Abuse of Power

"As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer my wife - if you ever were," he said bitterly, "and you don't get to ask me to do anything, now or ever again!" With that he rang off, wishing for a way he could slam down a cellphone.

When he walked back inside, Helen was waiting. "How did it go?" she asked sympathetically.

"About like you'd expect," Jake said. "It was all denial and delay: 'I didn't know anything; we need to talk; don't be hasty.'"

Seeing the play of emotions on his face, she took him by the arm and led him inside to the den. "Just for a little while, you need to try to get your mind off all this mess. There's a ballgame on TV - come watch it with me. We can see how bad the Nationals are going to be this season. I'll fix us some sandwiches, and I thought I saw some imported beer in the refrigerator. Come on."

Reluctantly Jake allowed her to take charge. But to his surprise, after a while he found himself relaxing as they watched the game. He even exchanged caustic comments with her about how instant replay was ruining the game. For the most part he found he was able to compartmentalize his emotions; the only time the pain threatened to break out was when he had to watch commercials featuring happy families at play. Helen wisely didn't try to intervene, but she did steer him gently back to more innocuous topics when the opportunity arose.

At the end of the evening, Helen walked Jake back to his room. At the door, she gave him a hug. "It will get better, Jake, I promise. You've taken the first step by discovering the truth; now at least you know what you're dealing with."

"I hope you're right, Helen, but this has all been so overwhelming," he said.

She stood there watching sympathetically as he closed the door. She knew that sleep would be a long time coming for him.

The next morning the two of them were eating breakfast when the butler made a sudden appearance. "There's a gentleman at the door from the Federal Bureau of Investigation," he said solemnly. "He says he'd like to speak to Mr. Phillips. What shall I tell him?"

Jake and Helen looked at each other; then Jake got a determined expression on his face. "I'll be right there," he said.

"Wait a second," Helen said, and slipped on her shoulder holster with the black Sig Sauer. Then she followed Jake to the door and stood where her weapon was visible.

The man at the front door was waiting patiently with his hands clasped in front of him. When Jake pulled the door open, the man held up his credentials for Jake to see and inquired politely, "Mr. Jacob Phillips?"

When Jake acknowledged him, the agent continued, "Sir, the President of the United States would like to see you at the White House immediately. I've been instructed to drive you there."

Jake looked back at Helen, and she mouthed something to him.

"I'm willing to go to the White House now," Jake told the man, "but I prefer my own transportation."

The agent shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself, sir," he said, and turned and left.

Jake and Helen quickly got ready and sped off toward Pennsylvania Avenue. "I don't think they'd try anything now," she said to Jake, "but I'm going to take the most public route possible. It doesn't hurt to play it safe."

"I wonder how they found out where I was?" Jake asked.

"I think we underestimated how badly they want to locate you," Helen said. "They must have put a full-court press on immediately after your call to Catherine last night."

When they reached the White House, the agent they'd met earlier was waiting for him. Helen reached over and squeezed Jake's hand. "Good luck," she said, and then he was walking up the steps to the entrance.

The agent led Jake through the ornately decorated hallways until they turned off into a small office with nothing but a table and what appeared to be an airport metal detector inside. "Your cellphone, please," the agent asked. Jake handed it over reluctantly because he'd been hoping to record his encounter with the President.

Next the agent asked, "Are you wearing a wire?" Jake shook his head in the negative. "Any kind of electronic devices?" Again, no. "Do you have a pacemaker?"

"No," Jake said. "What's this all about?"

The agent pointed at the device next to the table with a sly grin. "If you've got any kind of electronic device on you, this baby will fry it and probably you as well!"

When he motioned toward the device, Jake walked through it nervously but without incident. The agent then led him down the hall and held the door open for him to enter what was unmistakably the Oval Office. "Go on in and have a seat. The President will be with you momentarily."

