Judge Olivia Jenkins was in her chambers bright and early. She flipped open her calendar to see what was pending. She had a full docket. But one case in particular was on her mind. And it would be the first case she would call.
Outside in the courtroom Harry Smythe and the two assistant U.S. attorneys from the government were waiting patiently for the clerk to call them back into the judge’s chambers.
Then the clerk poked her head out into the courtroom and waived them in.
When all were seated and the clerk had closed the door, Jenkins began. “Harry, I notice that your client, Mr. Jordan, is not with you today.”
“He’s not, Your Honor.”
“Are you prepared to give this court the whereabouts of Mr. Jordan so he can be served with my bench warrant today?”
“I’m not, Judge.”
“What’s the reason for that?”
“Not anything I can discuss without breaching attorney-client confidentiality.”
“I recognize that,” Judge Jenkins said. “But it could be argued that the oath you took when you were first sworn in to be a lawyer—the oath to uphold our system of justice—is equally important. Maybe more so.”
“There’s nothing more I can say, Judge,” Smythe said in his studied calm. “Except that I’ve been presented with a very…challenging dilemma.”
“You know I could cause you a world of trouble,” the Judge said.
“As a federal judge, your power is broad and impressive,” Smythe said. “I would only ask that you allow us until the end of today before you issue your bench warrant for the arrest of Mr. Jordan.”
“Judge,” one of the assistant attorneys interjected, “that would be more than forty-eight hours. And your order from the bench the other day said forty-eight hours.”
“End of business today,” Harry Smythe said. “That’s all I’m asking.” In his face was the plea for mercy rather than justice.
Judge Jenkins recognized the look. She picked up the case file and balanced it in one hand. Then she ruled. “Okay. End of business today. But that’s it. No more extensions. No more excuses. Unless there’s been a radical change of circumstances, at that time I will be issuing an order for the immediate apprehension of Joshua Jordan. From that point on he will be treated as a fugitive from justice by the federal government.”
Harry Smythe slipped quickly out the courtroom and called Joshua to give him an immediate status report. He got his voicemail and left a lengthy message.
Cloistered in his hotel suite Joshua wasn’t taking any calls other than those from the Roundtable. That day he had been in constant contact with Phil Rankowitz about the AmeriNews project. Phil had his entire wireless tech team ready to pull the switch on the national unveiling of their news service, sending it to half of the cell phones in America. But one thing was missing. The technical support engineers at World Teleco would have to open the electronic gate.
The night before, and first thing again that morning, Phil’s media brokers had called the chief telecommunications engineer for the global telecom company, threatening, cajoling, pleading with him to connect the AmeriNews feed to the Allfones that were serviced by World Teleco, just as their contract had required.
“Look,” the engineer blew back, “I’ve been told this is a transaction in dispute. We’re not about to throw the on-switch just because you want it. My superiors say no, and I’ve got to follow orders. Sorry.”
Then Joshua got a text-message from Abigail. It said simply, “With lawyers now. Will advise.”
Abigail had caught a shuttle flight down to the capital the night before.
Now, in a small coffee shop near the Federal Communications Commission building in D.C., Abigail sat at a table with four lawyers, all of them veterans in communications law. She was briefing them on their legal mission.
“All of you have the affidavit,” she began, “of the witness to the conversation between Allen Fulsin and Bill Cheavers, the executive with World Teleco. He lays it all out in there.”
“I just have to ask,” said one of the lawyers, a middle-aged woman, “about this guy who signed the affidavit, where he got this stuff? How was he able to simply ‘overhear,’ as he vaguely describes it, this really startling conversation between Fulsin and Cheavers?”
“You can ask,” Abigail answered matter-of-factly, “but I won’t be answering. Now, let’s get to the overall strategy here. There are five commissioners who sit on the FCC. I’ll be taking the chairman, Jacob Daniels. I’ve assigned each one of you to one of the other commissioners. As you know, for some strange reason, President Corland, after he was elected, has dragged his heels in exercising his executive prerogative in appointing a new chairman of the FCC. I think Corland has simply had his hands full with a number of crises. I have a good professional relationship with Daniels, so I will approach him first. If I think he’s amenable to my argument, I will hit the Quick-Tweet—QT—function on my Allfone and instant-message you all with the Twitter ‘go’ sign to approach your respective commissioners.”
“I’d like to go over the legal theory we’ll be arguing with these commissioners,” one of the other lawyers said.
“Very simple,” Abigail said. “You’ll remember when all the national news media—all the television networks and all the news-radio syndicates—were required to transfer over to the Internet for the delivery of their communications content. Arguments broke out about who would control it. Who would supervise it. The courts struck down all the legislative attempts to structure a federal oversight. Congress, worried about the economically distressed media and news industry, lifted the antitrust restrictions on those businesses. Internet-based media quickly became a monopoly that now rests in the hands of a few transnational corporations. But remember, the FCC still retains a very narrow, rarely used power over the Internet.”
