Ballots and Blood Read online

  LEAVING THE OVAL, JAY HEADED down the hall to his own office. Suddenly he saw David Thomas barreling down the corridor, holding a piece of paper in his hands, eyes wide, looking agitated. They nearly ran into each other.

  “What is it?” asked Jay.

  “I just got off the phone with AP in Florida,” said Thomas, his voice high-pitched. “Dolph Lightfoot is announcing he’s leaving the Republican Party and is running as an independent.”

  Jay shook his head and laughed. “So I guess he’d rather switch parties than lose the primary to Jefferson. Ask him how well that worked for Charlie Crist.”

  “It gets even better,” said Thomas. “He’s allowing his name to be placed on the Democratic primary ballot as well.”

  “This guy cross-dresses more than a drag queen on Halloween,” exclaimed Jay. “I don’t think there’s any chance it works, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Thomas. “If Stanley can get the Democrats in Florida to back down, it’s possible Lightfoot could be the Democratic nominee. If he’s elected, he would caucus with the Democrats, and then Stanley holds the majority even if we pick up California. Think about it. Who else do the Democrats have in Florida who can beat Jefferson?”

  “No one,” said Jay. “Get on the phone with Jefferson. Tell him he needs to drop a bomb on Lightfoot. Accuse him of flip-flopping. Have people show up at his rallies smacking flip-flops together.”

  “There is one good thing about all this,” said Thomas, eyes dancing.

  “What’s that?”

  “Now Birch is going to have to support Jefferson for U.S. Senate.”

  Jay burst out laughing. “That really is rich.” He paused, his brain in overdrive. “We gotta win this one. Especially now. It’s a two-fer. We take out Stanley and Birch with one bullet.”

  Thomas nodded and hurriedly headed back down the hall. They had a lot of work to do.

  23

  The so-called “trigger” amendment offered by Tom Reynolds to the Iran sanctions bill failed by two votes in a virtual party-line vote, as expected. Sal Stanley foiled Long again, or so it seemed. But the White House had one final card to play, and it wasted no time doing so. The morning after the Senate defeated Reynolds’s amendment, the Executive Office of the President posted a “Statement of Administration Policy” on the White House Web site, which landed like a grenade on Capitol Hill.

  The legislative affairs office e-mailed the statement to the press and every Senate and House office. It read in part:

  Statement of Administration Policy

  S.R. 6, The Comprehensive Iran Sanctions and Human Rights Act

  (Sen. Susan Warren (D-NV) and 59 cosponsors)

  The Administration strongly opposes Senate passage of S.R. 6, the Comprehensive Iran Sanctions and Human Rights Act, in its current form. The resolution imposes sanctions on Iran’s energy, banking, financial, and import-export industries and, among other prohibitions, would bar any U.S. company, or any foreign entity doing business with a U.S. company, from importing refined petroleum products into Iran. It also would sanction leading human rights abusers in Iran, including business entities associated with the Revolutionary Guard. However, unlike the House version of this legislation, the resolution does not include a provision directing the Director of National Intelligence and the National Security Council to report to the Administration and Congress within 180 days of final passage on the efficacy of sanctions in preventing Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons. For this reason, if S.R. 6 is presented to the president in its current form, he would veto the bill.

  The president strongly supports the sanctions contained in both the House and Senate versions of the legislation. However, by excluding the requirement of an assessment of the efficacy of sanctions and authorizing additional necessary measures, S.R. 6 fails to find the proper balance and will fail to stop Iran’s pursuit of nuclear weapons. The president urges Congress to pass the House version of the Iran sanctions legislation.

  LONG WAS SCHEDULED TO DEPART for the European Union conference just six days hence. His secretary of state urged him to accept the sanctions bill to keep the heat on the Europeans to cut their extensive commercial ties with Iran. But she lost the bureaucratic infighting battle with Truman Greenglass, who advised Long (and this was consistent with his own instincts) that he simply could not compromise on a nuclear Iran. His back against the wall, Long was doubling down.

