Edge of Apocalypse (35 page)

"Okay, Abby. You get me two other commissioners to back me up, and I'll do it. I'll tell World Teleco they can't violate that contract for the AmeriNews service without serious consequences from the FCC. But I need at least two other commissioners so we've got a majority. Which means you'd better get hopping--"

"My lawyers are outside the commissioners' offices right now," Abigail said.

"You know Commissioner Winston won't support it," Daniels said. "Neither will Johnston, I don't think. Talk to Commissioner Susan Copple. She's worth a try. Commissioner Justin Lattig is almost certain to support me on this. Though I think he may be out of town. Giving a speech somewhere. You'll have to check with his office."

"We will."

"Now, I don't have to remind you that from this point on protocol says I can't discuss this with you any further. At least during the time I put this on official emergency circulation among the other commissioners."

"Understood."

"But hopefully we'll have an answer for you today."

Then as Abigail rose to leave, Daniels got up, shook her hand, and added one more thought. "My father was a Rabbi, as you probably know," Daniels said. "He used to quote the first century Jewish scholar Gamaliel: 'Secure a teacher for thyself.' I've gathered a few teachers for myself over the years. Abby, today you were one of them."

Abby was ecstatic. She rushed out of the chairman's office and with one hand sent a Quick Tweet to the Allfones of her other four lawyers, each of them perched outside an office belonging to one of the other four commissioners. It read: "Daniels is a go--secure support from two more commissioners."

All four lawyers simultaneously grabbed their briefcases and swept into the offices.

Even though he was in his office, Commissioner Winston refused to meet with the lawyer. Through his assistant he relayed that he had absolutely no interest in taking action against World Teleco.

In Commissioner Johnston's office, the lawyer was able to make a quick pitch to him personally. But the commissioner begged off diplomatically. "I won't support any immediate action on this," he said. "What I will do is consider joining in on a future Notice of Proposed Rule Making procedure perhaps in the months ahead. But only with a full hearing. Complete public notice. That sort of thing. But I'm not going to vote for a full-court press on that telecom company today under these conditions."

Commissioner Susan Copple had been slowed down in traffic on the Wilson Bridge coming into D.C. from Maryland. The lawyer assigned to her was able to get a cell phone call back from her within the hour.

Copple said she was philosophically in agreement with Chairman Daniels, but she had to discuss it with her legal staff before making any official decision. "Maybe sometime after lunch, we'll try to review this," she said.

As for Commissioner Justin Lattig, he was returning from a speech in Nashville. His plane was scheduled to touch down at 1:00 in the afternoon, but it had been delayed. His staff called him on his cell. Then they relayed a message to the lawyer from Lattig himself. "Tell Abigail Jordan that I will do nothing unless she and I discuss this personally. Face-to-face."

All of the lawyers reconvened together over a working lunch at the Monocle on D Street, just off Capitol Hill.

Abigail tried to be upbeat but the strain among the lawyers was palpable. The two additional votes had not been confirmed. Two Commissioners had already turned them down. Copple seemed a possibility. But Lattig was still out of reach.

"Look Abby," one of the men lawyers said. "This might be doable...maybe...but trying to crunch this into a deadline by end of business today...I mean, we're all seasoned FCC lawyers...but what you're asking is, well, probably impossible. Sorry. Just telling it the way it is."

"Nothing's impossible," Abigail snapped back. She took a deep breath and laid her menu down and looked around the table. "You're some of the best media lawyers in the nation. Every one of you. We can do this. I know it."

Abigail ordered a Cobb salad. But as the waitress was taking the rest of the orders, Abigail quietly added it all up in her head. She knew that in a few hours, unless World Teleco was reprimanded and AmeriNews was launched and the Capitol was swamped with angry callers, unless all of that happened and happened perfectly, the subpoena would not be withdrawn. And Judge Jenkins would end up signing an order that would turn her husband into a fugitive from the law.

At 1:00 in the afternoon the lawyers dispatched themselves to their appointed places. Two of them at Copple's office, two waiting in Lattig's office for the Commissioner to arrive from Reagan airport. Abigail stationed herself outside the chairman's office.

