The iCongressman (13 page)

MICHAEL

Thomas Parker’s workspace is on the second floor of the
marble monster that is the Rayburn House Office Building. Next door to my
modest digs in the Cannon Building, it is the newest and biggest of the three
structures that provide office space and hearing rooms for all four hundred
thirty-five representatives elected to the House.

Parker is a political veteran of the House, and ironically
one of the fifty Republican districts we targeted for a run by an icandidate.
As a senior member, he gets a really nice office, and I can’t help but be
impressed just walking in. Just one room in this suite measures twenty-five by
forty feet, under a ceiling that has to be twenty feet high.

I get an assortment of strange looks as I walk past his
staff and am shown into his impressive inner office. Now I know what lepers
must have felt like in the
Middle
Ages. The mood
changes when I see the large man’s face light up when I enter.

“Mister Bennit!” he says in an enthusiastic greeting I’m not
prepared for.

“Mister Parker, good to see you again.”

“What brings you to the Rayburn Building?”

“You do. Or more specifically, your niece does,” I say,
assuaging his concerns that this might actually be a social call from the most
radioactive politician in town.

“You investigated?”

“Not exactly,” I say, getting the anticipated look of
chagrin from the man in front of me. “I went up and paid a visit to the
adjutant general.”

“I have to admit that’s much more than I expected. How did
it go?”

“I threatened him, he patronized me,
you
know the drill. In the end, he realized helping a young sergeant was in his
best interests on several levels. To make a long story short, I received a call
from him an hour ago. He took care of the situation.”

“Michael, I can’t thank you enough. Really, I owe you one
for this.” The seriousness of his voice makes me perk up.

“No you don’t. It was my pleasure to help,” is all I say to
see just what he’s implying.

“Michael, you did me a favor when you had no business having
to. I don’t forget things like that. In this town, favors like this mean a lot,
and I trust you will find a way for me to repay it.”

He’s right, that’s exactly how this town works. Favors are
the oil that keeps the machine working, as dysfunctional as it is. I have never
participated in the experience, given my black sheep status.

“Congressman, I appreciate what you’re trying to say to me,
but there is no quid pro quo here. I didn’t do this for a political advantage.
I did it because a young soldier was being victimized by a failure to adhere to
process, nothing more. When I tell you it was my honor to help, and that you
don’t owe me anything, I mean it.”

“You’re a rare breed in this town, Michael. Honor and
integrity are not traits you see around here often.”

“According to your colleagues, you don’t see them in me
either,” I say with laugh. “I have a staff meeting to get to. Please send your
niece my regards and please let me know if General
Reinert
doesn’t follow through on his promise.”

* * *

The walk back to the Cannon building is a short one, and
after spending a couple of moments chatting with some junior staffers in the
outer office, I walk into my sanctuary to find Chelsea, Vince, Vanessa, and
Kylie waiting for me. To my surprise, Blake is also with them. I can only
wonder how he survived this long in a room with Chelsea in it.

“So, what’s the word?” I ask, stopping to give Kylie a kiss.

“The committee said it will meet before the August recess to
make a determination on the allegations and recommend appropriate sanctions.”

“Memorized that, did
ya
, Vanessa?”
I ask, eliciting a smile from my one-time pupil.

“They’re trying to bring a quick end to this before they all
flee town and have to answer questions,” Chelsea concludes.

“And it’ll work. After a few days of coverage, the media
will refocus on the conventions and the race for president,” Kylie adds.

“Well, we hoped they would ask the tough questions following
the Speaker’s press conference and that didn’t happen, so we shouldn’t be
shocked about any lasting coverage.”

“It’s still a two-party town, love. Until
that
changes
, the
Dems
and the GOP will hold sway
over the mainstream media. Information is the lifeblood of news organizations
and they control the flow. Doubly so during the rare times they agree on
something.”

“Like getting rid of me,” I say with a shake of my head. The
others nod. “So why are you here, Blake?”

“Funny, I’ve been asking the same thing,” Chelsea mumbles,
with no attempt to hide her annoyance at his presence.

“The senator asked me to act as a liaison between you and
her. She wanted me to bring you up to speed with where we are in the planning.”

“Do we really need her to help with this?” Chelsea asks.

