The Rule of Nine

The Rule Of Nine



One

Jimmie Snyder was twenty-three, tall and lanky. He had been in

his current job less than two months and he was scared. He knew he had screwed up. He lay awake at nights worrying about it, as if under Chinese water torture, waiting for the next drip to hit him on the forehead. It was all about expectations, mostly his father’s. Snyder’s dad was the managing partner in a large law firm in Chicago. Jimmie had graduated pre-law from Stanford a year earlier and his father wanted him to go to law school. But Jimmie wanted to go into film production. His father would have none of it. As far as the old man was concerned, Jimmie needed credentials to round out his law school application and beef up his less-than-stellar undergraduate grades and middling LSAT score.

Toward that end, his father pulled every string within reach to land the boy a job in Washington. The best he could do on short notice was a temporary position as a part-time guide. The job was a holding pattern until his dad could yank more levers and land something better. It took him three months and a hefty contribution to a senator in Alabama but he found a spot for Jimmie as a staff gofer with one of the many Senate subcommittees. This particular panel was charged with overseeing sensitive matters of intelligence. As it turned out, the nature of the assignment now made the situation even worse for his son.

It might take a while for the details to trickle back, to filter from one branch to the other, but Jimmie knew he would be called on the carpet sooner or later and asked to explain how he could have done something so stupid. How could he have allowed some middle-aged lawyer from California, wearing a polo shirt and shorts, to talk his way backstage, past all the locked doors and the phalanx of security into the private sanctum off-limits to all but the gods of government? What in an earlier decade might have been a minor transgression, in the age of terror had become

grounds for job termination and possible criminal prosecution.

Jimmie had spent a week of sleepless nights trying to conjure

up some plausible explanation for why he had done it. Call it bad

judgment. Maybe it was because he was angry and bored. He hated

the job and the fact that his father had manipulated him into taking

it. It was that, but also the fact that the man he met that day was so easy to talk to. Unlike Snyder’s father, the guy was affable, approachable, and interested. He listened to everything Jimmie had to say. When Jimmie told him he really didn’t want to pursue a career in law, the lawyer, a perfect stranger, gave him absolution. He told Jimmie that the first rule of success in life was to follow your dreams. And then to find out that the guy was a Stanford law alum on vacation, how could Jimmie say no?

From the book THE RULE OF NINE: A Paul Madriani Novel by Steve Martini. Copyright © 2010 by Paul Madriani, Inc. Reprinted by permission of William Morrow, an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.