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Authors: Ralph Reed

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“I'd kick that can down the road,” said Greenglass. “They still have to go to a conference committee. The House bill has the trigger language. There's a chance we can save it in conference. We don't need to make a declaratory statement yet.”

“That's Stanley's game,” said Jay. “He's telling his guys to vote ‘no' because they can still yield to the House and then vote for the conference report.”

“Where are the profiles in courage?” asked Long in frustration.

“I'm not sure we can hide behind the skirts of the conference committee,” Lisa offered. “The press will still want to know: if the conference report doesn't include the trigger mechanism, will the president sign or veto the final bill.”

Everyone turned to Long. “It's not an easy call,” said the president, his voice falling to a near whisper. “If I go to the EU meeting empty-handed, it'll be played as an embarrassing defeat, and it'll hurt us with Germany and Spain. If I sign it without the trigger, I look weak.”

“The U.S. has to show leadership, or the Europeans will use it as an excuse to tread water,” said Hector. “They don't want to act, and America's failure is exactly what the nervous nellies want as an excuse to do nothing.”

“This is like Reagan at Reykjavik,” said Greenglass. “Sometimes you have to reject a bad deal to get a good one. People said Reagan failed. So what? Had he taken Gorbachev's deal at Reykjavik, the Berlin wall probably would have never come down.”

Long nodded, deep in thought, not yet showing his hand. “Keep me posted,” he said. “I'll be in the living quarters. Let me know if I need to talk to any senator.” He paused. “Don't worry about how late.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hector.

Long walked out of the room. As he passed through the door, two Secret Service agents slid beside him. Everyone headed back to their offices. It was going to be a long night, and no one knew what would happen.

IN THE PRIME MINISTER'S OFFICE in the heavily fortified Knesset building in Jerusalem, Hannah Shoval huddled with her national security team, a motley crew of Likud careerists, retired army officers, and Israeli army veterans. She sat behind her desk, a small display of an Israeli and a U.S. flag with their poles crossed behind her, a gift from an American Zionist group. All eyes were glued to the television, watching the Senate debate.

“Tom Reynolds may be a gadfly, but he's got kahunas,” said Shoval approvingly.

“That he does,” offered one of her advisors.

“If Reynolds's amendment loses, we're in the hot seat,” said the minister of defense, a retired army general. “At that point we're down to the least bad option.”

Shoval shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Shoval's communications director, a wiry man with gray, closely cropped hair and intense eyes, came into the room. He had been working the phones to the States. “My contacts at the embassy and on the Hill tell me the vote on the trigger amendment is too close to call, but their best guess is we come up one or two votes short.”

“Well, gentlemen, we won't be able to count on the United States,” said Shoval. She let out a long sigh. “Israel will have to go it alone.”

“What if Long vetoes it?” asked an advisor.

Shoval shrugged. “I hope he does.” Her face hardened, its fine, feminine features turning brittle. “This is no time for half measures. We need courage and moral clarity from the West.”

“I guess we're about to find out what Bob Long is made of, aren't we?” asked the minister of defense.

“We're about to find out a lot more than that,” replied Shoval.

“Like what?” asked the communications director.

“Like whether Israel survives.”

Her statement landed like a howitzer round among her national security advisors. The thought of Israel acting alone militarily against Iran was a prospect so unsavory they were all reluctant to contemplate it. But if the U.S. sanctions legislation failed to authorize force if necessary, there would likely be no other option.

LEAVING THE OVAL, JAY HEADED down the hall to his own office. Suddenly he saw David Thomas barreling down the corridor, holding a piece of paper in his hands, eyes wide, looking agitated. They nearly ran into each other.

“What is it?” asked Jay.

“I just got off the phone with AP in Florida,” said Thomas, his voice high-pitched. “Dolph Lightfoot is announcing he's leaving the Republican Party and is running as an independent.”

Jay shook his head and laughed. “So I guess he'd rather switch parties than lose the primary to Jefferson. Ask him how well that worked for Charlie Crist.”