Then they waited. First one hour. Soon the clock on the commission wall was edging its way past 2:30.

The first to weigh-in was Commissioner Copple. After meeting with her legal staff, she called the two lawyers into her office to discuss it personally.

It was a thirty-minute session, with the commissioner's lawyers peppering Abigail's lawyers with questions, hypothetical "what ifs," and caveats, while the commissioner sat back and observed. What kind of precedent would this set? Shouldn't there be a full hearing before this kind of drastic action was taken? Did the FCC have the statutory authority in the first place? Was a single affidavit enough to face down a mammoth telecom giant? Finally, the commissioner herself was ready to speak.

"I'm inclined to support Chairman Daniels on this," Susan Copple said, "but only after I speak to the chairman myself. I still have some concerns."

That was good enough for Abigail's team. They messaged that to Abigail and the rest of the team.

By 3:00, one of the staffers of Commissioner Justin Lattig poked his head out into the lobby and addressed the two waiting lawyers. "Sorry," he said, "but Commissioner Lattig's plane just landed. He's so late that he won't be coming in at all today. He's on his way to another speech he has to make tonight in Winchester, Virginia, all the way over at the western edge of the state. I'm sorry about that."

The lawyers walked up to Abigail who was still outside the chairman's office and told her the bad news. But she wouldn't accept it.

"Did you tell Lattig's staffer how urgent this was?"

"We did, but we have no way of knowing if he ever told the commissioner."

Abigail raced up to Jacob Daniels' office and managed to get him to come out to the lobby for one final plea. "I told you, Abby, I can't discuss this any more with you--"

"Jacob, can't you at least call Commissioner Lattig and ask him to join us in a conference call from his limo?"

Daniels took a step closer to Abigail and whispered, "Already tried that. The guy's got his cell phone turned off." Then he reached out and squeezed her hand, said he was very sorry, and slowly returned to his inner office. Abigail grabbed her briefcase and stormed out of the building, down to the parking ramp to her rental car. Now all she could do was change her ticket to an earlier flight. Get home to Josh. Let him know she'd failed. And see whether by putting their heads together they could figure out some kind of Plan B. Even though she already knew there was no Plan B.

She was able to enter Interstate 66 from the government center of D.C. much more quickly than she would have guessed and was heading west. But she didn't have the heart to call Joshua. Not yet. How could she?
Lord, why did You bring me this close to a miracle...just to have everything collapse?

Tears were starting to come. Then the traffic slammed to a halt, both lanes.
Great. Now I'll be late to the airport. I'll be lucky to get a flight out tonight. This is a disaster...forgive me, God, but I am so utterly...

Then she noticed something off to her right, on an entrance ramp that fed onto the Interstate. A black limo. It slowed as the driver was obviously sizing-up the veritable parking lot of stopped traffic. But a truck about twenty cars ahead of Abigail managed to swing into the adjoining lane creating a gap. The limo driver sped quickly down the ramp trying to race into the space.

Abigail's eyes lingered on the long stretch limousine and noticed the government license plate. It read "FCCOM 2." Commissioner Lattig would have to be heading west on I-66 to get to his next meeting in the western corner of the state. She couldn't believe it. The black limo squeezed into the traffic lane amidst angry drivers and honking horns. The line of traffic was still stopped.

Think. Think,
she said to herself. The limo had a twenty-car lead ahead of her. Once the traffic finally opened up she would never be able to catch up.

Abigail swung her car sharply out of traffic and into the emergency lane on the right. Hit the button of the dash for the flashers, and put her car into park. She grabbed wildly at her briefcase, breaking a polished fingernail in the process, but finally laid hold of the folder containing the affidavit. She yanked it out and climbed out of the car and locked the door. Then something told her to do one more thing. She'd brought her gym bag with her, hoping to work out on the treadmill at her hotel.
Oh why not,
she muttered. She popped the trunk and took her high heals off, threw them into the trunk, and frantically tied on her running shoes.

But that was when the traffic suddenly started moving.

