Still clutching his stomach, Jack's voice was tortured at best when he said, "Look, if you have a better way, let's hear it. Last night you drew a blank. I'm not saying this is a perfect caper, but I can't think of anything else. If you think for one minute this isn't killing me, you're wrong. I love Bert like a brother, the same way I love you, Harry."

This was Jack's apology and, just as Jack had done, Harry accepted it.

Wincing, Jack slapped his buddy on his back before he headed for the door. "So, I can go off knowing you're going to take care of matters?"

"Yeah, Jack, I got it covered. Don't be late for our trip up to the mountain. You want the tea to go?"

Jack sucked in a deep breath. "No, but thanks for the offer. I'll be on time. See ya, Superman."

Outside, Jack looked to the left, then to the right. After debating a whole minute about whether he should jog to the courthouse or hail a taxi, he limped to the curb and hailed a cab. The moment he buckled up, his cell phone rang. He hissed a greeting. Maggie Spritzer. He listened.

"I just left Harry. He's got it under control. How are things on your end?" He listened again.

"Yeah, okay, we're good to go. I'll see you this afternoon for our ride to the mountain. Charles said he didn't want a paper trail, and there will be one if you fly. Jesus, Maggie, if this doesn't work, Bert is screwed." He listened again. He rolled his eyes. Maggie counseling him. What was wrong with this picture?

Jack leaned back and closed his eyes. He hated what he was being forced to do and at best it probably wasn't going to work, but he had to do something. Only three days to ensure that the Senate backed Bert.

The cab pulled to the curb. "Ten bucks, buddy."

Jack pulled some bills out of his pocket and sprinted across the pavilion to the massive front doors that would take him to his office. Everything had to be routine. Now he had to head for the coffee shop to get a bagel and coffee that he would carry outside to the back of the building, where he could smoke as he drank his coffee. He always ate the bagel on the elevator. The same people he rode up with every day would say he was right on schedule. If anyone had even asked, that is. The smokers would be gathered outside, alongside a tub filled with sand. Ordinary. Nothing different. Business as usual.

Jack's thoughts were all over the map as he stood in line for his bagel and coffee, kibitzing and making small talk with colleagues. I'm pulling this off, I really am. An MRI of his stomach would have said otherwise.