Jake walked over to one of the chairs in front of the President's desk and sat down. After a moment he began to stare around him. Even though Catherine had worked as a presidential aide for half-a-dozen years, Jake had never seen the Oval Office before, and he couldn't help but marvel at being in this seat of world power. "It's easy to see how you could get swept up by all this," he thought.

Just then a door opened behind him, and when Jake swiveled around to look he saw the unmistakable figure of Calvin Pressman striding toward him. Even though he now loathed the man who stood before him, Jake automatically rose out of an instinctive respect for the office Pressman held.

The President made no offer to shake Jake's hand nor did he speak. Instead he beckoned Jake to follow him. They passed through a door that Jake hadn't even noticed, went through a vestibule, out a second door and suddenly emerged into the bright sunlight of a late spring day on the back lawn of the White House.

"This is a better place for us to talk," the President said, but when Jake started to respond the big man held up his hand for silence. Then he spoke, seemingly into the open air. "Do not record. This conversation is privileged, personal and confidential." Jake glanced around but could see nothing that might record their conversation.

The President then began walking, and Jake hastened to follow. "I like it on this side," Pressman said. "Everybody talks about the Rose Garden, but this time of year I think the Kennedy Garden is prettier."

Jake looked up at the taller man and said bluntly, "I don't imagine you called me down here to discuss spring flowers, Mr. President."

Pressman gave a little grin. "No beating about the bushes with you, is there Jake? Well, you're right, of course. I brought you here to talk about Catherine."

Jake felt the anger bubbling up inside him. "I know all about you and Catherine," he said hotly.

"You don't know jack-shit!" the President spat, but Jake was not to be put off.

"I know you tried to have me killed in a drone strike to get her for yourself," Jake fired back.

The President's anger faded and a look almost like embarrassment came over his face. "I'm sorry about that, Jake. That was a mistake. I got upset and said a few harsh things about you in the company of the wrong people. I guess they kind of took me a little too seriously."

Jake stared at him and then said sarcastically, "Oh, sure, I understand - just like Henry II and Thomas à Becket." When he saw Pressman staring at him in confusion, Jake went on, "You know, when the King asked his henchmen, 'Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?'"

"Whatever," Pressman said dismissively. "Anyway, I brought you here to talk about my legacy. I've done just about everything I set out to accomplish, and I think history will treat me very well indeed. But the one thing I'm lacking is an heir, and unfortunately my wife is sterile. That's why I need Catherine."

"Wait a minute," Jake objected, "if you weren't happy with your wife, why didn't you just divorce her?"

Pressman looked at Jake as though he were the village idiot. "Divorce her? Do you know how many votes her father controls in the Senate? Without Horatio Hamilton's support I could never get my agenda through Congress. Hell, I would never have gotten the nomination in the first place!"

Jake's initial reaction was contempt, but then something the President had said suddenly sank in, and Jake was appalled. "The nomination?" he asked. "Way back during the primaries? Just how long has this thing between you and Catherine been going on?"

The President's face took on a look of satisfaction. "We fell in love during my first run for the party nomination - before she even met you. You have to admit we've done a good job of keeping it secret," he said proudly.

Jake was stunned. "But why would Catherine marry me if the two of you were in love?"

Now Pressman smirked openly. "Don't you see? You were the perfect cover. She could work close to me all this time, and with the two of you married no one would suspect anything."

"But your wife, the Secret Service, the media" Jake protested, "how could you possibly, you know, get together without people finding out?"

Pressman winked at him. "There are ways - places away from the Secret Service, rooms that aren't wired, trips overseas, even on Air Force One. It wasn't that often, but we managed."

His expression suddenly sobered. "But you kept pushing Catherine to start a family, and she finally agreed to go off birth control pills to keep you happy. What you didn't know was she started using a diaphragm whenever you wanted to have sex. They say those things are 94% effective; I guess two years ago you and Catherine fell into the 6%. Anyway, when she got pregnant we knew the baby wasn't mine because of the timing, so we arranged for her to have an abortion, the one you found out about at Hopkins."

