Capitol Love

by Max Hudson

  Jack was back in Senator Sommers' offices, watching the news broadcast of Senator Douglass’ impromptu press conference. “What the hell is he talking about, Jack?”

  Jack shook his head. “I dunno”

  “You don’t know much, do you?”

  Jack shrugged. “They saw me coming from the very beginning. It only makes sense that they were guarded.”

  “I know the guard they put on you, that Nancy boy Tyler Johns. You couldn’t work that pansy? What fucking good are you?”

  “Senator, I’m not sure you realize how right you were about all this. Senator Douglass, he comes off real straight up, honest, but he’s as duplicitous as anyone in this town. He’s been on top of this all along, I think, from the very start, just like you said.”

  “Then what’s this new information he’s talking about?”

  “I just don’t know. What about Tabitha, where is she in all this?”

  Senator Sommers pulled his lips back, tight over his bleached teeth as he scratched his chin. “Yeah, you’re right, she’s … she’s gotta have something to do with all this.”

  Jack tried to disguise what he really knew. And he wasn’t sure how much fake surprise to employ, considering how hurt he was supposed to appear. So Jack gritted his own teeth and slammed his fist onto the arm of the chair.

  Senator Sommers sighed.

  Jack said, “If we can find her, she can come forward and confess, get us both off the hook.”

  Senator Sommers shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

  “Why? Do you know where she is, or … or what happened to her?” Senator Sommers took a moment of silent consideration before Jack said a bit louder, “Senator?”

  “No, Jack, no, of course not. Why would I be hiding her, or any information about her? She abandoned me as much as she abandoned you. She was cheating on all of us!”

  Jack let that heated confession sink in, but didn’t make any mention of it. He didn’t need to. Senator Sommers seemed to know he’d said too much, but he was quick to gloss over it.

  “Okay, okay,” Senator Sommers said, tapping Jack on the shoulder. “I don’t suppose there’s anything more you can do. I’m taking you off this case, Jack. Operation Powderpuff is shut down.”

  “Um, okay, Senator, sure, whatever you think is best.”

  Senator Sommers sighed. “It’s disappointing, Jack, I won’t lie. You let me down.”

  “I am sorry about that, Senator. No shame in being bested by a skilled opponent though.”

  “No, Jack, no, there isn’t.” Senator Sommers clapped his hand down harder on Jack’s shoulder as he turned and leaned in. “But betraying a trust, turning against your own, betraying your own camp, there’s plenty of shame in that, wouldn’t you say?”

  Jack swallowed hard, certain the senator was talking about him but unwilling to confirm it. “I suppose I would.”

  “You suppose?”

  “I don’t usually discuss hypotheticals, Senator.”

  A tension gathered between them. Jack knew what the senator truly had in mind for him, the only reason he wasn’t being fired. And it made a smile all the harder for Jack to wear as the senator said to him, “Let’s see how things unfold then, and leave the hypotheticals out of it.”

  “Sure, Senator Sommers, I’m sure all will be revealed.”

  The senator smiled, shaking Jack’s shoulder. “Yes, Jack, yes it will.”

  ****

  Tyler stood helpless while Senator Douglass packed up his briefcase and milled through a few other papers.

  “You really think Senator Sommers could be so… so devious?”

  Senator Douglass huffed out a chuckle. “You don’t?”

  It was logic so simple and pure and accurate that Tyler couldn’t disagree. But he had other concerns. “Are you sure you wanna do this, Senator? It could go wrong in so many different ways.”

  Senator Douglass smiled. “I was in the U.S. Marines, Tyler. I can take care of myself.”

  “That doesn’t make you bullet proof.”

  “That’s what the vest will be for.”

  Senator Douglass returned his attention to his papers, glancing over his speech. Tyler said, “It should be me, not you.”

  “Tyler?”

  “I’m expendable, but you’re a great man, Senator. A man like you can really make a difference in the world.”

  “Tyler, no life is expendable. And you can make every bit as much a difference in Washington as I can, you just haven’t had your chance. But you’re young, Tyler, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. This is for the best, believe me.”

