Dissident (8 page)

“Chrissy does a mean Queen Eleanor. Emphasis on mean.”

Caroline took the flowers out of Tom’s hand. “No chocolates or teddy bears for your wife?” she asked.

“She only gets a free meal. And probably not much beyond that.”

Christine pulled her coat out of the hall closet. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

Caroline gave Tom a hug. “Thanks, Thomas,” she said pointedly.

Tom grimaced. “Cut that Thomas shit out, Punky. Only Chrissy pulls that.”

“Watch your language,” Christine scolded, and turned to Caroline. “Will you and the girls be okay?”

“We’re fine. I’m going to grill up some hamburgers and we’ll make cookies later. I assume I may not see you until tomorrow?”

Christine rolled her eyes as Tom helped her put on her coat. “It’s probably safe for you to assume I’ll be back before you’ve even gone to bed, what with my husband’s generous offer of dinner and nothing else. Looks like you’re cleaning up in the flower department today.”

“Don’t ask.” Caroline rolled her eyes as Tom gave her a puzzled look. “I’m sure Chrissy will complain to you all night.”

“Great,” Tom said. “I can’t wait. See you later, kid.”

“You two lovebirds have fun,” Caroline told them, laughing as Christine stuck her tongue out at her on the way out the door.

She locked the door behind them and went into the kitchen to make dinner. Christine was a little frigid at times but Caroline knew much of it was manufactured. As was Tom’s ribbing. If he had booked a hotel room somewhere, Christine definitely wouldn’t be coming back that night. Whether or not Tom would get lucky was an open question. It probably depended on how much wine he could trick Chrissy into drinking.

But some of what Christine had told her still stung. She was only being protective, but Caroline knew that Chrissy secretly believed that she was much too nice sometimes. Maybe most of the time. Caroline conceded the possibility that there was more to the flowers, but that was preposterous. And Christine was probably right. God only knew how many women Jack had on the sly. She hadn’t really heard anything but maybe she needed to pay more attention.

Not that it mattered; she still wasn’t interested in dating anyone. Not yet. But Caroline grasped one thing for sure. She definitely wasn’t going to talk about Jack McIntyre with Christine Sullivan anymore.

Livingston and Savage were sitting at the large conference table in the meeting room near their offices. Bill glanced at his watch. Lieutenant Mitchell was late for their scheduled appointment.

“Where is that kid?” he asked.

“Not a clue. Maybe everything’s slipping, including military punctuality.”

Bill hadn’t seen the man since that first encounter.  Mitchell had never been present for any conference calls, face to face meetings…it was as if he just vanished into the wind. He was sick of this shit and knew Maureen was, too. Although Representative Gerard wasn’t the first political prisoner to be housed within their facility, she was the highest profile. And definitely the one with the best public reputation.

Martial law. Political prisoners. The majority of Americans with the wool still pulled over their eyes. Bill never thought he’d live to see the way things had evolved over the past year. None of what the Army was doing made any sense. The constant pestering, the insistence upon discharging patients who weren’t fully recovered, the requests to violate every single ethical standard the hospital had in order to give them what they wanted…it was totally outside his realm of understanding.

They heard loud footsteps coming down the hall and straightened up. A burly, angry looking man walked into the room.

“Drs. Livingston and Savage?” he asked.

Bill nodded. “That’s us.” He scanned the insignia and identifiers on the man’s service uniform. “What can we do for you, Colonel…Slade?”

“I’m here to speak to you about the prisoner you refuse to release,” Slade said brusquely.

“Where is Lieutenant Mitchell?” Maureen asked.

“That is none of your concern,” Slade snapped.

“He was our first contact,” Bill pointed out. “We had hoped to have a satisfactory working relationship. I’d like to know what happened.”

“He has been reassigned,” Slade said. “That is all you need to know. This is my case now.”

Bill glared at the man. “My answers haven’t changed, if you’ve been privy to any of the conversations I’ve had with your fellow soldiers at INSCOM.”

“They need to change. It’s been three days. We have an investigation to conduct.”

“And you will do it when Ms. Gerard has had some time to recover,” Maureen said.

“No,” Slade responded. “She needs to be discharged immediately.”

