Capitol Threat

55

“Judge Haskins!”

Several stray members of the White House press corps caught sight of him as he crossed from the West Wing to the driveway where his ride was waiting. He was nattily attired in a navy blue suit, both buttons buttoned, and a dynamic red tie. His hair was freshly cut and appeared to be sprayed into place. When the bright lights of the minicams switched on, a faint trace of base makeup was discernible at the ridge of his jaw.

He paused, as if thinking about whether he really wanted to deal with the press, then let out a small sigh and turned to face them.

“Have you been talking with the President?”

Haskins dipped his head slightly. “I have had that pleasure, yes.”

“Then it’s confirmed. After the Senate rejects Thaddeus Roush, President Blake is going to nominate you.”

He held up his hands. “I don’t want to presume to know the mind of the Senate.”

“You must be aware that Roush lacks the votes to be confirmed,” the brunette representing CBS said. “After he’s out of the running, the President will want to put someone up fast. While he still can.”

“If Judge Roush’s nomination fails, it is my understanding that the President wishes to move forward with all deliberate speed.”

The AP stringer tried to cut past the polite gobbledygook. “He’s going to nominate you, isn’t he?”

Haskins gave them a gosh, shucks shrug worthy of Ronald Reagan.

“I have three unnamed sources who say you’re going to be the pick,” the CBS woman added, egging him on. “The President would be crazy not to choose you. How could the Senate reject a national hero?”

Haskins held up his hands. “Look, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I bear no animosity whatsoever toward Judge Roush. He is a fine man, a fine jurist, and he would undoubtedly be a fine member of the Supreme Court. I have no desire to take that away from him.”

“But if the Senate does reject him?” the AP stringer asked.

“As it will,” the CBS representative added.

Haskins tilted his head to one side. “In that unfortunate instance, I would of course consider accepting any nomination, were I so honored as to be selected.”

“And the President has in fact already selected you, hasn’t he? It’s a done deal.”

“Again, I don’t want to presume to know the minds of others. Especially not the leader of the free world.”

A new reporter pushed to the front, a short, wiry man whose age was demonstrated not so much by his balding head as the fact that he was actually using a pad and paper. “Judge Haskins, this is a matter of great national importance. You’ve met with the President for three consecutive days. We know he’s had his people running background checks on you. We know his staff has pored over every opinion you’ve written in your time on the Tenth Circuit. And today, you’ve been closeted with him for more than two hours, which is the functional equivalent of spending a week with anyone else on earth. The people have a right to know—are you going to be the next nominee for the Supreme Court?”

Haskins sighed, as if overwhelmed by the force of the questioning. “It is my understanding that…in the event that Judge Roush’s nomination should fail…the President has indicated that I have his support.”

A dozen cell phones flipped open. The press corps’ fingers raced to be the first to phone the story home.

“In fact,” Haskins continued, “the President has asked me to be present in the gallery of the Senate when the vote on the Roush nomination is taken so that, if the nomination is rejected, he can immediately present his replacement.”

The reporters chatted all at once into their cells, making it pointless for Haskins to continue. He turned toward the limo that had pulled up behind him while he was speaking.

“Congratulations,” the limo driver said, as he opened the rear door.

“Let’s not be premature. Even if Judge Roush is rejected, there’s no guarantee they won’t reject me, too.”

“Reject the man who saved a baby from a burning building? I don’t think so.” He stood erect and saluted. “I think I have the very great privilege of chauffeuring the next member of the Supreme Court of the United States.”

“Well,” Haskins said, smiling shyly, with a tiny twinkle in his eye, “I just hope you’re right.”