  Sal Stanley, enraged by Long’s move, wisely (some said uncharacteristically) chose not to rise to the bait. Instead he dispatched Sue Warren to the Senate floor to offer the Democratic rebuttal to the administration.

  She did not disappoint. Warren strode onto the floor a mere thirty minutes after the White House issued its veto statement. Her once luminous hair had faded to dirty blonde with age, her svelte figure now padded around her middle, her shoulders rounded. As she clipped the microphone on her St. John suit, her lips formed into a thin line of lipstick.

  “Mr. President, the administration has issued a Statement of Administration Policy which I find deeply troubling,” she began, pivoting from her hips to make eye contact with her colleagues. “On a bipartisan basis, this chamber is unanimous in its conviction that Iran must not be allowed to possess nuclear weapons. Intelligence reports indicate it either has done so in a primitive form or is on the threshold of doing so.” She held her hands in front of her body, her fingers touching as though she were addressing a jury. “Time is of the essence. We must act . . . now. But the administration has now apparently decided to make what I believe is one of the most important national security challenges of our time a partisan issue.”

  She paused, measuring her words. “The president’s statement is an exhibit in cognitive dissonance. It claims the administration supports the sanctions contained in this legislation, including its promotion of human rights and its support of the pro-democracy movement in Iran.” She wheeled around to face the presiding officer, cocking her head in disbelief. “Yet if he vetoes this legislation, the president will delay the implementation of the very sanctions he advocates, undercut his ability to persuade the members of the European Union to adopt a similar course, and strengthen the hand of the current regime in Iran.”

  Tom Reynolds had wandered onto the floor since Warren began her speech. He sought recognition. “Will the senator yield?” he asked.

  Warren spun on her heel, eyes aflame. “I will not,” she said, biting off the words. “I know the senator from Oklahoma shares the president’s view that there should be a trigger mechanism authorizing military action in the event sanctions fail to stop Iran’s pursuit of nuclear weapons. But war resolutions and economic sanctions legislation mix like oil and water. They have never been included in the same bill, and they should not be combined in the same bill now.”

  Democratic senators faces lit up. Warren had moxie, unafraid to take on a sitting president on the eve of a major trip abroad. Republicans glowered.

  “This is no time for us to send conflicting signals to Iran,” said Warren. “America should speak with one voice. That is why I urge the president to reconsider this veto threat. Does he really want to go to Rome next week empty-handed?” She threw up her hands and arched her eyebrows. “As the lead Senate conferee with our counterparts from the House, I intend to defend the Senate’s position vigorously. I continue to hope we can pass a bipartisan bill of crippling sanctions the president will sign. But if he does not”—she wagged her finger in the air for emphasis—“then his administration will have to accept the consequences for the inaction and delay that will result. And if Iran obtains a workable nuclear weapon as a consequence, it will have taken place on this president’s watch, and he will bear the responsibility for that outcome.”

  Jaws dropped on the Republican side of the aisle. What had gotten into Sue Warren? they wondered. Warren, her face brittle, chin raised, unclipped the microphone and walked briskly up the aisle, trailed by an aide with his head down, leaving the chamber. The Democratic senator
s rose to their feet in applause. The battle was joined.

  As the debate over military action against Iran raged on Capitol Hill, a different drama unfolded at the National Press Club, just a few blocks from the White House. Pat Mahoney’s dogged investigation of Perry Miller’s murder led to the arrest of Hassan Qatani and the rolling up of terrorist cells connected to Rassem el Zafarshan up and down the Eastern seaboard, from Baltimore to New York City. Meanwhile, the more mundane criminal investigation of the dominatrix service where Miller died proceeded largely unheralded. All that changed when Jillian Ann Singer, the forty-two-year-old founder of Adult Alternatives, stepped to the podium at a news conference to discuss her possible arrest on federal prostitution, sex trafficking, money laundering, and tax evasion charges. If the purpose was to make news, she dropped a bombshell.

