The reaction was fast and furious. Speaker Blaine had barely gotten home before Congressman Herman Foster was on CNN disclaiming everything that the Speaker had said. “Speaker Blaine does not speak for the Republican Party when he advocates betraying the trust of our constituents by abandoning the principles on which we were elected.”
Congressman Blaine went in the kitchen and poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He went back to the living room, where Herman Foster had been replaced on CNN by Congressman Sam Snyder, presenting the opposing viewpoint.
His cell phone rang. He had left it on the coffee table, didn’t trust it in his pocket. He snatched it up.
“Yes?” he said breathlessly.
“What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
It took Congressman Blaine a moment to place the voice. When he did, his heart nearly stopped. Calvin Hancock! The last person in the world he wanted to talk to now.
Calvin Hancock was not a man you could brush off. He had spent over a million dollars on the Speaker’s campaign. The situation did not matter. When Calvin Hancock called, you answered.
“Sir—”
“Have you forgotten who your friends are? Have you forgotten who funded your campaign?”
“No, sir, I—”
“Your fellow Republicans seem to think so. Or haven’t you noticed.”
“You mean Herman Foster?”
“Is anyone else calling you out on national TV? I’m sure they will. He’s just the first.”
“I’ll call Herman. We have a relationship.”
“Not anymore, you don’t. Weren’t you watching? The gentleman made his feelings pretty clear.”
“I know, sir, and—”
“If that’s not bad enough, I’ve got to watch that idiot Sam Snyder supporting you on national television. Sam fucking Snyder, who’s not only the opposition, he’s a personal family friend of the President. Praising you on TV.”
The phone bleeped.
Speaker Blaine jumped. He pulled it from his ear, looked at it.
Caller Unknown.
That was them!
That was the call!
“I have another call,” he said helplessly.
“More important than mine?”
“No, sir, of course not. But—” His mind whirled, searching for a reason. He couldn’t find one. “I have to take it,” he said, and broke the connection. He’d pay for that later. He didn’t care. He clicked on the new call.
It was the voice he’d come to dread. “You didn’t do what we asked.”
“I did. Weren’t you watching?”
“I was. You were supposed to tell Republicans to vote for the bill.”
“I said we need a bipartisan effort.”
“Did I ask you to give them a hint? Go back on TV and tell them directly to vote for the bill.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You’ll do what we say or your daughter dies.”
He steeled himself. “Let me talk to her.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to let you.”
“How do I know she’s alive?”
“She’s alive.”
“How do I know?”
“I told you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You have no choice.”
“I don’t care. I can’t go on not knowing. I have to know she’s alive. If you can’t prove she’s alive, then she must be dead.” His voice broke. “Is she dead? Is my daughter dead? If she’s dead you get nothing, you understand, nothing. I’ve done everything you asked. You have no reason to hurt her.”
“Don’t give me a reason.”
“I’m not, I’m not! I’m telling you to keep her alive! You get nothing unless you keep her alive. Prove it to me. Prove it to me or you get nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing.”
The phone clicked dead.