“Under whose authority?” Bill asked.

Slade sneered at him. “Mine.”

“Where’s your warrant?” Bill asked.

“I do not require a warrant. She is a terror suspect.”

Maureen laughed sarcastically, apparently unmindful of the man’s reaction. “That’s the most outlandish thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Ms. Gerard is a United States citizen,” Bill told Slade. “Last time I checked, the Constitution still applies to her and every other American.”

“Not according to the latest Executive Order signed by the President.”

Bill stared at the colonel. “Ah, yes. Interesting how there’s really no judiciary or Congress to keep him under control anymore, isn’t it?”

Slade eyed him. “Your patient is wanted for questioning for violations of the United States Criminal Code pertaining to treasonous activities. She is to be discharged immediately into the custody of the National Security Agency.”

“No.” Bill took a step toward the larger man. “She is still recovering from her injuries. The ones inflicted by your subordinates, in case you’ve forgotten. I cannot in good conscience release her from this facility.”

“Your conscience doesn’t matter. Our national security does.”

Bill frowned. “I served this country in Vietnam. I saw atrocities that would make you retch, treatment of soldiers and civilians that would curl your toes. I don’t give a shit about Santos’ Executive Orders. I know proper military and criminal justice protocol, Colonel. I also know my own obligations as a medical practitioner. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to waltz in here without a warrant, without any proof whatsoever, and send a good American toward an inevitable death sentence. It isn’t going to happen. Not on my watch.”

Slade leered at him. “So it finally comes out. Are you harboring seditious thoughts yourself, Dr. Livingston?”

Maureen broke in. “Are we really at the point where merely expressing a desire to abide by the law is a treasonous offense?”

Bill brought his hand up. “Don’t get involved in this, Dr. Savage.”

Slade chuckled. “Wouldn’t want the little lady getting herself in trouble too, now would we?”

She stepped forward and opened her mouth, but Bill pushed her behind him.

“I mean it, Maureen. Don’t get involved in this.” He turned back to the colonel. “Ms. Gerard is in no condition to be released. I will not let her leave the confines of this hospital without a warrant signed by a judge. Is that understood?”

Slade narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want this fight, old man.”

“My obligations to my patients far outweigh any obligation I have to the United States Military,” Bill said. “This is my hospital, my rules, my profession’s ethical standards. And you know damn well that you’re breaking any number of laws by behaving in this manner. Unless those laws no longer apply to you. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

The colonel straightened his uniform jacket. “Ms. Gerard will be transferred to our holding facility within the next week. Is that clear?”

Bill folded his arms. “Not without papers. Am I clear?”

Slade tucked his dress hat under his arm and started marching toward the door. He spun around to face the doctors. “Yours is not the last word on this matter.”

“I’ve worked for the American people for almost fifty years,” Bill said. “As a grunt, as a Marine officer, and as a VA doctor. They would be appalled if they knew what was really going on with this Administration. I am ashamed of all of you who have tossed this country’s values and principles into the trash.” He could feel Maureen shudder behind him.

“Your lack of cooperation will be recorded in my files,” Slade’s face was bright red. He turned and left the room.  Bill slammed the door behind him.

Maureen turned to him, shaken. “Bill, what the hell? Do you want to get yourself arrested too?”

He rubbed his chin. “We can’t let this happen, Maureen. We just can’t. It stops now.”

“What are we supposed to do about it?”

“We’ll figure something out. You and I both know that young man was not reassigned.”

Maureen shuddered again. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Do me a favor,” Bill said. “Make sure at least one of your friends or family members knows where you are at all times. Got it?”

Maureen nodded.

“They are violating the Constitution,” he said. “They are violating any number of international treaties and conventions. They are violating the laws of human decency. And they are not going to get away with it.” He strode toward the door. “I’ll go check on Ms. Gerard. Go home and get some rest, Maureen. You look like shit.”

Bill stood there, waiting for her to leave. Her hands were shaking.

“Go home,” he repeated.

Her eyes widened. Maybe he’d sounded harsher than he intended. She pulled her car keys out of her pocket and ran out the door.