  A fount of blonde hair fell over her shoulders, chiseled by years in the gym, an occupational hazard of one who took her clothes off in front of cameras. The former porn star wore a conservative green dress with a high collar, her striking blue eyes, and shapely figure suggesting the vanishing beauty of the Playboy centerfold she once was. The effects of plastic surgery and age, and the dark circles under her eyes, were only partially masked by heavy makeup caked on her puffy face. The deep lines in her face and neck bespoke a life of wrong choices and bad luck. Her attorney, a feminist-activist/ambulance-chasing celebrity lawyer who regularly haunted the crime chat shows on cable, stood to her side, jet-black hair sprayed into a bouffant, mauve eye shadow matching her designer wool dress, looking as if she had just stepped out of a beauty parlor.

  Singer cleared her throat nervously. “My name is Jillian Ann Singer, and until recently I was the founder and CEO of Adult Alternatives, LLC,” she began in a too loud voice. Her attorney reached over and adjusted the microphone, moving it farther away. “After spending most of my career as a model and an actress, I founded the company eight years ago to give consenting adults a safe and healthy place to pursue fantasies and explore the boundaries of adult play in ways both non-judgmental and fully compliant with the law.”

  On the front row the press sat on the edge of their seats, their eyes lit up like Christmas trees. The thought bubbles over their heads seemed to scream: Is this really happening? It’s too good to be true!

  In the back of the room, Dan Dorman leaned over to Satcha Sanchez, never one to miss a drive-by shooting. “Actress?” he whispered. “Is that what you call a chick who starred in Lonely Wives, Home Alone?”

  “I haven’t had this much fun since Monica Lewinsky,” muttered Satcha under her breath. “TMZ alert!”

  “Forget TMZ, we’ll have it on page 1, column 1 tomorrow,” joked Dorman.

  “At Adult Alternatives, we viewed ourselves as being in the entertainment business,” continued Singer, her eyes fixed to her text. “We provided our clients, many of whom came from prominent positions in business and government, with an escape from the conformity and convention of their daily lives.” The media perked up at the reference to prominent leaders in business and government. Might she name names? “Adult Alternatives was not a prostitution ring. Sex between employees and clients during paid sessions was strictly prohibited, and that prohibition was included in a written employment agreement. This policy was strictly enforced, and violation could lead to termination of an employee.” She paused. “If employees chose to see clients on their own time, that was their right, but they were not to be compensated.”

  Her defense complete, Singer moved to the money line. “Discretion and confidentiality were the guiding principles of my business from the beginning,” she said, her chin raised. “We always treated the client relationship as sacred and inviolable. However, if the government prosecutes me, I will release the client list to the media and the public.” The press corps rustled in anticipation, seeming to beg, Do it now! “I will do so reluctantly, not to cause public pain for my former clients, but so those clients can verify we never provided sex for hire. This is the only way to vindicate myself and salvage my reputation and the reputations of my employees.”

  Singer’s attorney approached the podium, barely able to repress her joy. In the back of the room, more than thirty television cameras recorded the scene. As the two women stood together, clasping their hands together in support, still camera shutters clicked and whirred. It was a media feeding frenzy.

  “Before Jillian Ann takes your questions,” said the lawyer. “I want to state that due to the ongoing FBI investigation, she will be unable to answer any questions about Adult Alternatives or the circumstances of his death.”

  “Ms. Singer, are you claiming that not a single client of Adult Alternatives had sex with an employee?” shouted the Associated Press. “You expect the American people to believe that?”

  Singer leaned into the microphone. “Yes,” she said. “Our employees playacted with clients, entertained them, and empowered them to actualize fantasies. They did not have sex with clients during sessions on company time.”

  The attorney moved aggressively, a grave expression on her face, and leaned into the microphone. “Just to be clear, the operative word here is ‘during sessions.’ Adult Alternatives had no control over what employees did on their own time, any more than any other employer would. If they chose to see clients after hours, which they may have, it is a free country, and Jillian Ann could not prohibit them from doing so.”