“It gets even better,” said Thomas. “He's allowing his name to be placed on the Democratic primary ballot as well.”

“This guy cross-dresses more than a drag queen on Halloween,” exclaimed Jay. “I don't think there's any chance it works, do you?”

“I don't know,” replied Thomas. “If Stanley can get the Democrats in Florida to back down, it's possible Lightfoot could be the Democratic nominee. If he's elected, he would caucus with the Democrats, and then Stanley holds the majority even if we pick up California. Think about it. Who else do the Democrats have in Florida who can beat Jefferson?”

“No one,” said Jay. “Get on the phone with Jefferson. Tell him he needs to drop a bomb on Lightfoot. Accuse him of flip-flopping. Have people show up at his rallies smacking flip-flops together.”

“There is one good thing about all this,” said Thomas, eyes dancing.

“What's that?”

“Now Birch is going to have to support Jefferson for U.S. Senate.”

Jay burst out laughing. “That really is rich.” He paused, his brain in overdrive. “We gotta win this one. Especially now. It's a two-fer. We take out Stanley and Birch with one bullet.”

Thomas nodded and hurriedly headed back down the hall. They had a lot of work to do.

23

T
he so-called “trigger” amendment offered by Tom Reynolds to the Iran sanctions bill failed by two votes in a virtual party-line vote, as expected. Sal Stanley foiled Long again, or so it seemed. But the White House had one final card to play, and it wasted no time doing so. The morning after the Senate defeated Reynolds's amendment, the Executive Office of the President posted a “Statement of Administration Policy” on the White House Web site, which landed like a grenade on Capitol Hill.

The legislative affairs office e-mailed the statement to the press and every Senate and House office. It read in part:

Statement of Administration Policy

S.R. 6, The Comprehensive Iran Sanctions and Human Rights Act

(Sen. Susan Warren (D-NV) and 59 cosponsors)

The Administration strongly opposes Senate passage of S.R. 6, the Comprehensive Iran Sanctions and Human Rights Act, in its current form. The resolution imposes sanctions on Iran's energy, banking, financial, and import-export industries and, among other prohibitions, would bar any U.S. company, or any foreign entity doing business with a U.S. company, from importing refined petroleum products into Iran. It also would sanction leading human rights abusers in Iran, including business entities associated with the Revolutionary Guard. However, unlike the House version of this legislation, the resolution does not include a provision directing the Director of National Intelligence and the National Security Council to report to the Administration and Congress within 180 days of final passage on the efficacy of sanctions in preventing Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons. For this reason, if S.R. 6 is presented to the president in its current form, he would veto the bill.

The president strongly supports the sanctions contained in both the House and Senate versions of the legislation. However, by excluding the requirement of an assessment of the efficacy of sanctions and authorizing additional necessary measures, S.R. 6 fails to find the proper balance and will fail to stop Iran's pursuit of nuclear weapons. The president urges Congress to pass the House version of the Iran sanctions legislation.

LONG WAS SCHEDULED TO DEPART for the European Union conference just six days hence. His secretary of state urged him to accept the sanctions bill to keep the heat on the Europeans to cut their extensive commercial ties with Iran. But she lost the bureaucratic infighting battle with Truman Greenglass, who advised Long (and this was consistent with his own instincts) that he simply could not compromise on a nuclear Iran. His back against the wall, Long was doubling down.

Sal Stanley, enraged by Long's move, wisely (some said uncharacteristically) chose not to rise to the bait. Instead he dispatched Sue Warren to the Senate floor to offer the Democratic rebuttal to the administration.

She did not disappoint. Warren strode onto the floor a mere thirty minutes after the White House issued its veto statement. Her once luminous hair had faded to dirty blonde with age, her svelte figure now padded around her middle, her shoulders rounded. As she clipped the microphone on her St. John suit, her lips formed into a thin line of lipstick.