*              *              *              *              *

Bill sat down next to the sedated woman and took her hand. He was so tired. So incredibly tired. He’d been playing this game for decades and perhaps it had finally beaten him.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt compelled to get involved. He’d kept his mouth shut for so long, even though he figured out what was happening fairly quickly. He glanced over at Ms. Gerard. She was a smart woman. She’d figured it out too, maybe before anyone else. And where had it gotten her?

In the past he would have thought it odd that no one had mentioned the raids on television. Now he knew better. And many people knew what had happened. They couldn’t hide the fact that the legislative branch was a shambles and a number of prominent current and former public officials had suddenly disappeared. Representative Gerard was the only one who had made an appearance at the VA hospital. So far.

Bill didn’t know whether that was good or bad, but he assumed the worst.  Either it meant she had survived somehow when others had failed, or it meant that she was the one they wanted the most. 

Many others had been killed, others who had said and done less than she.  Of course, those were just rumors, but Bill knew in his heart that they were borne from the truth. The lies spun by the Administration of disloyal Americans abandoning their country had done little to dissuade him from his belief that Santos and his men had been progressively picking off those who posed the greatest danger to them.

He squeezed the woman’s hand and stood up.  It was a long drive back to Bethesda. Traffic was lighter than it had been in years, but it was still not an easy jaunt. He’d pick up some flowers for his wife on the way home. She’d like that.

He gave Ms. Gerard one final glance before leaving the room. Her pulse was steady, her vitals strong. Her facial wounds were healing bit by bit, but her nose was still disfigured and her cheekbones swollen. He hoped she wasn’t able to feel any pain.

Bill wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he’d figure it out. They weren’t going to get her. He’d see to that.

Caroline

March

It was almost spring, but the mild winter wasn’t quite ready to completely disappear. Caroline stood at the window, watching the light snow falling outside. Her office faced the Capitol Building. She’d struck gold during the lottery for new offices, and had chosen this suite solely for the view.

She had a lot of random sports memorabilia in her office. She’d always been able to bribe Jen and Kathleen to help her move it, mostly with her legendary homemade cookies, other baked goods, and a healthy amount of booze. She was very picky about who she trusted with her keepsakes. The three of them would spend an afternoon wrapping and unwrapping autographed baseballs and other tchotchkes, rearranging bobbleheads, and making sure her Marquette and Notre Dame diplomas were hung properly. She had a particular devotion to Joe Girardi and Ryne Sandberg and it was reflected in the objects she displayed. Including her favorite item stashed in the corner below two game used Cubs jerseys she had hanging on the wall.

Jen and Kathleen hated having to move the old Wrigley Field turnstile Caroline insisted on putting in her office when the new term started. Before that, it had been in the basement of her home in Rockville with the rest of her collection. She picked it up from a prestigious online auction house right after she was elected to her first term. Nicky freaked when he found out how much she spent on it, but it was a little congratulatory present to herself that she knew he’d never buy for her.

The turnstile wasn't cheap and cost a ton to ship from Chicago to Maryland. Caroline bribed Jen and Katie with a couple of six packs and homemade pies, promising them that it would be no big deal to relocate the bulky item to Capitol Hill. The two of them were still pissed Caroline hadn’t forced some male interns to help her move it instead. Her basement had more than a few stairs.

Caroline liked being reminded why she was serving in Congress in the first place, and seeing the snow swirling around the Capitol dome certainly did that. She was an absolute sucker for random moments of patriotic majesty. And random moments of baseball fandom, as her eyes fell on the turnstile, the jerseys, and her collection of vintage Chicago baseball nodders. Spring Training was not going well for the Cubbies so far. She was preparing herself for another season of hassling from the members of Congress from Missouri, almost all of whom were rabid Cardinals fans. She felt bad for the one Royals fan in their delegation. Poor guy never got any love.

But Caroline brought a lot of it on herself. She started a fantasy baseball league for House members the first season after she was sworn in. The mostly male Representatives in the league hadn’t taken too well to losing to a woman. She maintained it was a coincidence that she kept winning year after year. Caroline was really good at wonky baseball stats and analysis and made lucky guesses when she drafted her sleepers each spring. But she might have still indulged in a few too many trash talking moments at the end of each year, reminding all of them that they’d been beaten by a girl. Again.

