Skyhook

FORTY FIVE TUESDAY, DAY 9 FEDERAL DISTRICT COURT FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA WASHINGTON, D.C. 11:25 A.M.

Gracie realized she was holding her breath as she waited for the judge to make her ruling. She glanced at April, who flashed a reassuring smile and a small nod, but the intensity of the previous ninety minutes and the energy she’d put into arguing the case were taking a toll on her ability to concentrate. She could see the government lawyers in her peripheral vision as they sat at the adjacent table shuffling papers and exchanging knowing glances. Five of them had shown up, including one newly minted lawyer as young as she. The lead attorney had forcefully argued his way through an impressive list of reasons why the judge should throw out the case and stop wasting everyone’s time. There was, they argued, no jurisdiction, insufficient notice, cases wrongly transferred, an improperly admitted petitioner’s attorney, procedural flaws in the complaints, and the basic fact that it was useless to order the government to produce wreckage they didn’t have.

Gracie had startled the government lawyers by following April’s suggestion and stating the government’s arguments herself, batting them down one by one, but the judge was very good at being impassive and unreadable.

“Very well, ladies and gentlemen, I am prepared to rule,” Judge Walton said suddenly, halting the monologue in Gracie’s head.

“I find the plaintiff’s arguments insufficient to sustain the maintenance of the various temporary restraining orders. Those orders are dissolved, and the petition for injunctions in all three combined matters is denied. These cases are dismissed.”

The gavel came down as Gracie forced herself to her feet.

“Your Honor, we serve notice of intent to immediately appeal your rulings of dismissal.”

“So noted,” the judge said, gathering her papers and evaporating from the bench through the door to her chambers.

Once again April was at her side, but Gracie motioned her back and walked over to the lead government lawyer instead.

“You gentlemen realize this is merely the opening round?” Gracie said with a cautious smile.

The senior lawyer nodded. “We fully expect we’ll see you again at some point, Miss O’Brien.”

“All this is unnecessary, you know,” she added.

He looked at her in silence for a few seconds, aware the other four on his team had quieted and were listening discreetly. The man was in his late forties and clearly a veteran.

“Precisely what do you mean?” he asked.

“What I mean is that a terrible miscarriage of justice is at the heart of this. All we want is Captain Rosen’s license and reputation restored immediately. We’re not interested in damages, or exposing whatever in the world is going on up there in Alaska, unless this drags on. But I assure you it will drag on, and we’ll end up shining the light of discovery into every nook and cranny of the United States government and the United States military until we ferret it out, or until that license is restored.”

“Miss O’Brien, if that statement is intended to somehow pressure us to broker a settlement of an FAA enforcement action, you’re talking to the wrong guys. You should be filing the appropriate action for review of the license revocation with the FAA. It means nothing to the government whether you sue or don’t sue. In fact, this has been an unnecessary waste of time, though it may have been exciting for you.”

“What?”

He laughed. “I know it’s always kind of invigorating, especially to folks who don’t understand the Beltway. I realize that for a young lawyer, running to Washington to argue in the federal courts and sue the United States of America in any form is heady stuff, but it’s seldom effective.”

Gracie felt herself flushing with anger as her hands migrated to her hips unconsciously. “You think that’s what this is all about? Dilettante law?”

“Well… these were bordering on frivolous actions, you know.”

“In a word, sir, bullshit! Perhaps you didn’t read the factual preamble. Instead of some silly little girl lawyer running in here to play with the big boys for the fun of it, I’ve got a devastated senior airline captain back in Washington state as a client who cannot understand why his government has decided to try to professionally assassinate him without evidence, without cause, and without due process.”

The lead attorney glanced at his fellows and turned back to Gracie. “Look, I don’t know why you took that to be a sexist remark, but I certainly didn’t mean it that way.”

“The hell you didn’t. And even if I bought your veiled apology, you certainly meant to play the ‘arrogant senior lawyer’ card, though it’s not having any beneficial effect on your job of protecting whatever conspiracy is in progress up there.”

“Up where?”

“Alaska. Keep your phone lines open, Counselor,” Gracie snapped. “I’ll be back this afternoon with a new hearing notice, this time for an emergency appeal.”

