Balance of Power Read online

  Balance of Power

  Richard North Patterson

  Balance

  of

  Power

  ALSO BY RICHARD NORTH PATTERSON

  Protect and Defend

  Dark Lady

  No Safe Place

  Silent Witness

  The Final Judgment

  Eyes of a Child

  Degree of Guilt

  Private Screening

  Escape the Night

  The Outside Man

  The Lasko Tangent

  Balance

  of

  Power

  Richard North Patterson

  B a l l a n t i n e B o o k s • N e w y o r k

  A Ballantine Book

  Published by The Random House Publishing Group

  Copyright © 2003 by Richard North Patterson

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of

  Canada Limited, Toronto.

  Balance of Power is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are a product of the

  author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Patterson, Richard North. Balance of power / Richard North Patterson.—1st ed.

  p. cm. eISBN 0-345-46988-7

  1. Firearms—Law and legislation—Fiction. 2. Firearms industry and trade—Fiction. 3. Presidents' spouses—Fiction. 4. Washington (D.C.)— Fiction. 5. Gun control—Fiction. 6. Presidents—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3566.A8242B35 2003 813'.54—dc21

  2003051848

  Design by C. Linda Dingler

  v1.0

  For Philip Rotner

  A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

  —THE SECOND AMENDMENT TO THE UNITED STATES CONSTITUTION

  C H A R A C T E R S

  The White House

  Kerry Francis Kilcannon, President of the United States

  Lara Costello Kilcannon, First Lady of the United States

  Ellen Penn, Vice President of the United States

  Clayton Slade, Chief of Staff to the President

  Kit Pace, Press Secretary to the President

  Peter Lake, head of the President's Secret Service detail

  Liz Curry, Director of Legislative Affairs

  Alex Cole, Congressional Liaison

  Jack Sanders, Chief Domestic Policy Advisor

  Connie Coulter, Press Secretary to the First Lady

  Francesca Thibault, White House Social Secretary

  The First Lady's Family

  Inez Costello, Lara's mother

  Joan Costello Bowden, Lara's younger sister

  John Bowden, Lara's brother-in-law

  Marie Bowden, Lara's niece

  Mary Costello, Lara's youngest sister

  The United States Senate

  Senator Francis Xavier Fasano of Pennsylvania, Senate Majority Leader

  Senator Charles Hampton of Vermont, Senate Minority Leader

  Senator Chad Palmer of Ohio, Chairman of the Commerce Committee

  Senator Paul Harshman of Idaho

  Senator Cassie Rollins of Maine

  Senator Frank Ayala of New Mexico

  Senator Vic Coletti of Connecticut

  Senator Macdonald Gage of Kentucky

  Senator Dave Ruckles of Oklahoma

  Senator Jack Slezak of Michigan

  Senator Leo Weller of Montana

  Senator Betsy Shapiro of California

  Senator Kate Jarman of Vermont

  Senator Hank Westerly of Nebraska

  The Gun Lobby

  Charles Dane, President of the Sons of the Second Amendment ("SSA")

  Martin Bresler, former President of the Gun Sports Coalition

  Bill Campton, Communications Director for the SSA

  Carla Fell, Legislative Director for the SSA

  Jerry Kirk, Vice President of the Gun Sports Coalition

  Kelsey Landon, former senator from Louisiana and outside legislative strategist for the SSA

  The Lexington Arms Company

  George Callister, President and CEO

  Mike Reiner, Vice President of Marketing

  Norman Conn, Manager of Quality Control

  Costello versus The Lexington Arms Company, etal.

  Sarah Dash, co-counsel for Mary Costello

  Robert Lenihan, co-counsel for Mary Costello

  John Nolan, counsel for Lexington Arms

  Harrison Fancher, counsel for the SSA

  Gardner W. Bond, Judge of the United States District Court for the Northern District of California

  Avram Gold, outside counsel to President Kilcannon

  Evan Pritchard, counsel for Martin Bresler

  Angelo Rotelli, Judge of the Superior Court for the City and County of San Francisco

  Other Victims and Their Families

  Laura Blanchard, a sophomore at Stanford University

  Henry Serrano, a security guard

  Felice Serrano, his widow

  George Serrano, his son

  David Walsh, a security guard

  The Witnesses in Costello versus The Lexington Arms Company, etal.

