The Zero Game

“What a punchline, huh?” Barry asks. “I almost fell over when they first told me. Can you imagine – all this time spent looking at coworkers, trying to figure out who else is placing bets, and the only people actually playing the game are you and Matthew?”

“Two minutes,” the guard behind Barry a

“It’s brilliant when you think about it,” Barry adds. “Pasternak talks it up; you believe him because you trust him… then they send in a few pages, fill out some taxi receipts, and you guys think you’re in on the biggest secret Capitol Hill has to offer. It’s like those flight simulator rides at Disney World, where they show the movie on-screen and shake your car a bit – you think you’re flying up and down a roller coaster, but you really haven’t moved an inch.”

I force a laugh, my body still frozen.

“Man, just the thought of it,” Barry adds, his voice picking up steam. “Dozens of staffers placing bets on unimportant legislation without anyone knowing? Please, what a dream – like anyone here could even keep their mouth shut for longer than ten seconds,” he teases. “Gotta give Pasternak his credit, though. You thought you were playing a great joke on the system, and the entire time, he’s playing the joke on you.”

“Yeah… no… it’s definitely amazing.”

“It was humming like clockwork, too – until everything with Matthew. Once that happened, Pasternak wanted out. I mean, he may’ve signed up to convince you – that’s part of any lobbyist’s job – but he didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“That’s… That’s not what I heard,” I bluff.

“Then you heard wrong. The only reason he put this together was for the exact same reason anyone does anything in this town: Ever have a small country for a client? Small countries bring in small fortunes, which small businesses are in desperate need of – especially when billings are down thirty-six percent this year alone. After the first year of failing to get the gold mine transferred, Pasternak eventually decided to go with the more inventive backdoor. Say hello to the Game – the most harmless way ever to sneak an earmark into a bill. But then Matthew got curious, and Janos came in, and, well… that’s when the train jackknifed off the tracks…”

The guard looks over at us.

We’re almost out of time, but Barry doesn’t show the slightest sign of slowing down. After all this time in jail, he’s finally having fun.

“You gotta love the name, too – the Zero Game – so melodramatic. But it is true: In any equation, when you multiply by zero, you always wind up with nothing, right?”

I nod, dumbfounded.

“So who told you anyway?” he asks. “FBI, or did you figure it out yourself?”

“No… myself. I… uh… I got it myself.”

“Good for you, Harris. Good man.”

Stuck in my seat, I just sit there, looking at him. It’s like finding out a year of your life has been a staged production number. And I’m the only putz still in costume.

“Time,” the guard says.

Barry keeps talking. “I’m so glad you-”

“I said, Time,” the guard interrupts. He pulls the receiver from Barry’s ear, but I still hear his final thought.

“I knew you’d appreciate it, Harris! I knew it! Even Pasternak would be happy for that-!”

There’s a loud click in my ear as the guard slaps the phone in its cradle. He pinches the back of Barry’s neck and yanks him from his seat. Stumbling across the room, Barry heads back to the steel door.

But as I sit alone at the glass partition, staring through to the other side, there’s no question Barry has it right. Pasternak said it the first day he hired me. It’s the first rule of politics: The only time you get hurt is when you forget it’s all a game.

Acknowledgments

THERE’S ONE NAME on the cover of this book, but I’ve always maintained it takes far more than that to transform an imagined idea into reality. For that reason, I’d like to thank the following people: always first, my love Cori. To paraphrase someone far smarter than myself: The words aren’t real until Cori reads them. She’s always been my first editor and adviser, but for this book, in her real-world position as a lawyer in Congress, she was also my eyes and ears into the complex world of Capitol Hill. What she doesn’t know is how humbled I was to watch her do her job. Forever the fighter of the good fight, she thought she was teaching me political mechanics. What she really did was remind me what idealism is all about. I love you for that and so much more. There are endless reasons I couldn’t do this without you, C. Jill Kneerim, my agent and friend, whose insights and intuition challenge me to bring honesty to the forefront of my writing. Her guidance is among the first I seek, but it’s her friendship that I treasure (even more than she knows). Elaine Rogers, for the amazing work she’s done from the very start. Ike Williams, Hope Denekamp, Elizabeth Dane, Seana McInerney, and all the other incredibly nice people at the Kneerim & Williams Agency.

Now more than ever, I’d also like to thank my parents, whose unflinching love brought me here today. They keep me grounded, support me, and forever remind me where home really is. Everything I am, everything I have – it started with them. My sister Bari, one of the strongest people I know, for sharing that strength whenever I need it. Thanks, Bari, for everything you do. Dale and Adam Flam helped brainstorm the game, while Bobby Flam and Ami and Matt Kuttler read early drafts. Their love and support helped me throughout. Steve “Scoop” Cohen, fellow dreamer, brother in creativity, and all-around mad genius, for the eureka moment that led to this entire book. The ideas are fun; the friendship is far more valued. Thanks, Cheese! Noah Kuttler, without whose help I’d be insanely lost. Noah’s the first sounding board I go to after my wife. He’s that talented. He knows he’s family – I just hope he realizes how blessed I feel to have him in my life. Ethan and Sarah Kline helped develop the game, and Ethan has fearlessly pushed me as a writer since my very first manuscript. Paul Bre

In every novel, the goal is to make a complete fabrication sound like absolute fact. The only way to pull it off is to arm yourself with details. I owe the following people tremendous thank-yous for making those details available: Without question, when it came to explaining how the government actually works, Dave Watkins was my congressional sensei - an incredible teacher who was patient enough to answer all my inane questions. From initial brainstorming to final chapter gut-checking, I trusted him with every detail. He never let me down. Scott Strong was the Indiana Jones of the U.S. Capitol, guiding me through unexplored passageways and abandoned tu