No! No!
she yelled out. A female driver in the car in the next lane eyed her as she started jogging down the freeway safety lane and shook her head as she slowly eased past.

With the file containing the affidavit in hand, she picked up her pace alongside of the line of snaking traffic, heading in the direction of the black government limo. She was now only twelve cars from the limo. But the traffic started moving a little faster, up to seven miles per hour. She pumped her arms and went into a bigger stride. The traffic jam was breaking up. They were now up to nine miles an hour. Then ten. Abigail was now into a full-speed run and sweat was beading up on her face. The limo was just two car lengths ahead. A male driver next to her yelled something at her, but all she could hear was the word "crazy" as she ran past him.

Help me, Lord!
She yelled out loud as she was tiring and couldn't close the two-car gap between herself and the limo cruising just beyond her reach. The traffic slowed just slightly. She kept running. As a tour bus up ahead slowly bullied its way from the right lane into the left, a bottleneck in traffic brought the traffic to another standstill. Abigail rushed up to the rear passenger window. Commissioner Lattig saw someone at his passenger side door and quickly slid over to the far side of the back seat with a startled look. She waved the file in front of the window. Then a look of slight recognition broke over his face. Lattig scooted over the seat and lowered the window half way down.

"Aren't you...," he started to say.

"Abigail Jordan, yes," she managed to say between gasping breaths.

"What in the world--"

"An emergency matter before the FCC."

Though traffic was still stopped, a car right behind them blasted its horn. Lattig ignored it.

"Oh," he said absently. "I wasn't told it was an emergency--"

"It is. We have two votes in our favor," she said breathlessly. "The chairman and, I think, Commissioner Copple. All we need is your vote...against World Teleco...it's an outrage, Mr. Commissioner...has to be done this afternoon. Here's the proof of deliberate viewpoint discrimination and censorship committed by World Teleco..." With that she stuffed the file containing the affidavit through the half-open window of the limo. Then she added, "Your staff said you demanded to see me in person. So here I am..."

"In person? Oh, that. Yes. But not about this case..."

"Then what?" Abigail blurted out almost in a shout.

"Well, to tell you something personal. About your husband." Lattig lowered the limo window down all the way. Lattig's face was fully in the open window of the limo. "I wanted you to know that I think your husband is a hero."

Abigail couldn't help herself; she started to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Now, about this case of yours," Lattig said. "Get in, get in. Let's talk." With that he swung the door open. She climbed in just as the traffic started moving again.

At 4:10 in the afternoon, after conferring personally with Commissioner Copple and talking on the phone with Commissioner Lattig from his limo, FCC Chairman Jacob Daniels wrote a note to himself in his daily journal. At the top was the date and time. The entry read:

On the World Teleco matter, concerning their denial of service over the Internet to AmeriNews...

Then he lifted his pen off the paper for a moment. He was considering the outcome. And all that might follow. Then he finished his note.

After consulting with Commissioners KC and JL, I have made my decision. I will so order World Teleco to honor their contract with AmeriNews. Commissioners KC and JL concurred, making it a majority vote.

At 4:16, Chairman Daniels had a phone call with Bill Cheavers, executive vice president for the North American Division of World Teleco. It was not a pleasant call.

Cheavers threatened the chairman with leading a "conspiracy to drive World Teleco out of business." Daniels calmly replied that he had no such intent. "Unless, of course," Daniels continued, "you violate our cease-and-desist order and fail to honor your service contract with AmeriNews. In which case we will revoke the authority of your company to do telecommunications in America, which you and I both know I have the power to do--and I have the votes."

"I'll appeal," snarled Cheavers. "You'll lose. You'll look stupid. Then the president will finally get around to yanking you off the FCC."

"All that may be true," Daniels said. "But not until Wall Street and NASDAQ react to your corporation being suspended from doing business. I wonder what the record is for the fastest, deepest drop for the stock of any American Corporation. You folks at World Teleco might just break the record."

At 4:31 p.m., on the order of World Teleco executive Bill Cheavers, AmeriNews was launched to half of the Allfones in America. The headline read: