Chapter 24 - The Gates of the Republic
The marble facade of the Russell Senate Office Building looked like a Greek temple that had been dipped in ice water and coated in political grease. Tourists in heavy winter parkas milled around the base of the grand staircase, snapping photos of the Corinthian columns while Capitol Police officers in dark wool uniforms watched them with the weary, practiced vigilance of men who spent their days separating tourists from lobbyists.
I parked the station wagon in a municipal lot three blocks away—too far for the security guards to tag us as suspicious, and close enough for a brisk walk through the slush.
Benjamin, Clara, Leo, and Grace walked beside me in a tight, disciplined cluster, their brand-new navy blue coats buttoned to their chins, their small hands gloved in matching wool. They looked less like children on a holiday outing and more like a four-person honor guard being led into enemy territory by a sergeant who had forgotten how to smile.
"Mom, are we going to see the man who lives in the big grey house?" Benjamin asked, his breath pluming in white clouds against the freezing air as we climbed the massive granite steps toward the center entrance.
"We're going to see some very important men, Benjamin," I said, my gloved hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "And when we get inside, you don't need to salute. Just stay close to your sister and let me do the talking."
"Can I show them my driftwood anchor?" Grace asked brightly, clutching a small, plastic-wrapped parcel of wood in her mitten like it was the Crown Jewels.
"Only if they ask," I replied.
The security checkpoint inside the north entrance was a bottleneck of gray plastic bins, humming metal detectors, and harried congressional aides juggling leather briefcases and oversized lattes. A tall, broad-shouldered Capitol Police officer with silver hair and three rows of ribbons on his service uniform stepped forward as we approached the belt, his eyes dropping automatically from my face to the four children standing in a row before him.
"Ma'am, public gallery access for the Vance confirmation hearing is currently at maximum capacity," the officer said, his voice flat and professional, though his eyes softened slightly as they landed on Leo’s bright, wide-open gaze. "Unless you're holding a congressional pass or a designated witness badge, you'll have to view the proceedings from the overflow monitor in the basement briefing room."
I reached into the leather briefcase, pulled out a heavy, cream-colored envelope bearing the embossed seal of the Secretary of the Navy's joint oversight committee, and handed it across the metal detector belt without breaking stride.
The officer took the envelope, his thumb brushing against the heavy wax seal. He pulled out the single sheet of stiff parchment inside, scanned the first two lines, and then looked up sharply, his professional mask slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of pure, unadulterated astonishment.
"Captain Vance?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he read the name printed in crisp black typography at the top of the commission. "The registry listed you as—"
"Inactive," I supplied smoothly, my voice cutting through the hum of the metal detectors like a signal flare. "And currently reporting for duty as a designated observer for the joint naval logistics committee. These four are my staff."
The officer looked down at the children, then back at me, his eyes lingering on the gold lapel pin I had pinned to the left lapel of my wool coat—a small, silver anchor entwined with a naval transport star that hadn't been worn in public since the Carter administration.
For three long seconds, the security gate seemed to hold its breath. Then, the officer squared his shoulders, snapped a crisp, textbook salute, and reached out to press the manual override button on the electronic turnstile.
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"Right this way, Captain," he said, his voice ringing loud and clear across the lobby. "Elevator three is reserved for committee principals. Take it to the third floor, suite 328. And... welcome back to Washington."
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