  Dr. Callie Hines, trauma surgeon, San Francisco General Hospital

  Charles Monk, homicide inspector, San Francisco Police

  Ben Gehringer, felon, member of The Liberty Force, a white supremacist group

  George Johnson, felon, member of The Liberty Force

  Dr. Frederick Glass, expert witness for Lexington Arms

  Dr. Larry Walters, expert witness for Mary Costello

  Dr. David Roper, expert witness for Mary Costello

  The Media

  Cathie Civitch of NBC, interviewer

  Taylor Yarborough of ABC, interviewer

  Carole Tisone, San Francisco Chronicle reporter

  The Lobbyists

  Tony Calvo of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce

  Mary Bryant of the National Association of Manufacturers

  John Metrillo of the National Federation of Independent Businesses

  The President's Family

  Michael Kilcannon, Kerry's father

  Mary Kilcannon, Kerry's mother

  James J. Kilcannon, Kerry's brother and predecessor as Senator from New Jersey, assassinated while seeking the Democratic Presidential nomination

  Others

  Elise Hampton, wife of Senator Chuck Hampton

  Allie Palmer, wife of Senator Chad Palmer

  John Halloran, District Attorney for the City and County of San Francisco

  Marcia Harding, Chief of Halloran's Domestic Violence Unit

  Caroline Masters, Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court

  Anna Chen, Lara's bridesmaid

  Nakesha Hunt, Lara's bridesmaid

  Linda Mendez, Lara's bridesmaid

  The Reverend Bob Christy, Head of the Christian Commitment

  Warren Colby, former United States Senator from Maine and predecessor to Senator Cassie Rollins

  Leslie Shoop, Chief of Staff to Senator Rollins

  Lance Jarrett, President and CEO of Silicon Valley's largest chip maker

  Rep. Thomas Jencks, Speaker of the United States House of Representatives

  The Prime Minister of England

  The Prime Minister of Israel

  The President of the Palestine Liberation Organization
<
br />   Mahmoud Al Anwar, terrorist and leader of Al Qaeda

  PART ONE

  THE

  WEDDING

  JULY 4–LABOR DAY WEEKEND

  ONE

  Feeling the gun against the nape of her neck, Joan Bowden froze.

  Her consciousness narrowed to the weapon she could not see: her vision barely registered the cramped living room, the images on her television—the President and his fiancée, opening the Fourth of July gala beneath the towering obelisk of the Washington Monument. She could feel John's rage through the cold metal on her skin, smell the liquor on his breath.

  "Why?" she whispered.

  "You wanted him."

  He spoke in a dull, emphatic monotone. Who? she wanted to ask. But she was too afraid; with a panic akin to madness, she mentally scanned the faces from the company cookout they had attended hours before. Perhaps Gary—they had talked for a time.

  Desperate, she answered, "I don't want anyone."

  She felt his hand twitch. "You don't want me. You have contempt for me."

  Abruptly, his tone had changed to a higher pitch, paranoid and accusatory, the prelude to the near hysteria which issued from some unfathomable recess of his brain. Two nights before, she had awakened, drenched with sweat, from the nightmare of her own death.

  Who would care for Marie?

  Moments before, their daughter had sat at the kitchen table, a portrait of dark-haired intensity as she whispered to the doll for whom she daily set a place. Afraid to move, Joan strained to see the kitchen from the corner of her eye. John's remaining discipline was to wait until Marie had vanished; lately their daughter seemed to have developed a preternatural sense of impending violence which warned her to take flight. A silent minuet of abuse, binding daughter to father.

  Marie and her doll were gone.

  "Please," Joan begged.

  The cords of her neck throbbed with tension. The next moment

  could be fateful: she had learned that protest enraged him, passivity insulted him.

  Slowly, the barrel traced a line to the base of her neck, then pulled away.

  Joan's head bowed. Her body shivered with a spasm of escaping breath.

  She heard him move from behind the chair, felt him staring down at her. Fearful not to look at him, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

  With an open palm, he slapped her.

  Her head snapped back, skull ringing. She felt blood trickling from her lower lip.

  John placed the gun to her mouth.

  Her husband. The joyful face from her wedding album, now darkeyed and implacable, the 49ers T-shirt betraying the paunch on his toothin frame.

  Smiling grimly, John Bowden pulled the trigger.

  Recoiling, Joan cried out at the hollow metallic click. The sounds seemed to work a chemical change in him—a psychic wound which widened his eyes. His mouth opened, as if to speak; then he turned, staggering, and reeled toward their bedroom.

  Slumping forward, Joan covered her face.