One of the other men snickered and the lead attorney shot his junior member a cautionary glance before turning back to Gracie.

“Miss O’Brien, please don’t get your hopes up that any appellate judge is going to dignify this case with a quick appeal. That’s not the way it works here.”

Gracie scribbled a note and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” the government lawyer asked.

“My cell phone number. When you finally realize the cover-up’s about to be exposed and want to end this in time, call me.” She turned and motioned to April, who’d been listening at a distance, and they headed for the door, pushing through to the foyer and onto the street as fast as possible. Gracie pointed to a Starbucks in the next block and April nodded, following her inside and paying for the two lattés Gracie ordered. They settled into a pair of rickety wire chairs in the corner.

“You look really angry,” April began.

“Read that as determined to kick their superior asses,” Gracie replied, immediately softening her voice with a raised hand. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Hey, snap away. I knew I was a surrogate just then.”

“You know what’s tough, April? I knew I could expect a superior attitude from anyone who showed up for the government. I knew it, and yet I still let it get to me.”

April sipped her latté and said nothing, waiting out the progress of Gracie’s thoughts as she gestured to the nearby courthouse.

“I really did expect we’d get thrown out today, you know.”

“So, now what do we do?”

Gracie leaned over to open her briefcase and pull out a sheaf of legal papers in a folder that she laid before April.

“Be careful not to get any stains on these.”

“What are they?”

“The appeal papers from the order of dismissal. I decided I’d better get them prepared last night.”

“You mean you worked all night, right?”

“Yes. Had to. I didn’t figure out the reality that we were going to get dismissed until maybe two A.M. Now I just have to find a sympathetic appeals judge on the Court of Appeals for D.C. Someone who’ll hear this case immediately.”

“Is that easy?”

“No. I’ll have to beg and plead and hope, and I may not even get past the clerks.”

“Are federal appeals court judges men?”

“Not all of them. But most are.”

“How about if you wore a thong bikini and giggled a lot?”

“Yeah, right. That would enhance my image as a serious lawyer.”

“Okay, I’ll wear the thong and go with you.”

“What? As a bribe?”

“It could work.”

Gracie chuckled. “That’s one hell of an image, Rosencrantz. Agree to hear our appeal, your honor, or April will put on some clothes.”

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” April said. “That hasn’t happened much in the last two days.”

Gracie didn’t answer, checking her watch instead. “I’ve got to call the captain, then hit the bricks. There’s only one court to go to, and I need to get over there.”

“What can I do to help?”

Gracie smiled and shook her head. “Just pray a little. This is a solo act. The silly little West Coast baby lawyer against the real world full of serious, experienced men ready to pat me on the head and tell me I’m in a dream world if I think I can succeed. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I can. Sometimes the good guys do win.”

April gave her a quick hug and remained at the little table as Gracie shot out the front door and disappeared around the corner in search of a taxi. April pulled out her cell phone and dialed her family’s number in Sequim, puzzled to hear the voice mail message. She dialed the two cell phone numbers, but there was no answer on either one.

She sat in thought for a few seconds, then checked her PDA for a neighbor’s phone number and dialed it.

“I don’t know, dear,” the woman replied. “I think I saw them leaving a few hours ago, but I’m not sure.”

April folded the cell phone, feeling off balance. There were a hundred innocent explanations for Arlie and Rachel to be out of contact, including the one they had embarrassed her with too many times regarding the sanctity of their bedroom and the theory that unmuted telephones were effective contraceptives.

But for the first time in years, the thought brought no smile to her face. The strong feeling that something was very wrong persisted.

She got to her feet and headed for the door, almost missing the buzz of the phone’s vibrator and fumbling to open the device.

“Hello?”

“April? Jenny White, your parents’ neighbor?”

“Yes, Mrs. White.”

“I decided to come over here and have a look. April, I didn’t go in, but looking through the windows, the house is empty, your father’s car is gone, and… oh dear.”

“What?”

“You know how neat your mom keeps things? April, it almost looks like someone has ransacked the house. I think I’d better call the sheriff.”