Political Science 101

Chapter Eighteen

JEB LARKIN knew just how much he and Lenore Sable had riding on their ability to influence votes in Congress. They'd pocketed numerous congressmen and senators over the years and profited heavily as a result. But now, what in the past was a sure vote from United States Representative Arnold Jenkins was beginning to waiver. Larkin had known Jenkins through various dealings in the natural gas industry prior to his election to Congress, so Lenore was leaving it up to Jeb to get Jenkins (and his votes) in line. And although he and Lenore both stood to profit or lose at the hands of Jenkins' vote (which was all-too-often a deciding swing-vote on several issues), Jeb knew that in the hierarchy of it all, Lenore was one rung above him and he needed to follow her "advice."

He sat quietly in the back seat of a limousine, smoking an expensive cigar and and sipping an even more expensive glass of brandy. Jeb sat patiently in the limo with the automatic barrier between himself and the driver raised for privacy, staring out the window at the chilly Washington DC evening. However, his patience was shortening as he awaited the emergence of Arnold Jenkins from his downtown DC apartment. The door to the apartment, sheltered by a dark-green canopy, struck Jeb as a bit ridiculous in appearance, like something one would expect to find in New Orleans in the heart of Bourbon Street.

The thick orange door swung open to the outside (which Jeb also found odd about this building) and Arnold Jenkins stepped out into the cluttered flow of downtown Washington DC. He strode rapidly through the chilling February wind and hurriedly joined Larkin in the limousine.

"Shall Ms. Sable be joining us this evening?" Larkin asked with subtle formality.

Jeb, rolling his eyes at Jenkin's failed attempt at propriety, spoke sharply. "You know damn-good-and-well I've been sent here by her." His words carried a the edge of a razor and the delicacy of a sumo wrestler. "So listen closely," he said, "because we need to talk about the pipeline vote." He paused, waiting for Jenkin's inner glossary to page through his mind to this particular topic. "The way you've been talking to the press," Jeb continued, "no one knows how the hell you're going to vote on this!" His voice was growing steadily louder as his own words stirred within him a cacophony of frustration, anxiety, and fear. "Look," he said, taking a breath in a failed attempt to calm himself, "this pipeline is big money for our interests. Big money. And you know this."

Congressman Jenkins sighed deeply. This was a conversation he'd been expecting - and dreading - for quite some time. He sat silently for a moment, gazing out the window at nothing in particular.

The vote to which Jeb Larkin was referring, this "pipeline vote" as he called it, was a major piece of legislation which would permit the building of a massive natural gas pipeline from the rich reserves of Alaska, through Canada, and would essentially bisect the continental United States, running through the middle of both Dakotas, then into Iowa (because the Nebraska legislators could not be "persuaded"), then through western Missouri, central Arkansas, eastern Louisiana, all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico. And Jenkins knew he'd pledged his support for the bill, and had supported it thus-far.

However, a recent slight change to the plans altered the route of the pipeline. Originally, the pipeline's Missouri path was going to run parallel to the Kansas/Missouri border in Missouri. New plans indicated that the Missouri section of the pipeline would now be channeled several hundred miles to the east, uprooting a large section of Missouri's Ozark region. And ever since this alteration, Jenkins' office had received over 300 daily calls, letters were piling-up, and protesters were picketing outside the Missouri State Capitol Building with signs saying, "Vote NO! Save the Ozarks!" So now, Jenkins was in a tough spot. He could vote Yes and appease the powers that funded his election (and re-election) campaign, or vote No and appease his constituency. Either way, this vote carried huge implications for his future; his job as a United States Congressman likely depended on it, but Jenkins thought it was a lose-lose situation for him.

"Listen," Jenkins said, pausing to make eye-contact with Jeb, "I have it on a very dependable word that this vote will be delayed anyway. They changed the project plans and that changed the ballgame." He searched Jeb's expression for signs of him relaxing, but found none. "The thing is," he continued, "I know that you and Ms. Sable have a lot of money tied up in this, but--"

"A lot of money?" Jeb snapped, interrupting the calm demeanor of the Congressman. "You think this is only about money? There are three different companies on this contract. I hold stock in all three and Lenore is the majority stockholder in two of them. And this will create thousands of jobs." He took a breath, shaking his head. "This is about more than just money," he said in a calmer voice, "this is about people and jobs too." Jeb was now trying to appeal to Jenkins' humanity, though it was merely an empty gesture. Jeb really didn't care about people, but he knew Jenkins did. "This deal," he said, "had been the works for five years, and--"

"I'm aware of th—" Jenkins interjected.

"You're aware of shit!" Jeb snapped, interrupting the interruption and showing clear anger; Jeb's demeanor indicated to Jenkins that any further interruption from the Congressman would be ill-advised. "Bottom line," Jeb continued trying to harness his anger, "if you're not with us on this, then we will be forced to make other considerations and arrangements. Jeb sat back, suddenly confident and calm. He took a melodramatic sip from his expensive glass of brandy.

"Is that a threat?" Jenkins was growing visibly agitated, but his sudden change in demeanor made no noticeable difference to Jeb. "I am a United States Congressman, you son of a bitch."

"And you're welcome for that, by the way," Jenkins smugly interjected, reminding Jenkins who was mostly responsible for his election victories.

"No one threatens me," Jenkins replied in a low and forceful voice.

"I'm not threatening you," Jeb said arrogantly and in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm just giving you a heads-up." He looked down at his drink, lightly swinging the glass and swirling the ice into a tiny slow funnel. "That is all I have for you," he said without looking up.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Congressman Jenkins." The way Jeb said Congressman made it sound like an insult.

United States Congressman Arnold Jenkins quickly exited the limousine and hailed a taxi. A brisk yellow cab quickly stopped for him and he got in, looking back at the limousine but unable to see through the darkly-tinted windows. Deep down, he knew his life had just gotten significantly more interesting. And in Washington DC, interesting is never a good thing.