“Right, only in cases of clear viewpoint discrimination by the telecom companies,” another attorney chimed in.
“Exactly,” Abigail said. “We all know that discrimination by the telecoms against ‘politically incorrect’ viewpoints over the web does happen. But no one has been able to prove it. Until now. This affidavit is the smoking gun that shows that World Teleco is committing a viewpoint-based act of illegal discrimination against our client and the AmeriNews project.”
“Sounds logical,” the first lawyer said. But she pointed out, “The Chairman has a great deal of discretion. How do you know he’s going to buy this? And how in the world are you going to get him to act immediately? The FCC is known for dragging some issues out for years.”
Abigail smiled and said, “Leave that up to me.”
“But the chairman is not going to issue a cease-and-desist order by himself,” a lawyer retorted, tapping his pen on the table for emphasis.
“No, he’s not,” Abigail replied. “He’s going to want backup from at least two of the other four commissioners, so he’s got a majority vote of three out of five.” Then she added, “And that’s where you fine legal advocates come into the picture.”
Fewer than thirty minutes later Abigail was on the eighth floor of the Federal Communications Commission building, in the vestibule of the office of Jacob Daniels, the chairman. In her hand was the file containing the affidavit. Chairman Daniels’ secretary had already been given the message that there was an urgent need to speak to the chairman.
After a wait of forty minutes, the chairman’s legal counsel strode out. He was a young lawyer, in his early thirties, and he had a pressed smile and an insincere handshake.
“Ms…,” he said, searching for Abigail’s name.
“Abigail Jordan,” she said. “Could you tell me if attorney Cort Windom is still working as Chairman Daniels’ chief legal counsel?”
“I’m afraid not. He left about a year ago to practice law with a D.C. firm. I’ve taken his spot. Can I help you?”
“I used to do a lot of work here with Mr. Windom, representing media clients before the FCC,” she said. “I also worked very closely with Chairman Daniels on a number of communications issues. Back when he was a new Commissioner. I haven’t seen him since he’s been serving as chairman. But I always enjoyed an excellent relationship with Jacob.”
“Well…that’s nice,” he said blandly.
“Did you get my message…?”
“Yes. You’d like a meeting with the chairman. I’d be glad to pass your name on to Chairman Daniels’ scheduling secretary. Maybe something could be set up a few weeks from now.”
“This is an emergency. It can’t wait.”
The lawyer struck a pose as if his mother had just been insulted.
“I’m sorry. But protocol is that walk-in requests for appointments must first be vetted through the scheduling secretary. No exceptions.”
“I assure you this is a matter that Chairman Daniels is definitely going to want to discuss immediately.”
“No exceptions,” the lawyer said with a strained smile.
Abigail sat back down in the lobby chair.
“Would you like to speak to the scheduling secretary?” he asked.
“No. I’ll wait for Jacob.”
“Chairman Daniels is not going to take a walk-in appointment with you.”
Abigail smiled back at the young lawyer but didn’t move.
“Perhaps,” he said, “you should come back another time.”
She kept smiling. But didn’t budge.
“I really don’t want to have to call for security…”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t,” she said, gripping her file even tighter.
There was a long, uncomfortable moment as the lawyer bobbed on his toes and Abigail sat stone-still in the chair, the file in her lap.
The secretary at the reception desk was staring at the scene, and her mouth was parted slightly in anxious wonderment. Everyone in that vestibule of the chairman’s office knew that something was about to happen.
And it did.
The door to the vestibule swung open, and Chairman Jacob Daniels strode in, his suit coat off and in his shirtsleeves, holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
“Had to go across the street to get this,” he said absently. “When are they supposed to repair our coffee machine? Does anybody know?”
Then Jacob Daniels swept the room with his gaze, looking for an answer. His eyes locked on Abigail.
He searched for her name.
“Abigail…uh…”
“Yes, of course. With all the news about your husband, how could I forget your last name?”
“Right,” she said with a grin.
“We’ve missed seeing you around here. You did some great communications work for your media clients.”
“Thanks. I liked the work. But I’ve been out of the practice for a while.”
“That’s the legal profession’s loss then,” he said. “So, my staff treating you all right?”
Abigail glanced over at the lawyer who was no longer bouncing on his toes. He was now standing perfectly still. Hoping that the shrapnel that would be coming his way any minute would merely be a maiming injury, and not a career-killer.
“Oh, yes,” Abigail said flashing another bright smile. “Your staff attorney here has been most helpful.”
The lawyer managed a meek smile in return and started breathing again.
“Well, what brings you here?” Daniels asked.
“An urgent matter that I think you will find very interesting,” she said.
“It must be important to bring you back here,” the chairman said.
Then he pointed to his inner office and said, “Let’s talk. I’ve got a few minutes.”