by J. L. Brown
SMASHWORDS EDITION
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Rule of Law © 2017 by Julie L. Brown
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America.
For information address JAB Press, P.O. Box 9462, Seattle, WA 98109.
Cover Design by Damonza
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017901223
ISBN 978-0-9969772-3-4 (paperback)
ISBN 978-0-9969772-4-1 (ebook)
First Edition: March 2017
For Audi.
And for victims of bullying everywhere.
You are not alone.
There is a feeling among the masses generally that something is radically wrong. They are despairing of political action. They say the only thing you do in Washington is to take money from the pockets of the poor and put it into the pockets of the rich. They say that this Government is a conspiracy against the common people to enrich the already rich. I hear such remarks every day.
— Oscar Ameringer, 1932
If people throw stones at you, build something.
— Unknown
Table of Contents
Prologue
Washington, DC - One Month Ago
CHAPTER ONE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER TWO
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER THREE
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER FOUR
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIVE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER SIX
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER EIGHT
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER TEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWELVE
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER TWENTY
Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Quantico, Virginia
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER THIRTY
Columbus, Ohio
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Washington, DC
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FIFTY
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Washington, DC
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Bellevue, Washington
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Air Force One
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
Air Force One
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
Casper, Wyoming
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
Washington, DC
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
Washington, DC
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER NINETY
Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER NINETY-NINE
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
Seattle, Washington
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIVE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIX
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHT
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ELEVEN
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWELVE
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN
Quantico, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO
Alexandria, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR
Fairfax, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE
Arlington, Virginia
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX
The White House, Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN
Washington, DC
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT
Washington, DC
Epilogue
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - One Month Later
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to
Where it all began . . .
Prologue
Washington, DC - One Month Ago
She should have thrown the letter away.
Or shredded it.
She knelt before the altar of the small, quaint Presbyterian church near the White House. The nave was empty. Easter services had just ended. Her husband, Grayson, and the children waited outside. Lead Secret Service agent, Josh McPherson, stood alone by the entryway at the front of the church.
Although her hands were clasped together and relaxed, her head bowed in supplication, President Whitney Fairchild was not praying.
Instead, she was reading.
The expensive parchment paper, creased horizontally into two sections, lay on the raised carpeted step, worn from her reading it every day since her inauguration two months ago when she had first opened the envelope.
She needn’t have bothered.
She had memorized every word.
Dear Senator,
I’m sure you already own this classic, but this volume is in pristine condition and, I am told, one of a kind. I’ve enjoyed our reading challenge, and since I’m so far ahead, I wanted to give you a chance to catch up.
Seriously, I want to thank you for the opportunity to work for you and alongside you all these years. Every day has been a joy.
I am proud of what we’ve accomplished and look forward to what we’ll accomplish over the next eight years (yes, I said eight!). I know you will win.
I want to have one of our talks after you read this. I believe we’ll have much to say to each other.
You have no idea how much I love you.
Your son,
Landon
Despite his sins, she still missed Landon Phillips.
“Mom?”
Whitney started at the sound of her son’s voice.
Snatching the letter with reflexes she didn’t realize she possessed, she stuffed it back into her purse.
Her son, Chandler, stood beside her, wearing a jacket, shirt, and slacks.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Working.”
“Working and praying at the same time?”
She rose. “In this job, I do that often.”
“Dad sent me in to get you. He’s hungry.”
She brushed the bangs off his forehead. His face was like looking at a mirror. “Dad, huh?” She looped her arm through his. “Did I tell you how handsome you look today, my favorite son?”
He grinned. “I’m your only son, Mom.”
Whitney’s smile faltered. “That is true.”
They walked down the aisle past the stained-glass windows to the front of the church. As he chatted about the action movie they had watched last night in the theater room in the White House, her thoughts wandered.
She chastised herself for being careless. She was not ready to share the truth about Landon with anyone yet. Particularly her husband and her children.
That was close. I need to be more careful.
Part I
CHAPTER ONE
Fairfax, Virginia
You heard the breathing first.
Heavy breathing from one. Quick breaths through the nose from the one accustomed to fighting.
Next, you heard the whack, whack, whack as gloves met flesh.
Then, the smell: the overwhelming musk of teenage sweat.
There were no lights.
The “spectators” used the flashlights on their iPhones to illuminate the area. Some shone real ones.
The two boys in the cage wore MMA gloves, but no headgear or pads. No shirts. No shoes. But—oddly—they both wore baseball pants. One was in pro-style knickers.
Those were the rules.
Blood speckled the fighter’s knickers like an impressionist painting.
Not his blood.
Watching the fight, a boy clung to the netting outside the cage. He held it tight to hold himself up. His knuckles stuck out like small stones in the dark.
Every punch made him sick.
He didn’t want to be here. If it were up to him, he would rather be anywhere else. Even home, doing homework. Or at the dentist, having a cavity filled.
But he had no choice. Attendance was required.
The fight would be over soon. The boy in the regular baseball pants was pinned against one of the poles. Each time he slipped off the pole from the sweat on his back and fell against the netting, the guy in the knickers would grab him, right him in front of the pole again, and pummel him some more. In the face. In the stomach. In the ribs.
In between punches and exhalations, the guy in the knickers shouted, “That’s poppin’! That’s poppin’!”
The spectators—also shirtless and in baseball pants—wore baseball caps. They chanted: “Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’!”
The gladiatorial dogfight atmosphere intensified as the fight went on. The punches landed harder. The cheering loude
r. The sweat shinier.
When the fighter against the pole finally faltered, the boy in the knickers threw him down and then lifted him by both ears and slammed his head to the turf.
No one made a move to help the loser.
Knickers started kicking him with the instep of his foot. “That’s hot!”
The spectators chanted: “Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!”
The presumptive victor mounted the prone boy, pummeling his head with vicious punches: his left ear, then right.
“Loser!” he screamed.
A regulation fight would have been declared over.
“Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser!”
“Tap out, man!” yelled one of the spectators.
“Yeah!” said another.
“Do it!” said an opposing voice.
“Fuck him up!”
“Queer bait!”
“Kill him!”
“Let him die!”
The victor’s arm rose high in the air to deliver the coup de grâce, the ensuing punch anticlimactic. Blood flew from the nose and mouth of the boy on the ground, drops spraying those who were watching.
The vanquished fighter stopped moving, his long legs still. His arms extended perpendicular to his body. A crucifix without the cross. Even in the artificial light, the boy outside the cage saw the blood running freely from the prone boy’s nose and mouth. Both of his eyes, blackening.
He looked dead.
The boy outside still clung to the netting. His arms shook.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer.
A grumbling roiled in the pit of his stomach. The bile rose.
Leaning forward, his head between his arms, he threw up on the ground. Teammates near him jumped out of the way.
“Gross!”
“That shit better not be on my pants, man!”
“Wimp!”
“Idiot!”
“Faggot!”
The name calling hurt the boy, although he should be used to it. He battled the tears trying to escape his eyes.
He lost the fight.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Made sure his baseball cap was on tight.
And then he ran.
*
With his arms around their shoulders, to an observer, he appeared drunk. Good friends were helping him get home safely. The illusion ended when they dumped him on the front lawn of his parents’ home, his head barely missing the sidewalk.
“That’ll teach you,” one boy said, kicking him.
“Warriors don’t run,” said the other.
The two ran back to the car, their sneakers loud in the quiet of the neighborhood.
Every bone and muscle in his body ached. He scarcely registered the squeal of the tires as their car sped away.