  Tyler wanted to and tried to. He knew he would have to leave it at that.

  Senator Douglass took a second look at Tyler, taking in his nervousness, his jittery discomfort and awkward stiltedness. “You’re worried about more than just me, aren’t you?”

  “Of course! I mean, what if this doesn’t work? What if things go on as that bastard planned them? They’ll put Jack in prison for the rest of his life!”

  “They won’t, Tyler, I’ll do everything in my power to protect him.”

  “If you live, if he lives, if any of us get out of this alive!”

  After a tender moment, Senator Douglass smiled. “You love him, don’t you?” Tyler looked over with a sad smile wriggling on his lips. He nodded, but said nothing. There wasn’t any need. Senator Douglass said, “He’s a capable young man, you both are. No reason to think things won’t be just fine.”

  He said them in a comforting, warm voice. But Tyler didn’t believe him, and he didn’t believe that the senator believed it either. But calmness was what was required, and Tyler knew Senator Douglass would say anything to preserve that calmness, that control. His life, all of their lives, depended on it.

  “You’re right,” Tyler said with a sigh. “And we’ve got the Secret Service on our side.”

  “Right, exactly.” Senator Douglass smiled, but the presence of those deadly and devious professional killers didn’t make either one of them feel much better about what they were facing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Senator Grant Douglass walked into his Washington townhouse alone after another long day. The rally was the next day, and every minute of the day had been filled with errands, rewrites, phone calls, reporters, traffic, police, Secret Service.

  Senator Douglass was relieved to be walking into the dark, empty townhouse. He sighed as he walked up the stairs, pausing before reaching the second and main floor of the townhouse. He peered around, seeing nothing in that still darkness. The senator clicked on a light, nothing revealed by the quick illumination.

  Senator Douglass looked around, taking in the stillness, the calm, the safety of his home. He walked across the big living room to the adjoining kitchen and then down darkened hall toward his bedroom. The hall was lined with closets on one side, sliding doors hiding his coats and other stored items.

  Senator Douglass stopped in the middle of the hall, imagining he’d heard a sound from somewhere behind him. He stopped and looked around, turning his ears to hear what, or who, might be in that townhouse with him.

  But there was nothing to respond, and the senator had to shrug off his own maniacal concern and walk onward toward the master bedroom and adjoining bathroom.

  Senator Douglass sat down on the foot of his bed and peeled off his shoes, his socks, his slacks. His knees ached from nothing more than walking around, a normal day’s activities. He looked at his own arms, still thick and strong, but sagging and wrinkled at the pits; an old man’s body.

  Passed my prime,the senator had to admit to himself, guess there’s no doubt about that. Am I really up to this, or have I overstepped, advanced into territory I can’t take and, if I could, could never hold?

  Well, it’s too late now. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

  The senator went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. There he took in the full breadth of his age, milk-chocolate skin wrinkling fast, dark spots rising whe
re he’d never noticed them before. There seemed to be more gray in his dark, kinky hair, as if he’d aged more in the past few days than in the past few years. But he knew it wasn’t so. He was just getting older, like everybody else.

  Older and closer to death.

  He brushed his teeth and took one long, last look in the mirror.Good luck, old man, you’re gonnaneed it. He was about to click off the light when the senator thought he heard something in the living room, a dull thump.

  Senator Douglass stepped carefully and quietly to the nightstand near his bed. He slid the drawer open slowly, pulling out his handgun and leaving the drawer open. The senator crossed the bedroom with quiet caution, leaning forward and clutching the gun as he prowled toward the living room.

  Entering the quiet living room, Senator Douglass looked around, seeing nothing to be worried about. There was a big couch though, plenty of room to hide behind. Senator Douglass crossed toward the couch, gun at the ready. But a quick look revealed nobody behind the couch, nobody anywhere in the room.

  Senator Douglass sighed, relieved and moved with a more casual quickness across the living room and back down the hall. In his bedroom, the senator put the handgun back into the drawer and slid it shut, shaking his head and peeling back the bed covers.

