' ' he countered, 'is so gerrymandered that maybe thirty-five out of four hundred thirty-five seats are even competitive. In the other four hundred, you could elect a tuna sandwich or a pedophile.'

    'Democracy,' Jencks noted comfortably, 'works better as a theory. I truly feel for your burdens, Frank.'

    'They are many,' Fasano agreed. 'And the biggest one is Palmer.'

    'Indeed. I've been wondering how you'd get Sir Galahad to play along with this game of smoke and mirrors.'

    'Hence this meeting,' Fasano answered. 'Give me a few minutes, Tom, to explain what you can do.'

* * *

    When Fasano had finished, Jencks looked at him gravely, his bulky frame settling farther into Fasano's overstuffed leather chair.

    'I have to say, Frank, this one worries me. There's too much that can go wrong, too many moving parts—Mary Costello's supposed lawsuit, Kilcannon, Lenihan, controlling the SSA.' Jencks spread his meaty hands in mock entreaty. 'All that, and now you want me to fuck Chad Palmer for you.'

    Fasano shrugged. 'The SSA's called in its due bill, Tom. All we can do is make this better, or worse.'

    'Better for you.' Jencks's tone became tough and practical. 'If you can pull this off, I suppose you deserve to be President.'

    'It's a time for greatness,' Fasano answered calmly. 'In exchange for his help on gun immunity, I give Palmer a vote on his dream campaign reform bill—the signature moment of his career. And then you kill it in the House, or pass a bill so incompatible with Palmer's that both bills die in conference without reaching Kilcannon's desk. All I need to know is whether you've got the votes.'

    Narrow-eyed, Jencks studied his fingernails. 'What does the SSA say?' he inquired. 'They hated Palmer's last reform bill worse than I did.'

    Once more, Fasano smiled. 'Dane's my very next call,' he answered.

TEN

That evening, Frank Fasano came to Chad Palmer's off ice.

    It was past eight o'clock. Chad felt tired. Since Kyle's death, his stamina had diminished; he was anxious to get home to Allie. But within moments of Fasano's arrival an adrenaline rush of sheer surprise cut through his fatigue.

    'Let me get this straight,' Chad said. 'Once my committee takes up this tort reform bill, you want me to sneak in language wiping out any lawsuit brought by Lara Kilcannon's sister for the slaughter of their family.'

    Unfazed, Fasano nodded. 'That's the first step. After that I want you to accelerate hearings, fight off any effort to strip that language from the bill, and get your committee to send it to the Senate floor with a positive vote. At warp speed.'

    'Because the SSA wants me to.'

    'Yes. Among other reasons.'

    'Now there's an incentive.' Walking to his coffee table, Chad picked up the latest copy of The Defender. 'I was flipping through this last night. Sandwiched between all the arguments that the Founding Fathers wanted everyone to own an Uzi are a few encomiums to me.

    'As I recall, I'm an enemy of freedom, a friend to 'gun-grabbers,' a running dog of the left-wing media, and an advocate of thought control to muzzle patriotic Americans who defend the Second Amendment.' Carelessly, Palmer tossed the magazine in Fasano's lap. 'And what's my supposed sin? Trying to get special interest money out of politics, so that groups like the SSA can't bribe our party by giving us millions of dollars in so-called contributions . . .'

    ' 'Bribery' is nonsense,' Fasano snapped. 'Money follows ideology, not the other way around.'

    'Sure it does. We just happen to believe deeply in the Eagle's Claw bullet. If the SSA didn't line our pockets, we might actually vote our common sense now and then.'

    Fasano folded his arms. 'The SSA has every right to back its beliefs with cash. Rosie O'Donnell can go on TV and pitch gun control for free. The only way the SSA can compete is to buy a seat at the table. You may not like it, but they're as entitled to a voice as anyone else.'

    'Maybe a voice, but not a veto.' Pausing, Chad sat across from Fasano. 'Our party is going the way of the dodo, Frank. We're far too dependent on gun nuts and mindless fundamentalists.'

    Fasano smiled. 'Citizens, you mean. Who happen to vote.'

    Chad briefly shook his head. 'You think you're using them. The truth is you're a hostage.' Chad's blue eyes fixed Fasano with a penetrating gaze. 'Wait until you run for President and discover you can't even admit that you believe in the theory of evolution. Which you damned well know you can't.

    'When 'Darwin' is a dirty word, we're on the wrong side of history. We're pandering to the folks who brought us the Scopes monkey trial and the Costello murders. It's suicide in slow motion.'

    Smiling faintly, Fasano inquired, 'Can I quote you?'

    'Please do.' Chad's tone was quiet but urgent. 'I know this is heresy to most of our colleagues. But the President's right about background checks. The SSA's position is unconscionable—that's how Lara Kilcannon lost her family. By and large, the folks out there will get that.

    'The last election was close, I grant you. But the states Kilcannon won are gaining population, while too many of our states are losing population. If you try to ride this tiger to the Presidency, Kerry Kilcannon will kick your ass from here to Tuesday.'

    Fasano assumed an expression of strained patience. 'Let's stick to the here and now, Chad. On background checks, I mean to offer an alternative bill.'

    'Which'll be Swiss cheese,' Palmer retorted, 'drafted by the SSA.'

    Fasano shrugged. 'Then I suppose I won't be asking you to vote for it.'

    'Why waste the breath? But you are asking me to help the SSA keep its power over the gun industry, while enhancing their power within our party—among other things, to better frustrate the next bill I'm pushing on campaign finance reform.' Palmer cocked his head. 'I'm honestly curious, Frank. Rather than sneak this dead and very smelly rat into your tort reform bill, why shouldn't I oppose it?'

    'For a host of reasons,' Fasano said promptly. 'At least some of which are principled. To begin, these lawsuits are an abuse—Eagle's Claw or no, you know in your gut that Lexington's not legally responsible for lunatics like Bowden.

    'Then there's the trial lawyers. Care to talk about bribery? The Democrats are Bob Lenihan's wholly owned subsidiary . . .'