Jake felt like his head was swimming as he tried to comprehend everything Pressman was telling him. "She's been using birth control all this time? But that can't be true - she got pregnant last winter."

Pressman could hardly contain himself. "I said she used a diaphragm with you; I didn't say she used it with me. After her abortion, we decided we couldn't take a chance on another accident so we moved up the timetable to give me my heir. That way, when I got her pregnant you'd think the baby was yours. Our plan would have worked perfectly if she hadn't had that miscarriage."

Jake stood there with his mouth open. He simply couldn't comprehend that his whole marriage had been a sham and that the woman he'd thought had loved him had deceived him so cruelly for so long.

Pressman began to walk again and Jake had to scramble to catch up. "Anyway, that's all in the past - I want to talk about the future. I don't want to hear any more talk from you about a divorce now. Everything is going to stay the same: you and Catherine are going to stay married. Soon she's going to get pregnant again and you're going to act the proud father."

He gave a sudden laugh. "I will get her pregnant again. I'm very virile - my doctors tell me I have the testicles of a man half my age!

"Anyway, Catherine's going to get pregnant and the two of you will raise the child as your own for the next two years. Then, after I finish my second term of office, I'll quietly divorce Savannah and you and Catherine will split up. She'll get sole custody of the baby. After a respectable period of time, Catherine and I will marry, and I'll adopt the baby and change its name to Pressman. I've got it all planned out."

Jake stared at the big man, wondering if he had gone insane. "What makes you think I would ever collude with you in this crazy scheme? Why shouldn't I leave here today and go straight to the Washington Post to tell them the whole story?" he demanded angrily.

The President gave Jake a shrewd look. "Over the years I've learned that if you want to get something done, it's better to use both the carrot and the stick. So tell me, Jake, would you go along with me if I could give you your wildest dream? Better than that, what if I gave you the dream of practically every attorney in the country, along with a guarantee of financial security for the rest of your life?"

Now Jake was completely lost, and he looked at Pressman in incomprehension.

The big man was on a roll now. He took Jake by the shoulder and pointed off across the South Lawn. "Look over there through the trees, down Constitution Avenue. That's the Department of Justice. How'd you like to have your portrait in oil hanging there, Jake? The current AG wants to retire anyway; how'd you like to be my Attorney General? For the next two years you'd be the most senior legal counsel in the nation. And when the new president is sworn in, any law firm in the country would love to hire you at an astronomical salary. Or if that's not the life you want, you could probably become the dean of almost any law school you fancy. The world would be your oyster. All you'd have to do is keep things exactly the way they have been for two more years and it could all be yours. What do you say?"

Before Jake could respond, a figure emerged from the White House and gave a frantic wave to the President. Pressman nodded and turned back to Jake. "I have to go now - I've kept the ambassador from France waiting over 30 minutes." He gave a little chuckle. "All this would be a lot simpler if I were president of France. They have a much different attitude toward affairs of the heart than we do in this country. Anyway, think about what I'm offering. You'd be a fool to pass this up."

With that, the big man strode off to his meeting, leaving Jake standing there amid the flowers in the Kennedy Garden. Then the FBI agent emerged and, after returning Jake's cellphone, led him back through the White House and out to where Helen was waiting impatiently in the car. After he'd gotten in, she pulled away from the curb and was soon caught up in the noon-day traffic.

"Well, what did he want, what did he say?" she asked eagerly.

Jake stared out the windshield with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I have a lot to think about," he said.

Three Months Later

The reporter stood on the steps of the Senate building, listening attentively to the tiny speaker in her ear. When she heard the producer's cue, she began to speak to the camera in front of her.

"This is CNN News reporting live from Capitol Hill, where the confirmation hearings for Jacob Phillips will begin momentarily in the Judiciary Committee. As is widely known, if confirmed, Phillips would be the youngest Attorney General in U.S. history. That might give some people pause, but with the backing of President Pressman, these hearings have taken on the semblance of a mere formality."