“Mr. President, the administration has issued a Statement of Administration Policy which I find deeply troubling,” she began, pivoting from her hips to make eye contact with her colleagues. “On a bipartisan basis, this chamber is unanimous in its conviction that Iran must not be allowed to possess nuclear weapons. Intelligence reports indicate it either has done so in a primitive form or is on the threshold of doing so.” She held her hands in front of her body, her fingers touching as though she were addressing a jury. “Time is of the essence. We must act . . .
now.
But the administration has now apparently decided to make what I believe is one of the most important national security challenges of our time a partisan issue.”

She paused, measuring her words. “The president's statement is an exhibit in cognitive dissonance. It claims the administration supports the sanctions contained in this legislation, including its promotion of human rights and its support of the pro-democracy movement in Iran.” She wheeled around to face the presiding officer, cocking her head in disbelief. “Yet if he vetoes this legislation, the president will delay the implementation of the very sanctions he advocates, undercut his ability to persuade the members of the European Union to adopt a similar course, and strengthen the hand of the current regime in Iran.”

Tom Reynolds had wandered onto the floor since Warren began her speech. He sought recognition. “Will the senator yield?” he asked.

Warren spun on her heel, eyes aflame. “I will
not
,” she said, biting off the words. “I know the senator from Oklahoma shares the president's view that there should be a trigger mechanism authorizing military action in the event sanctions fail to stop Iran's pursuit of nuclear weapons. But war resolutions and economic sanctions legislation mix like oil and water. They have never been included in the same bill, and they should not be combined in the same bill now.”

Democratic senators faces lit up. Warren had moxie, unafraid to take on a sitting president on the eve of a major trip abroad. Republicans glowered.

“This is no time for us to send conflicting signals to Iran,” said Warren. “America should speak with one voice. That is why I urge the president to reconsider this veto threat. Does he really want to go to Rome next week empty-handed?” She threw up her hands and arched her eyebrows. “As the lead Senate conferee with our counterparts from the House, I intend to defend the Senate's position vigorously. I continue to hope we can pass a bipartisan bill of crippling sanctions the president will sign. But if he does not”—she wagged her finger in the air for emphasis—“then his administration will have to accept the consequences for the inaction and delay that will result. And if Iran obtains a workable nuclear weapon as a consequence, it will have taken place on this president's watch, and he will bear the responsibility for that outcome.”

Jaws dropped on the Republican side of the aisle. What had gotten into Sue Warren? they wondered. Warren, her face brittle, chin raised, unclipped the microphone and walked briskly up the aisle, trailed by an aide with his head down, leaving the chamber. The Democratic senators rose to their feet in applause. The battle was joined.

As the debate over military action against Iran raged on Capitol Hill, a different drama unfolded at the National Press Club, just a few blocks from the White House. Pat Mahoney's dogged investigation of Perry Miller's murder led to the arrest of Hassan Qatani and the rolling up of terrorist cells connected to Rassem el Zafarshan up and down the Eastern seaboard, from Baltimore to New York City. Meanwhile, the more mundane criminal investigation of the dominatrix service where Miller died proceeded largely unheralded. All that changed when Jillian Ann Singer, the forty-two-year-old founder of Adult Alternatives, stepped to the podium at a news conference to discuss her possible arrest on federal prostitution, sex trafficking, money laundering, and tax evasion charges. If the purpose was to make news, she dropped a bombshell.

A fount of blonde hair fell over her shoulders, chiseled by years in the gym, an occupational hazard of one who took her clothes off in front of cameras. The former porn star wore a conservative green dress with a high collar, her striking blue eyes, and shapely figure suggesting the vanishing beauty of the
Playboy
centerfold she once was. The effects of plastic surgery and age, and the dark circles under her eyes, were only partially masked by heavy makeup caked on her puffy face. The deep lines in her face and neck bespoke a life of wrong choices and bad luck. Her attorney, a feminist-activist/ambulance-chasing celebrity lawyer who regularly haunted the crime chat shows on cable, stood to her side, jet-black hair sprayed into a bouffant, mauve eye shadow matching her designer wool dress, looking as if she had just stepped out of a beauty parlor.

BOOK: Ballots and Blood
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