She heard a knock on her open door and turned around.

“Hi, Jack.”

He was wearing his long winter coat, a cashmere scarf, and leather gloves. He looked ready to go outside. Her staff knew that it was okay for him to come in without checking with her first. After three months of friendship, Jack was now on a very short list of people who enjoyed that privilege.

Despite her friendly demeanor, Caroline did her best to keep her professional behavior in line with those of other House members. She’d meet with any constituent, any House or Senate member, any nonprofit entity, even lobbyists, no matter what they wanted to discuss. But Caroline was always careful not to be too casual with people she didn’t know. It had been one of the most challenging adjustments she’d had to make when she arrived on Capitol Hill.  She was used to being friendly and charming with everyone and being open from the start, even when she was a prosecutor dealing with attorneys and defendants. That didn’t always work in Congress.

Jack stood next to her by the window. “How are we doing today? Enjoying the weather, I see.”

It was still cold outside. Caroline eagerly anticipated the change in season but she also liked those last few days of March, before the green returned and the buds started to bloom. Sometimes she missed the harsh winters and lake effect snow of Chicago. But not much.

“One final snow.” She unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“It is. You have a hell of a view.”

Every day she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky, and not just with regard to her office location. She felt the same way when she put on the lapel pin that identified her as a member of Congress. “I sure do.”

“So,” he said. “I know it’s a bit chilly, but would you like to go grab some lunch?”

She had a couple of hours before she had to do anything important, and she knew he had a driver so she wouldn’t have to walk in the slush.

“Are you buying?” she asked.

“You’re a proud feminist. Aren’t we supposed to go Dutch?”

“You’re the one with all the cash. Friends with money are supposed to be kind and generous to those who have less.”

He laughed. “It’s my treat, then.”

Caroline glanced at the schedule on her phone, even though she had it memorized. “I need to be back for a Judiciary hearing at three.”

“Not a problem.” Jack had already retrieved her coat, which was draped across the couch in her office. Formality wasn’t exactly her strong suit. He held it out for her and helped her put it on.

She grabbed her gold and blue striped Marquette scarf off her leather desk chair and tucked it under the collar of the tea length wool coat. Caroline always enjoyed a touch of whimsy with her outfits. Maybe that was why she liked winter so much; she got to wear that scarf every day.

Jack laughed again as she buttoned her coat and put her gloves on. “Your loyalty to your alma mater knows no bounds.”

“Ring out Ahoya!” Caroline declared proudly, and tweaked the cashmere around Jack’s neck. “You might do well with a bit of blue and white from Villanova, yourself.”

He fingered the dress scarf. “Not a chance. I like to keep it classy.”

“Are you implying that my winter ensemble lacks grace?”

He put his hand on her back and guided her out the door. “No, I think it’s cute. The Dubliner okay with you?”

Jack had known her long enough to know she preferred casual over prim and proper, especially when it came to lunch.

“Perfect,” she said.

*              *              *              *              *

The pub was busy, but they seemed to have avoided much of the crowd. Given the weather, it was mostly folks who worked on Capitol Hill as opposed to tourists or other Washingtonians. Jack talked her into splitting an appetizer. He seemed to appreciate that she ate real food.

“A lot of women I know, particularly the women I’ve dated, order salads when they go out,” he said, when the artichoke and spinach dip arrived. “Most of their meals match their personalities.”

Caroline was still hesitant to ask him about his past. She hadn’t yet heard any rumors about him continuing his womanizing ways once he arrived in Washington, but she only made a halfhearted attempt at seeking them out after the conversation she had with Christine.  It wasn’t as if there weren’t opportunities around every corner. He was handsome, he had money, and he was a Congressman. A pretty seductive package.

“I make no secret of the fact that I really like food,” Caroline said. “Good food. And my New Year’s Resolution to get to the House gym on a more regular basis is failing miserably.”

“You look great to me,” Jack said.

She blushed and put some dip on her plate. “Thanks.”

Jack spooned a huge amount of the dip on his own plate. Caroline was happy he was taking all the giant chunks of artichoke. She was more into the spinach and cheese.

