39

VIRGINIA BEACH, VIRGINIA

This time the phone call came late in the morning. It was the metallic voice that Paige immediately recognized as the Patriot.

“Are you ready for the hearing tomorrow?” the Patriot asked.

“Yes. We’ve been prepping Wyatt Jackson for the last two weeks.”

“They’re going to try to sandbag you,” the voice said. “Make sure you’re ready on the state secrets defense. That’s why I didn’t want Jackson filing this case to begin with. You are almost certain to lose on that point.”

Paige was tired of playing games. They were one day away from the most important hearing of her life, and she needed more than dire predictions of gloom. “Who is this? And why should we trust you?”

“Have I been wrong yet?”

Before Paige could answer, he was off the phone.

She immediately called Wellington and briefed him about the phone call. Wellington decided they should patch in Wyatt, and before long Paige was describing her conversation with the Patriot again. She could picture Wyatt, pacing around the RV, chewing on a cigar, taking it all in.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “We get an anonymous phone call from a guy who may or may not have inside information about the legal strategy for the defense lawyers, and we’re supposed to drop everything and focus on an area of the law that those defense lawyers have spent about two pages on?”

“We don’t have to drop everything,” Paige said. “I just want to make sure you’ve read those cases we’ve been sending you on state secrets privilege and that you’re ready to argue the point.”

“I’ve been in court on another matter the last three days, and the Feres Doctrine has kept me plenty busy. Why don’t you prepare for the state secrets defense?”

Wyatt said it as if he were ordering a cup of coffee, but Paige felt her heart jump into her throat. “Me?”

“It’s either you or Wellington. And no offense, Wellington, but that’s an easy choice.”

“I don’t know,” Paige said. “The hearing’s tomorrow.”

“Right. You’ve got almost twenty-four hours. We’re going to make you a star.”

I don’t want to be a star, Paige wanted to say. She hated the way Wyatt had waited until the last minute and then dumped this on her. But at the same time, she was a litigator, and this was why she’d gone to law school. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good to argue with the man. Knowing him, he would tell the judge that Paige was going to address the state secrets doctrine tomorrow even if she refused to accept the assignment today.

“Wellington, can you come over and help me get ready?” Paige asked.

“Sure.”

“I still don’t think they’re going to actually make the argument,” Wyatt said. “It looks bad for the president to hide behind state secrets under these circumstances. But if they do, you can address the case law and I’ll handle the Feres Doctrine and any rebuttal.”

“You sure you don’t have time to read these cases?” Paige asked.

“Positive.”

Paige spent the next sixteen hours in a state of mild panic that eventually gave way to full-blown exhaustion. She spent the first thirty minutes after Wellington arrived railing on Wyatt Jackson. “Why didn’t he read these cases?” “What good is it if we provide all this research and he never reads it?” “Why wouldn’t he already be prepared for the biggest hearing of his career?”

Wellington tried to calm her down by explaining that this was just Wyatt’s unorthodox way of mentoring young associates. “He knew that if he gave you something to do a month ahead of the hearing, you would work yourself into a frenzy. He’s confident that you’ve mastered the cases already.”

Paige didn’t want to hear it. “Some of us don’t fly by the seat of our pants. Some of us like to actually be prepared.”

“He tried the same thing on me when I first joined his firm,” Wellington confided. His pale cheeks blushed as he told the story. “He threw something at me for a hearing at the last minute. But I’m like you—I need lots of time to prepare.”

“How did it go?”

Wellington hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say that afterward he decided I should stick to writing briefs and he should do the oral arguments.”

“At least you didn’t have the whole world watching.”

Though Paige had already read the cases once, reviewing them now made her realize how few cases actually supported her argument. It seemed that every time the executive branch claimed that a case involved state secrets, the judge threw it out.

“Maybe he just wanted to take the best argument and give me the loser,” Paige complained.

She was hoping Wellington would take exception. She was hoping he would argue that the state secrets issue was not necessarily a loser. She wanted him to show off that famed legal mind. Instead, he just said, “That wouldn’t surprise me.”

By two o’clock in the morning, when Wellington finally left, Paige had an outline of an argument. It took her another hour to settle down enough to try to get some sleep. She set the alarm for 6:00 a.m. and noticed the small box with her engagement ring where she had left it on the nightstand. She thought about Patrick and did something he would have been proud of—she said a heartfelt prayer.

The state secrets doctrine was complicated, but one thing was crystal clear: If they were going to win tomorrow, it would take a minor miracle.