She pressed her fingers to her ear and then said, "I'm told that the hearings are getting under way, so now we'll go live to the Senate Caucus Room where the hearing is being held."

The hearing room was filled with the sounds of people taking their seats and exchanging muted comments. Jake, who was sitting at a table facing the panel of senators, glanced around and saw Catherine sitting behind him, her belly already starting to show. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

Just then, Senator Horatio Hamilton, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, called the session to order and announced that the nominee had requested the opportunity to make brief initial remarks. When he gestured, Jake cleared his throat and leaned toward the microphone in front of him.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Judiciary Committee, it is a great honor for me to come before you as nominee for the office of Attorney General for the United States of America. Every attorney in the nation has dreams of one day filling this critical post, and I can assure you that I am no exception.

"The purpose of this hearing, of course, is for you to learn more about me, my legal philosophy, and my influences. It is on that latter topic that I'd like to speak now. But rather than legal scholars or political scientists, the influence I'd like to cite is the poet T. S. Eliot, and especially his masterpiece Murder in the Cathedral."

Jake heard a stir in the room, but he pressed on. "As you of course know, the play concerns the slaying of Archbishop Thomas à Becket by agents of Henry the Second, because Thomas would not yield to the King's will. But it was not the crime that was the play's main focus; instead, Eliot wanted us to confront the subject of temptation. You see, Becket had options before his murder, some of which could have brought him fame, power, riches or safety. But Becket rejected them all, saying that the greatest treason is to do the right thing for the wrong reason.

"I believe that Becket - and Eliot - were right: it is a sin to do the right thing for the wrong reason. And for that reason I hereby renounce my nomination to the post of Attorney General. I do so because my nomination was not a recognition of service or capability but a cold, calculated bribe, one I cannot and do not accept."

Shouts erupted in the room, and photographers jostled one another to get shots. But Senator Hamilton gaveled the room to order and motioned Jake to continue.

"You are probably asking yourselves why I have waited so long to turn down this nomination, and why I chose such a public forum in which to do so. The answer is that this was the only way I could be certain that what I have to say cannot be suppressed, covered up or explained away.

"It is vital that I have this opportunity, because I hereby charge Calvin Arthur Pressman, the President of the United States, with high crimes and misdemeanors."

A collective gasp filled the Senate Caucus Room, followed by shouts from the news media and outbursts from many of the senators on the panel. But once again the chairman called for order, and at a signal from him the microphones of the other senators went dead. Then he calmly called for Jake to proceed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here are my charges. The President authorized the use of a military drone to attack a U.S. citizen - myself - inside the United States. Had it not been for the intercession of others, he would have been successful.

"The President acted illegally because he has been conducting a long-running intimate relationship with my wife in an attempt to father an heir. When I came too close to the truth about that relationship, he attempted to have me murdered. When that attempt failed, he attempted to buy my silence by offering me the post of Attorney General. Regardless of whatever investigations this Congress conducts or decisions it makes in these matters, I will be filing for a divorce from my wife Catherine on the grounds of infidelity, and I will be naming the President as co-respondent.

"These are extremely serious charges, and you have every reason to question their veracity. Accordingly, I am now going to have evidence that has been gathered over the last three months distributed to the Committee members as well as to the ladies and gentlemen of the news media. In the first section you will find incontrovertible DNA proof of the sexual relationship between the President and my wife. In the second section you'll find evidence we've developed concerning the drone attack in the District of Columbia, including a photograph of the tailfin of the Hellfire missile that was fired at me in the Anacostia neighborhood. As you'll see, the serial number and other markings survived, enabling us to pinpoint its source and the details of its use. Helen, would you see that the packets are distributed?"

Helen Simmons nodded and gave Jake a tight smile before starting to pass out the envelopes. Immediately there was a near riot as Senators and reporters scrambled to acquire one of the packages.

Jake looked around at his wife, who was desperately trying to escape the questions of the reporters who had surrounded her. Then he looked up at Senator Hamilton. "Mr. Chairman," he said, "that concludes my opening remarks."