Richard Patterson - Balance of Power

"All of a sudden, there were demonstrators in front of our company, and I was getting death threats on the Internet." Pausing, Callister finished quietly, "The day before the President's wedding, the board ordered me to pull the plug."

Sitting back, Sarah surveyed the scene in front of her: Callister, now dissociated from the lawyers, Fancher scribbling notes with the fury of a slasher, Nolan, straining to cope with a loss of control which, in his experience, surely was unprecedented. "George," Nolan said in a strained voice, "your testimony has implications far beyond the concerns of the SSA. You have obligations to your company."

Callister turned to him with a look of mild disdain. "Yes," he said simply, "I do."

"After the Costello murders," Sarah cut in, "did you take any further action?"

"George," Nolan repeated, "I'm imploring you to take a break."

Callister turned from him. "I went to the board," he told Sarah, "and said enough was enough. The shooter had used a P-2, and the eleventh Eagle's Claw bullet in a forty-round magazine had killed that little girl I'd met at Camp David. It was past time for reaching an arrangement with the President, if that was even possible with all that had happened." Callister's tone grew soft. "I knew Kilcannon would do everything in his power to destroy Lexington Arms unless we gave him what he needed, and that was what I told them."

His quiet statement, with its implicit reference to the lawsuit, reminded Sarah of her first call from Lara Kilcannon. It seemed a long time ago. And for most of that time, she had assumed that George Callister was as callous as Charles Dane. Softly, she said, "Why couldn't Lexington reach agreement with the President, Mr. Callister?"

"Lord knows I tried. In fact I told the board I'd resign unless they authorized me to discontinue the P-2 and Eagle's Claw." Callister gazed at the table, as though drawn into memory. "I guaranteed them there'd be more lawsuits coming—if not from the First Lady or her sister, then from the other families, and that the victims had too much public sympathy for us to risk a trial. But before the board could hold a vote, Dane called to ask for a second meeting . . ."

"Mr. Callister," Nolan said formally, "I'm forced to admonish you to consider the legal implications of your actions here today. By ignoring my instructions, you're acting in conflict with the interests of your company."

Callister shrugged. "Someone is. Maybe you should hear the rest before you decide it's me."

Tense, Sarah sensed that what was to follow would dwarf all that had come before. "At the second meeting," she asked swiftly, "what did Dane have to say?"

"That the SSA's objective was to get rid of Kerry Kilcannon. Rather than make a pact with the devil, I should just get out of the way and let them work with the Republicans on a tort reform bill which would get us off the hook."

Sarah heard Lenihan laugh softly. "That conversation," Fancher protested, "is the epitome of political and legislative strategy . . ."

"Did you respond to Dane's suggestion?" Sarah broke in.

"Yes. I said that Congress had never passed a gun immunity bill and sure as hell couldn't now. And that Kilcannon would veto it if they did."

"How did Dane react?"

Briefly Callister glanced at Fancher. "He said that the SSA would commit whatever resources were needed to pass tort reform in both houses of Congress. Then he told me something that I couldn't understand: that Kilcannon could be handled if he got in the way."

The last words of his answer hit Sarah hard. At once, she was intensely aware of the video cam focused on George Callister. "Did Mr. Dane tell you what he meant by that?"

"Not at first." Callister's voice was gentle, his eyes bleak. "I told him he was crazy to think that Kilcannon could be 'handled' after what had happened to his wife's family."

"How did he respond?"

"That I didn't need to worry, because they had personal information which concerned both the President and the First Lady."

The room, and everyone in it, was completely still. In the silence Sarah noticed the soft whir of the video cam. "Did you ask him to elaborate?"

"Yes. All that Dane said was that they could never survive it, and they'd be foolish to try."

Fancher had stopped taking notes. Absently, Nolan scratched the bridge of his nose. Quietly, Sarah asked, "Do you now know what Dane meant by that?"

Callister nodded. "The morning the abortion story broke I called Dane, demanding to know if this was what he'd meant. He just laughed, and asked me why it mattered when the President had just become a eunuch." At last, the witness turned to Nolan. "You're the lawyer, John, not me. But I always thought that blackmail was a crime."

When Nolan did not answer, Callister told him, "Maybe the board will get rid of me for this. But right now your choice is to represent this company and not the SSA. Or I'll fire you along with Reiner."

* * *

When the deposition was over, Callister said to Nolan, "I'd like a word in private with Ms. Dash." It was not a request.

They stepped out in the hallway. Callister stood over her, the briefest glint of humor appearing in his level grey eyes. "If you happen to speak to the President," he requested, "tell him that the Prime Minister worked his magic. And that now we're as square as I can make us. From here on out, both of you are on your own."

TWELVE

Sarah and Mary sat at opposite ends of Sarah's couch, a cold winter rain splattering against the windows of her living room. Mary listened closely as Sarah struggled to convey the quality of what she had experienced.

"You know by now what it's supposed to be like," Sarah told her. "Depositions aren't a human process. The lawyers object, and the witness gives the answer he's supposed to give. But not Callister.

"At some point he began to expose the whole charade for what it was. Suddenly I wasn't just a lawyer, and Callister was more than a witness. Nolan has never looked so small." Pausing, she tried to translate her sense of Callister's reactions. "Callister had been taking in the entire rancid joke—Bond doing his Wizard of Oz routine through his little twerp of a law clerk, knowing full well that the defense lawyers were screwing us over; Nolan and Fancher working together to conceal the SSA's legal problems until the Senate votes. Given what he knew, Callister couldn't stand playing the role of the good German."

Mary herself looked dazed. "Do you think the defense lawyers knew about the blackmail?"

"Maybe not about Callister's final call to Dane. M aybe . But Nolan's too good a lawyer not to have interviewed Callister about everything that happened before the lawsuit, pretty soon after we filed it. So the appearance of the abortion story had to raise for Nolan the same questions about blackmail that Callister asked Dane." Contemplative, Sarah sipped from her glass of chardonnay. "If you wanted to be charitable, you'd argue that Nolan decided that his client's best interests lay in sticking with the SSA. After all, the day after tomorrow the Senate's due to bury this case for good."

"So why didn't Callister just keep quiet?"

"Callister's smart—he didn't just do this out of conscience. My guess is that he thinks our lawsuit actually serves Lexington's interests."

"How?"

"Because it may be the only way to break the SSA's control over the American gun industry. With what Callister told us, the SSA would become the principal defendant, and Lexington could cross-claim against the SSA for any damages you recover from Lexington." Sarah thought more swiftly now. "Suppose Callister offered to settle with you for a small chunk of cash, Lexington's agreement to the terms the President proposed, and the company's cooperation in prosecuting your case against the SSA at trial. The SSA's power to bully gun manufacturers could effectively be over."