Rule of Law Read online

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Rule of Law © 2017 by Julie L. Brown

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  For information address JAB Press, P.O. Box 9462, Seattle, WA 98109.

  Cover Design by Damonza

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017901223

  ISBN 978-0-9969772-3-4 (paperback)

  ISBN 978-0-9969772-4-1 (ebook)

  First Edition: March 2017

  For Audi.

  And for victims of bullying everywhere.

  You are not alone.

  There is a feeling among the masses generally that something is radically wrong. They are despairing of political action. They say the only thing you do in Washington is to take money from the pockets of the poor and put it into the pockets of the rich. They say that this Government is a conspiracy against the common people to enrich the already rich. I hear such remarks every day.

  — Oscar Ameringer, 1932

  If people throw stones at you, build something.

  — Unknown

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Washington, DC - One Month Ago

  CHAPTER ONE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER TWO

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER THREE

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER SIX

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER TEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Quantico, Virginia

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Columbus, Ohio

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  Bellevue, Washington

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

  Air Force One

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  Air Force One

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  Casper, Wyoming

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER NINETY

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
r />   The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER NINETY-NINE

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED

  Seattle, Washington

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIVE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIX

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHT

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ELEVEN

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWELVE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

  Quantico, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO

  Alexandria, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR

  Fairfax, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE

  Arlington, Virginia

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX

  The White House, Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN

  Washington, DC

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT

  Washington, DC

  Epilogue

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - One Month Later

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to

  Where it all began . . .

  Prologue

  Washington, DC - One Month Ago

  She should have thrown the letter away.

  Or shredded it.

  She knelt before the altar of the small, quaint Presbyterian church near the White House. The nave was empty. Easter services had just ended. Her husband, Grayson, and the children waited outside. Lead Secret Service agent, Josh McPherson, stood alone by the entryway at the front of the church.

  Although her hands were clasped together and relaxed, her head bowed in supplication, President Whitney Fairchild was not praying.

  Instead, she was reading.

  The expensive parchment paper, creased horizontally into two sections, lay on the raised carpeted step, worn from her reading it every day since her inauguration two months ago when she had first opened the envelope.

  She needn’t have bothered.

  She had memorized every word.

  Dear Senator,

  I’m sure you already own this classic, but this volume is in pristine condition and, I am told, one of a kind. I’ve enjoyed our reading challenge, and since I’m so far ahead, I wanted to give you a chance to catch up.

  Seriously, I want to thank you for the opportunity to work for you and alongside you all these years. Every day has been a joy.

  I am proud of what we’ve accomplished and look forward to what we’ll accomplish over the next eight years (yes, I said eight!). I know you will win.

  I want to have one of our talks after you read this. I believe we’ll have much to say to each other.

  You have no idea how much I love you.

  Your son,

  Landon

  Despite his sins, she still missed Landon Phillips.

  “Mom?”

  Whitney started at the sound of her son’s voice.

  Snatching the letter with reflexes she didn’t realize she possessed, she stuffed it back into her purse.

  Her son, Chandler, stood beside her, wearing a jacket, shirt, and slacks.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Working.”

  “Working and praying at the same time?”

  She rose. “In this job, I do that often.”

  “Dad sent me in to get you. He’s hungry.”

  She brushed the bangs off his forehead. His face was like looking at a mirror. “Dad, huh?” She looped her arm through his. “Did I tell you how handsome you look today, my favorite son?”

  He grinned. “I’m your only son, Mom.”

  Whitney’s smile faltered. “That is true.”

  They walked down the aisle past the stained-glass windows to the front of the church. As he chatted about the action movie they had watched last night in the theater room in the White House, her thoughts wandered.

  She chastised herself for being careless. She was not ready to share the truth about Landon with anyone yet. Particularly her husband and her children.

  That was close. I need to be more careful.

  Part I

  CHAPTER ONE

  Fairfax, Virginia

  You heard the breathing first.

  Heavy breathing from one. Quick breaths through the nose from the one accustomed to fighting.

  Next, you heard the whack, whack, whack as gloves met flesh.

  Then, the smell: the overwhelming musk of teenage sweat.

  There were no lights.

  The “spectators” used the flashlights on their iPhones to illuminate the area. Some shone real ones.

  The two boys in the cage wore MMA gloves, but no headgear or pads. No shirts. No shoes. But—oddly—they both wore baseball pants. One was in pro-style knickers.

  Those were the rules.

  Blood speckled the fighter’s knickers like an impressionist painting.

  Not his blood.

  Watching the fight, a boy clung to the netting outside the cage. He held it tight to hold himself up. His knuckles stuck out like small stones in the dark.

  Every punch made him sick.

  He didn’t want to be here. If it were up to him, he would rather be anywhere else. Even home, doing homework. Or at the dentist, having a cavity filled.

  But he had no choice. Attendance was required.

  The fight would be over soon. The boy in the regular baseball pants was pinned against one of the poles. Each time he slipped off the pole from the sweat on his back and fell against the netting, the guy in the knickers would grab him, right him in front of the pole again, and pummel him some more. In the face. In the stomach. In the ribs.

  In between punches and exhalations, the guy in the knickers shouted, “That’s poppin’! That’s poppin’!”

  The spectators—also shirtless and in baseball pants—wore baseball caps. They chanted: “Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’! Poppin’!”

  The gladiatorial dogfight atmosphere intensified as the fight went on. The punches landed harder. The cheering loude
r. The sweat shinier.

  When the fighter against the pole finally faltered, the boy in the knickers threw him down and then lifted him by both ears and slammed his head to the turf.

  No one made a move to help the loser.

  Knickers started kicking him with the instep of his foot. “That’s hot!”

  The spectators chanted: “Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!”

  The presumptive victor mounted the prone boy, pummeling his head with vicious punches: his left ear, then right.

  “Loser!” he screamed.

  A regulation fight would have been declared over.

  “Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser! Loser!”

  “Tap out, man!” yelled one of the spectators.

  “Yeah!” said another.

  “Do it!” said an opposing voice.

  “Fuck him up!”

  “Queer bait!”

  “Kill him!”

  “Let him die!”

  The victor’s arm rose high in the air to deliver the coup de grâce, the ensuing punch anticlimactic. Blood flew from the nose and mouth of the boy on the ground, drops spraying those who were watching.

  The vanquished fighter stopped moving, his long legs still. His arms extended perpendicular to his body. A crucifix without the cross. Even in the artificial light, the boy outside the cage saw the blood running freely from the prone boy’s nose and mouth. Both of his eyes, blackening.

  He looked dead.

  The boy outside still clung to the netting. His arms shook.

  He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  A grumbling roiled in the pit of his stomach. The bile rose.

  Leaning forward, his head between his arms, he threw up on the ground. Teammates near him jumped out of the way.

  “Gross!”

  “That shit better not be on my pants, man!”

  “Wimp!”

  “Idiot!”

  “Faggot!”

  The name calling hurt the boy, although he should be used to it. He battled the tears trying to escape his eyes.

  He lost the fight.

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Made sure his baseball cap was on tight.

  And then he ran.

  *

  With his arms around their shoulders, to an observer, he appeared drunk. Good friends were helping him get home safely. The illusion ended when they dumped him on the front lawn of his parents’ home, his head barely missing the sidewalk.

  “That’ll teach you,” one boy said, kicking him.

  “Warriors don’t run,” said the other.

  The two ran back to the car, their sneakers loud in the quiet of the neighborhood.

  Every bone and muscle in his body ached. He scarcely registered the squeal of the tires as their car sped away.