  Senator Douglass closed his eyes and folded his hands in front of him, silently reciting a prayer he’d said every night since childhood.

  Our Father, which art in heaven,

  Hallowed be thy Name.

  Thy Kingdom come.

  Thy will be done in earth,

  As it is in heaven.

  Give us this day our daily bread.

  And forgive us our trespasses,

  As we forgive them that trespass against us.

  And lead us not into temptation,

  But deliver us from evil.

  For thine is the kingdom,

  The power, and the glory,

  For ever and ever.

  Amen.

  He lay back, pulling the cool sheets up and over him, releasing the stress of the day and preparing for the stress of the day to come.

  If he lived long enough to see it.

  The weight hit Grant Douglass fast and hard, one man slamming a pillow over his face and leaning over his upper chest and flailing arms. The other man fell down over his legs to keep them pinned under the lethal sheets, kicking and bucking no defense against their stealthy assassination.

  Douglass screamed, muffled, his world dark. He tried to throw them, but he had no purchase, his hands reaching out to pluck out the eyes of his assailant, to tear his throat out if necessary.

  But he was pinned, and his breath was failing fast. His heart ached as it struggled to pound in his aging chest, lungs straining and airless. Douglass’ mind was swimming, crackling with colored orbs as oxygen ran out and his veins threatened to burst.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jack lurched out of the bedroom closet and fell upon one of the two men pinning Senator Douglass, smothering the life out of him. Jack locked his fists together and brought it down on the man holding the pillow over the senator’s face. He hit him hard, and then harder the second time before knowing he’d nearly cracked the man’s spine.

  Jack grabbed the man’s hair, brown and well-trimmed, and wrenched him back and off the senator. By then Tyler and the special agents were pouring into the room from out of hiding, uniformed officers armed behind them. They all fell upon the other man, who’d been pinning Senator Douglass’ legs. The senator twisted and lurched away, leaning into some open air to catch his breath, gasping and coughing.

  Tyler turned on the bedroom light as several policemen cuffed one of the men and the special agents wrestled the second man out of Jack’s grip, cuffing his hands behind his back. The man glared at them, a long scar across his left cheek.

  Jack said, “Wait a minute, I know these guys, I’ve seen them around the Capitol.”

  Senator Douglass looked over, still coughing and struggling to breathe.

  But it was Special Agent Hathaway who said, “Sure you have, they’re Doster and Dudley, used to be on Senator Cafferty’s team.”

  Jack and Tyler glanced at one another, the truth becoming clear to them both.

  ****

  It was a long night after apprehending Senator Douglass’ assailants. Once they were carted downtown, booked and processed, the grilling was intense until they finally cracked.

  After that, it was only a few hours before the rally, so Jack, Tyler and Senator Douglass washed up, dressed and got ready for the big rally. The senator had been seen to by a doctor, and he had to wear a thick, white neck brace which actually did a lot to hide the Kevlar vest. Even though the gunmen had been captured, Senator Douglass’ safety was still at risk as long as he was alive and in public.

  A crowd of about twenty thousand people gathered in front of the Capitol Building, most with signs that read slogans like,It’sa matter of chance, not a matter of choice!and Gay people are still people!

  But they weren’t the only ones, and an angry constituency of unlike-minded citizens were shouting and waving their fists, throwing out expletives likefaggotandtrannyand shouting things like, “Go back to Canada!”

  News crews were everywhere, primarily gathered around the podium set up on the steps in front of the building. This was where public addresses at events like this were always held, so the media knew right where to go. And any murder conspirators would know just where to direct their gunmen.

  Jack was on the side of the steps, glancing around the summer glare to try catch a flash of light, the sight of any black shiny metal in the periphery.

  Senator Sommers was standing next to Jack, glaring at the crowd. He kept referring to the index cards in his hands, reviewing his speech, preparing to face the most unfriendly crowd of his career. He hoped to stem the tide of their indignation, but he also knew it could very well just roll over him and crush him to death, figuratively and perhaps even literally.