  Soon he would pass out. She would be safe then; in the morning, before he left, she would endure his silence, the aftershock of his brutality and shame.

  At least Marie knew only the silence.

  Queasy, Joan stumbled to the bathroom in the darkened hallway, a painful throbbing in her jaw. She stared in the mirror at her drawn face, not quite believing the woman she had become. Blood trickled from her swollen lip.

  She dabbed with tissue until it stopped. For another moment Joan stared at herself. Then, quietly, she walked to her daughter's bedroom.

  Marie's door was closed. With painstaking care, her mother turned the knob, opening a crack to peer through.

  Cross-legged, Marie bent over the china doll which once had been her grandmother's. Joan felt a spurt of relief; the child had not seen them, did not see her now. Watching, Joan was seized by a desperate love.

  With slow deliberation, Marie raised her hand and slapped the vacant china face.

  Gently, the child cradled the doll in her arms. "I won't do that again," she promised. "As long as you're good."

  Tears welling, Joan backed away. She went to the kitchen sink and vomited.

  She stayed there for minutes, hands braced against the sink. At last she turned on the faucet. Watching her sickness swirl down the drain, Joan faced what she must do.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she searched for the slip of paper with his telephone number, hidden in her leather-bound book of recipes. Call me, he had urged. No matter the hour.

  She must not wake her husband.

  Lifting the kitchen telephone from its cradle, Joan crept back to the living room, praying for courage. On the television, a graceful arc of fireworks rose above the obelisk.

  TWO

  President Kerry Francis Kilcannon and his fiancée, Lara Costello, watched as a red flare rose above the Mall, bursting into a galaxy of falling stars which framed the Washington Monument.

  For this rarity, an evening alone, they had left the annual party for staffers and retreated to the porch on the second floor of the White House. Spread across their table was a white linen cloth, a picnic of cheese and fruit, and a bottle of light chardonnay which cooled in a silver cylinder, a gift from the President of France. Lara took Kerry's hand.

  "When I was six," she told him, "our father took us to the fireworks at Crissy Field. I remember holding his hand, watching all those explosions above the Golden Gate Bridge. That's my last memory of being with him."

  Turning from the fireworks, Kerry studied the sculpted face—intense dark eyes, high cheekbones, pale skin framed by jet-black hair—which, to her bemusement, had helped Lara rise from a semianonymous political reporter for the New York Times to celebrity as a television journalist. Like many women, Kerry supposed, her self-concept had been fixed in adolescence: then she had not thought of herself as beautiful—though she surely was—but as the perfect student, the dutiful oldest daughter who must help her mother and sisters. It was the dutiful daughter who had achieved success, driven to make Inez Costello proud, to free her younger sisters from the struggle caused by their father's desertion. Even at thirty-two, Kerry knew, her family still defined her.

  "What I was hoping you'd remember," he said, "is the scene from To Catch a Thief. Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in Monaco, watching fireworks from her hotel room."

  Lara faced him with an amused, appraising look. "I remember that they lay down on the couch, and then the camera panned away. The fireworks were a metaphor."

  "Uh-huh. Very 1950s."

  Leaning forward, Lara kissed him, a lingering touch of the lips, then rested her cheek against his shoulder. "This is the twenty-first century," she told him. "No metaphors required."

  • • •

  Afterward, they lay in his canopied bed listening to the last, faint whistling of fireworks. One table lamp still glowed—making love, and after, both needed to see the other's face.

  Smiling, she lightly mussed his hair. "You're not too bad," she told him. "At least as Presidents go."

  As she intended, this elicited the boyish grin which lit his face and crinkled the corners of his eyes. There had been too little lightness in Kerry's life. Even his first success in politics, election to the Senate at age thirty, had been as surrogate for his brother, Senator James Kilcannon, assassinated in San Francisco while running for President. Lara had been nineteen then; she remembered watching the telecast of James's funeral, the haunted look on Kerry's face as he attended to his widowed mother. So that when, as a reporter for the New York Times, she had met him seven years later, the first thing she noticed was not his fine-featured face, incongruously youthful for a potential President, nor his thatch of chestnut hair, nor even the scar at the corner of one eye. It was the startling contradiction presented by the eyes themselves: their green-flecked blue irises, larger than most, gave Lara the sense—rare in a white male politician—of someone who had seen more sadness than most. Then, she had thought this an illusion, abetted by her memory of the fu
neral; only later, when Kerry shared the private history he had entrusted to almost no one, did she understand how true it was.