“Do you know that you blush any time anyone says anything remotely nice about you?” he asked. “You sometimes do it when you’re on Sunday morning talk shows too.”

“I do?” One more thing for her to worry about when she made public appearances.

“I think it’s sweet, but I don’t understand it.”

Caroline decided to subtly change the subject. “How’s Washington treating you so far?”

“You ask me that every time we go to lunch.”

“I never know if the answer has changed or not. The first few months are a bit of a whirlwind.”

“I’m holding my own. There are a lot of secret rules to learn. And I’ve met some good people along the way.”

“That helps.”

“Of course, the nicest one - and don’t blush - is definitely you.”

Caroline, naturally, blushed on cue. “That’s not saying a whole lot. This town is full of assholes.”

Jack scowled at her. “Caroline, seriously. I know you delight in being self-deprecating but you really need to give yourself more credit sometimes. That is not what I meant at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure you must suspect that there are a great many people who both like and respect you around this place. Even those who may not be speaking to you right now.”

The Minority Leader. Who was still pissed about her vote for Speaker Allen. And not even bothering to hide it.

“Guess I shouldn’t have kept my promise to Bob, huh?”

“I’m glad you did. I bet Langlade respects you more for it, even if he’s angry with you. That bought you a lot of praise from newly elected Republicans.”

“And I’d been seeking their approval. Thank God.”

Jack laughed. “I’m reminding you not to forget that maybe there’s a reason you are one of the most well liked people on the Hill, and it’s not because there are a lot of jerks here, too.”

Caroline decided she’d had enough of this topic. Jack always seemed to bring their conversations back to her.

“Are you making any progress on the book I let you borrow?” she asked.

“The Shulamith Firestone one?
The Dialectic of Sex
? The one you foisted upon me?”

“Yes.”

“Who names their daughter Shulamith?”

Caroline decided to pull out some useless knowledge. “It’s the feminine form of the name Solomon. Her parents were Orthodox Jews.”

“I’m impressed. You’re like a jaunty Wikipedia page, except with far more obscure material.”

“Hush. Have you read any of it?”

She and Jack regularly engaged in some particularly intense discussions about feminist theory and political philosophy. Caroline had a range of books on both topics and took to forcing them on him whenever she had the chance.

“I’ve read some of it,” he said. “It’s hard to get through. Some of what she says is pretty off the wall.”

“I know. I don’t agree with hardly any of her theories.”

“You loaned me a book you don’t like?”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it, but I don’t necessarily agree with it. It challenges me and that’s why I flip through it every once in a while. I have a ton of books by Friedrich Nietzsche and I don’t agree with much of what he says at all.”

“You don’t strike me as much of a nihilist.”

She returned his smile. “I guess not.
The Prince
,
The Leviathan
, anything by Marx and Engels, and just about everything by Nietzsche…they all have their issues. That doesn’t mean they’re useless.”

“So if I loaned you
The Fountainhead
would you read it?”

“Hell no.”

“
Atlas Shrugged
?”

Caroline made a face. “No way.”

“I thought you had an open mind.”

“I hope I do, but objectivism breaks my heart. It’s so contrary to anything loosely related to a spiritual life or a higher sense of purpose. I was put on this earth to help others, not look out for myself.”

“That’s a somewhat simplified version of Rand’s theories but I’ll admit I have a hard time reading her works too. In fact, I can’t stand most of them.” Jack smiled again. “I wanted to see how you’d react if I suggested the two books that drive so much of the ultraconservative wing of the Republican Party.”

“I do like
Anthem
. Have you read it?”

“Indeed I have. I’m also a big fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I got into a lot of Catholic and Christian fiction authors when I was at Villanova. Philosophers too.”

“The Order of St. Augustine schooled you well, then,” she said.

“They sure did, on a great many subjects. As you know from my history, I’m a good Catholic boy through and through.”

Caroline sniggered and helped herself to more dip. “I bet your salad girls would have a different take on that statement.”

Jack looked a little uncomfortable after she said that, and she flushed guiltily. “I’m sorry, Jack. Your personal life is none of my business.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not like I can make my past go away. It was a pretty easy way of attacking me during the campaign.”