  Tyler was on the side of the steps with Senator Douglass and several other members of his team. From opposite sides of the steps, Jack and Tyler’s eyes locked. They gave each other a mutual nod of reassurance, Jack throwing in a friendly wink.

  A folk singer was at the podium, singing with all her passion and outrage, voice soaring over the crowd. Some cheered, others jeered, and Jack looked around with increasing nervousness. He knew there were likely to be guns pointed at him at that very moment, and that soon enough he’d be even more vulnerable.

  But it was too late to change course or turn back.

  The singer ended her tune and Tyler stepped out to the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Fairness in Protection Act is nothing more than deliberate attempt to rob members of the LGBTQ community of their equal rights!” The crowd cheered. “The right to rent a place to live, to get a job, to be protected by the law, on the streets and on the Hill!” More cheering rose up from one side of the crowd, others booing and hissing.

  Tyler glanced at Senator Douglass, then looked back over the crowd. “And though we’re here to fight that Act, to demonstrate our solidarity, our unity, and our determination to preserve our own liberty, that is no longer the only reason we are here.” The crowd murmured in anticipation, the rumor of some grand announcement having been buzzing through the crowd all day.

  Tyler went on, “Because after all, why are any of us here, on Capitol Hill, here in Washington, or here in this beautiful country of the United States of America? We’re here to not only to preserve our own freedoms, and those of our family and friends, even our strangers, our adversaries, our enemies. But we come here for justice, and justice will be served here today!”

  The crowd hummed with more speculation, a lot of people ignoring Tyler when he said, “And so, I introduce the leading voice of tolerance and progressiveness in the Senate or the House of Representatives, from the great state of Colorado, Senator Grant Douglass!”

  The crowd cheered and the cameras zoomed in as Senator Do
uglass waked out to the podium, stiff in his neck brace and bulletproof vest, invisible under his suit.

  The applause died down and Senator Douglass leaned awkwardly forward, toward the mic. “I came here with the intention to read a long speech. Lucky for you all, I seem to have hurt myself, and I won't be able to enthrall you as I’d hoped.” Some laughed, some booed in frustration and dissatisfaction. His was the speech they were there to hear. Senator Douglass went on, “You’ll be hearing from Senator Sommers and others, I know you’ll be open-minded and receptive.”

  Senator Douglass glanced at Jack on the other side of the steps and said into the mic, “But first, I’m proud to introduce Jonathan “Jack” Ballen, in the employ of my esteemed colleague from the great state of Arizona, Senator Carlton Sommers.”

  Senator Sommers glared at Jack, but by the time he rasped out, “Jack, what the hell is going on?” Jack was already halfway to the podium. Jack couldn’t escape the thought that some hidden sniper’s sights were trained on him at that very moment, following his every step, lined up to deliver white-hot death from two-hundred yards, anonymous and efficient.

  The crowd looked at Jack, confused and impatient, as he reached the microphone. “Thank you, Senator Douglass.” He looked out over the big crowd and took a deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Americans. I am standing here today with important news, some of which may shock you, some of which may not touch you at all.”

  Jack glanced at Tyler, the two sharing a final nod before Jack turned back to the crowd. “The first thing I am here to admit, as a matter of public record, that I have been having an affair with Mr. Tyler Johns here, of Senator Douglass’ staff. It was private, entirely consensual and absolutely fantastic.” The crowd laughed and cheered. “I hope we can go on seeing each other, I’d like that.” He smiled at Tyler and Tyler smiled back, this time the wink was his.

  Jack went on into the mic, “The second thing I’m here to say is that I hereby resign from Senator Carlton Sommers' staff, effective immediately. Not that I imagine I’d be kept on after this …” More chuckles and fist pumping frothed up from the crowd. “But you folks don’t know me, and you’re probably wondering why you should be hearing this now. Is it really such a big deal that Senator Sommers, so dead-set against non-heterosexual love, would have a man like me on his staff? I had an affair with his legislative assistant too, Tabitha St. Cloud. None of these things are really under the senator’s control, so the first thing I ask of you is not to hold my lifestyle against him. That wouldn’t be fair and it wouldn’t be just.”