Balance of Power полностью

    At least, Hampton went on, these labors have their compensations. Last year, the Sons of the Second Amendment were the second largest donor to the party of the majority—a fitting reward for such idealism. But merely a down payment, I am sure, on the money which would follow the success of their mission here today.

    "He's going for broke," Kerry murmured to his wife. "No one could ask for more."

* * *

    Feeling the sting of Hampton's words, Fasano lost all hope that the bitterness of this debate, or the subject of his alliance with the SSA, could in any way be muted. Maintaining his air of calm, he added a note to the text of his response.

    Hampton continued, "It is we who let Lexington sell this gun—and those bullets—without a background check. That is our disgrace. Why add to it now?"

* * *

    Pausing, Hampton glanced at Cassie Rollins, prim and composed at her desk near the back of the chamber, and then, closer, Vic Coletti. "And yet," Hampton told them, "the worst disgrace of all is near at hand. For this bill would not merely end all future suits, but wipe out all current ones, no matter how close to trial.

    "None of us here are innocents. We know precisely what—and whom—this very special interest provision is aimed at. And we can only marvel at the hypocrisy of its proponents."

    Cassie Rollins, Hampton saw, had fixed him with an unwavering, but unhappy, gaze. Perhaps he would not change her vote—or any vote. But he would know that he had done all he could. "More than unfair," Hampton continued, "it is unconstitutional. And worse."

* * *

Watching, Kerry was moved.

    On the screen, the senior senator from Vermont stood straighter, eyes sweeping his silent colleagues. Like millions of Americans, he told them, I value guns designed for sportsmanship, not slaughter. But America has become the world's shooting gallery. God help us if we pour gasoline on the fire of gun violence.

    This body is supposed to save lives. But in the area of guns, we have contributed our bit to the taking of lives. Pausing for a final time, Hampton finished quietly, Truly, there is blood on our hands. It is long past time that we begin to wipe it off.

    Lara felt a constriction in her throat. "It's probably just a phase," she managed to tell her husband. "But I think I'm in love with Chuck."

    "When I call him with our thanks," Kerry answered, "I'll mention that."

* * *

    As Hampton sat, the gallery burst into applause. Grimly smiling, the Vice President took her time before gaveling it down, and then Frank Fasano rose to answer.

    "The Chair," Ellen Penn declared, "recognizes the senior senator from Pennsylvania."

    Though outwardly unfazed, Fasano paused to calm his nerves and collect his thoughts. His role in this drama was difficult: to tamp down the emotion aroused by the Minority Leader, and to provide his colleagues with a rationale—principled and reasoned—which would make them other than instruments of the SSA.

    After a brief obeisance to Vice President Penn, the usual flurry of courtesies, Fasano promptly set about his task. "My distinguished friend, the senior senator from Vermont, need not have told us that he once was a trial lawyer. For he has gifts which would stir a jury, and must surely impress us all. Including a rare ability to infuse his point of view with passion and conviction.

    "But it is, after all, only that—a point of view. There are others. So let us begin by rejecting the easy notion that one point of view is uniquely good, and that another is a matter of cynical self-interest. Because, in candor, it requires great courage for members of this body to oppose with simple reason the tsunami of emotion unleashed by my gifted colleague.

    "But we must."

    With this sudden, emphatic statement, Fasano saw, he had seized the close attention of his colleagues—most particularly Cassie Rollins. "We must," he repeated more quietly. "Because ensuring the quality of our justice system requires more from us than a blind deference to the passions of the moment—however heartfelt those passions may be."

* * *

Watching, Kerry tried to detach himself. "He's doing what he has to do," he observed to Lara. "He always does. What I've honestly never known is whether Fasano has a soul."

"If he did," Lara remarked with quiet bitterness, "wouldn't you know by now?"

* * *