“She’s right, Congressman. It’s not like we haven’t done
this before,” Vanessa says, picking up the argument.

“Successfully,” Vince chimes in with a sideways glance at
Blake. That dagger went right between the ribs.

“You can’t do this without her,” Blake says in defense.
Unfortunately, he’s right.

“
Wanna
bet?”

“Vince, as much as it pains me to say so, Blake is right,” I
interject. “We may have done this before, but not on a national scale. We don’t
have the ability to pull it off in such a short time frame without help.”

“Our information tech guys say everything is ready to go for
each of the one hundred candidates.”

“Vanessa, can you coordinate with them to have Brian take a
look at their work?”

“That’s not going to be necessary, Congressman,” Blake says,
a little too quickly and defensively for my tastes. “Senator Viano says we have
it handled.”

“And I really don’t give a damn what she says, Blake. Brian
is my IT guy and has a group of people I will put up against the best the
senator can hire any day. If I say he’s to be involved, it’s not a matter open
for discussion.”

“I will relay that to the senator, but she’s not sold that
volunteers can get this done. For the record, I disagree with that assessment
based on firsthand experience.”

Vince, Kylie, and Vanessa all smile weakly at the props he
showed our once fledgling campaign. Blake will never be the most liked guy in
the room, but I actually think over time my little staff will warm to the idea
of having him around.
All except maybe Chelsea.

“Nothing is stronger than the heart of a volunteer,” I tell
him. “And trust
me,
there are plenty of others
throughout this country who are looking to be the next Chelsea, Vince, and
Vanessa for an icandidate. It will all be for nothing if we don’t survive this
hearing in two weeks, though. With that said, Blake, could you please excuse
us. I need to talk to my staff about prepping for my impending firing squad.”

CHELSEA

Anybody who got lost and stumbled into Room 2129 of the
Rayburn Building would instantly know something momentous and important was
happening. In this case, it is the Ethics Committee hearing on the charges
leveled against Congressman Michael Bennit.

When the chairman gaveled the meeting to order at ten
o’clock this morning, it was already standing room only. In a rare spectacle,
every committee member was present and seated in this cavernous room at four
long, stepped rows, measuring fifty feet from one side to another. The mahogany
work surfaces are curved slightly, creating an arc around the focal point of a
single table where the person being questioned is seated.

None of these members’ staff is in view, but they are never
far away. In Congress, we tend to disappear from public view when cameras are
around, and in this particular hearing, there are dozens of them to record
every moment of testimony from each witness.

Mister Bennit is not present for the parade of individuals
being called to testify. I am left with Vince and Vanessa to watch and report
how things are unfolding. As it stands right now, the congressman will be the
last to testify and the only person to speak in his defense. As one might
predict from a hard-nosed Green Beret, he opted not to hire an attorney.

We listen to the lobbyist tell his tale, admitting no fault
in the process. He was simply making a requested contribution to a campaign
fund. He would never believe it would be inappropriately handled. Yeah right.

Chairmen of House committees wield considerable power.
Hearings are usually a forum for testing ideas against reality, or providing
experts and interests affected by proposed legislation a chance to provide
their input. Most of those proceedings are orchestrated, or even scripted, by
the staff of senior members. This isn’t turning out to be any different.

After a break for lunch, a photographic expert is called in
to verify the authenticity of the pictures and dispel any notion that the
images were altered. I am sure the pictures are authentic, and pay scant
attention until the last person before the congressman is summoned to testify.

I let out an audible gasp when the final witness called is
Congressman Reyes. I already know he is about to perjure himself when he raises
his right hand and repeats the oath being read to him. He takes his seat at the
table and the final act of this drama begins to play out.

For the next fifteen minutes, he proceeds to claim Michael
Bennit took him into his confidence about a scheme he devised to earmark money
for personal use since he knew he would not be reelected. He went on to claim,
laughably, that the congressional salary was not enough to cover his expenses
and that he needed some cash.

The questions being asked are softballs, and not a single
representative on the committee is asking for details or proof to substantiate
the allegations. The entire proceeding is scripted, and each of Reyes’s answers
well prepared in advance.

“Congressman, your testimony here has been invaluable in
substantiating all the evidence presented before it. I commend you on your
honesty, and the courage you show by appearing in front of this committee
today,” the chairman says. “I know this must have been difficult considering
you and Mister Bennit
were
close friends.”

“Yes, we were, and this has been very difficult for me to
do. However, I believe that if we are to rid the country of the corruption that
plagues our government, we have to go to great lengths to publically expose it.
The men and women Americans entrust with the reins of leadership should be of
impeccable character and of the highest moral order. To root out the ones who
aren’t, we have to put them on display for the entire country to see. I believe
this is the best way to accomplish that.”

I feel like my insides have been ripped out. I have been
afraid to message the congressman with this because betrayal of this magnitude
is going to destroy him. Mister B is fiercely loyal to those around him, and
Congressman Reyes is his closest friend and ally in Washington. I just never
saw this coming.

Congressman Reyes gets another round of congratulations from
the committee members, and his testimony completed, leaves the table and walks
up the aisle. I glare at him as he walks past me, refusing to make eye contact.
I can’t let this go. I have been boiling with emotion all morning, and now I’ve
reached my breaking point.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” I tell Vince as I slide out
of my seat and follow the congressman from Texas down the aisle. I hear Vince
and Vanessa come up from behind me, and I give them a nasty look over my
shoulder.

“What? You think we’d miss this?”

“What the hell was that, Congressman?” I shout as I catch up
to my quarry in the hallway outside of the meeting room.

“Excuse me?” he says, startled.

“You heard me! You came to us crying about how all politicians
are liars. Congratulations, it only took you a couple of months to become one
of them.”

Congressman Reyes looks around at the small crowd beginning
to gather. Drawn to the commotion, staffers and media begin to circle. You can
count on someone recording this.

“I did what I felt I had to do,” he explains, measuring his
words carefully.

“Leave him alone, Chelsea,” Congressman Bennit says as he
weaves through the crowd to get to us. “Please accept my apologies,
Congressman. My chief of staff is a little emotional and got caught up in the
moment.” Reyes nods, and then walks off, causing the gaggle to begin to
disperse.

“What are you doing?” I ask my mentor. “Do you know what he
said about you in there?”

“I can only imagine, but confronting him publically isn’t
going to fix anything. Let’s focus on what I need to do in there.”

I am at a loss. Where is the Mister Bennit that would have
channeled his Special Forces training and ripped the soul out of this traitor’s
body? Why is he being so passive in the face of treachery?

“You can’t let this go!”

“Chelsea! They got to him,” the congressman snaps. I’ve
never seen him react like this. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Life
sucks, and sometimes when you place your trust in someone, they turn on you. We
have to get past it. The damage is done. All we can do is move on like we
planned and hope for the best.”

“They are calling for you, Congressman,” Vanessa says from
behind me.

“Congressman, the plan won’t work anymore,” I argue,
grabbing his arm as he attempts to pass me. “If you are ever going to listen to
me, it has to be now. The footage won’t be enough. Not anymore. You need to
take the filter off and stomp them. Do something every person in this country
will crash YouTube’s servers trying to watch.”

“Like what?”

“Like the most epic, impassioned, blood-thirsty rant you can
muster to splash on every Facebook page in the country. You need to be the Army
NCO who pisses napalm and has a degree in Murphy’s Law. Show this country what
being a leader means, and be as obnoxious as possible in doing it. You need a
performance so good even ESPN will show highlights of it.”

“That’s your advice, Chels?”

“You hired me to advise you, and that’s my advice, take it
or leave it. If we’re going down, then our foxhole better be full of spent
brass and grenade pins when we do.”

“Nice speech,” the congressman says with a beaming smile.
“You have been hanging around me way too long. Your dad would be proud.”

Vince and Vanessa are smirking at my little tirade. They may
think
it’s
funny, but I’m dead serious. I can’t go on
like this, and if our days here are numbered, I want to make it worthwhile.

“Are you going to listen to me or not?” I ask with way too
much attitude.

“Don’t get your red hair tied in a knot. You had me at
‘blood-thirsty rant.’” I smile for the first time since our meeting at Briar
Point. “If spent brass and grenade pins are what you want, you’re
gonna
want to watch this.”