  “Isn’t that a convenient ruse?” shouted Reuters. “So they met for sex elsewhere?”

  “No,” fired back the attorney, who seized control of the news conference, sucking all the oxygen out of the room while simultaneously protecting her client, who gradually assumed a deer-in-the-headlights pose. “It was a written company policy, signed by all employees, and it was in full compliance with both federal and District of Columbia law.”

  “I wonder if I could ask Ms. Singer a question,” said Dan Dorman from the back of the room. Heads swiveled. Dorman was a bigfoot. Singer approached the microphone with obvious trepidation. “Ms. Singer, do I understand you correctly that if you are arrested on any charges, you will release the client list? Or do you hold out the possibility you will keep it confidential in exchange for reduced charges by prosecutors?”

  “If arrested on any charge, I will release the client list,” said Singer, her facial features hardening.

  “Why not release it now.” asked the Huffington Post. “Doesn’t the public have a right to know?”

  Her attorney grabbed the microphone again. “We have no plans to negotiate with the Justice Department or the district attorney for reduced charges. Jillian Ann has done nothing illegal. If charged, we will fight the charges and release the client list.” She allowed herself a slight smile, the ends of her mouth turned up. “If we were to go to trial, which I think is unlikely, we will call former clients to testify. Thank you all very much.”

  Singer and her attorney exited stage left, accompanied by two rent-a-cops with crew cuts and grim expressions hired for the occasion. They ignored shouted questions from the media.

  “Will Amber Abica be charged with being an accomplice to murder?”

  “Did you have any other terrorists among your clients?”

  As the press filed out of the room to head back to the office and write or produce their stories, their eyes danced with undisguised glee.

  “This just got a lot more interesting,” said Dorman.

  “You think there are big names on that client list?” asked Satcha.

  “I sure hope so,” replied Dorman, smiling.

  PHIL BATTAGLIA LEANED FORWARD, HIS elbows on his desk, wearing his best game face. Jay slumped in the chair opposite him, his arms crossed, a studied scowl on his face, looking all the world like a middle-school cutup called to the principal’s office. Lisa sat straight-backed in the chair next to him, a legal pad on her lap, thumbing through a printout of that day’s page 1 mud ball from the New York Times. The headline screamed, “IRS Agent Resigns After White House Blocked Audit of Evang
elist Ally.” The story generated chatter throughout the West Wing all morning about how best to respond. This was the gathering of the war council.

  “I’ve called this meeting at Lisa’s request,” said Phil slowly, his fleshy jowls hanging, his face puffy. “I feel like we’re going in circles. We keep having the same meeting.”

  Jay glanced at Lisa. He didn’t want to go next.

  “The Times story is their usual hit piece,” said Lisa. “It’s based entirely on the charges of a disgruntled former employee at the IRS and anonymous sources at Treasury. It’s pretty ugly. The bigger problem is the rest of the press takes their cues from the Times.”

  “I saw it,” said Battaglia. “They’re conflating Jay’s contact with the White House liaison at Treasury with a decision by a career IRS legal counsel not to proceed with a lower-level recommendation to revoke the tax-exempt status of Stanton’s ministry. They’re trying to stir the pot before the Finance Committee holds its hearings.”

  “Look, guys, I’m a target,” said Jay matter-of-factly. “This is why I didn’t want to come to the White House in the first place. But I’m here now, and this is the price of doing business.”

  Lisa turned to Jay, her eyes open and sympathetic. He felt his stomach jump. A thought rifled through his mind: was she still attracted to him? Or was it just a combination of his imagination and his own deep yearnings?

  “Jay, I know you believe I think you’re a liability to the president,” she said, her voice soft. “But that’s not the case. I know you’re being attacked because you’re effective. You helped save Marco Diaz’s confirmation, you’ve held our electoral coalition together, and you’re critical to us winning control of the Senate in November.”