Zero Game Read Online Free PDF

of your family?” A simple query for any witness, but when you add in the fact that a few days earlier, the Attorney General insisted that public figures should be able to keep their family lives private—well . . . now we had a horse race. Waiting for the words to be uttered, we watched that achingly boring Senate hearing as if it were the final round of
Rocky.
Today, I’m glued to a vote that was decided by a majority almost ten minutes ago. Even the baseball lobbyists have turned off their TVs. But I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s not the seventy-five dollars I’ve got riding on the outcome. It’s the challenge. When Harris and I put our money down, we figured they’d never get near 110 votes. Whoever’s on the other side obviously thinks they can. Right now they’re at 107. No doubt, impressive . . . but it’s the last three that are going to be like shoving a mountain.
    108
blinks onto my pager.
    A buzzer rings through the air. One more minute left on the official clock.
    “So what’s the count at?” Trish asks, swiveling at the sound, back toward the TV.
    “Can we please not change the subject?” Ezra begs.
    Trish doesn’t care. She’s still scanning the screen.
    “Hundred and eight,” I tell her as the C-SPAN number clicks into place.
    “I’m impressed,” she admits. “I didn’t think they’d get this far.”
    The grin on my face spreads even wider. Could Trish be playing? Six months ago, Harris invited me in—and one day, I’ll invite someone else. All you know are the two people you’re directly connected to: one above, one below. In truth, it’s purely for safety purposes—in case word gets out, you can’t finger someone if you don’t know who they are. Of course, it also brings new meaning to the term
anybody’s game.
    I look around the room. All three of my colleagues take subtle glances at C-SPAN. Georgia’s too quiet to be a player. Ezra and Trish are a whole different story.
    On TV, Congressman Virgil Witt from Louisiana strolls across the screen. Ezra’s boss. “There’s your guy,” Trish says.
    “You’re really serious about this Library thing?” Ezra shoots back. He doesn’t care about seeing his boss on television. Around here, it happens every day.
    109,
my pager says.
    On TV, Ezra’s boss once again rushes across the screen.
    Under the desk, I type in one last question:
How’d Witt vote?
    My eyes are on Ezra as the pager rumbles in my hand. Here comes Harris’s answer.
    Nay.
    Before I can respond, the pager vibrates one last time:
110.
    Game over.
    I laugh out loud. Seventy-five bucks in the toilet.
    “What?” Georgia asks.
    “Nothing,” I say, slapping my pager against the top of the conference table. “Just a stupid E-mail.”
    “Actually, that reminds me . . .” Trish begins, pulling out her own pager and checking a quick message.
    “Is anyone here
not
completely distracted?” Ezra asks. “Enough with the friggin’ Blackberries; we’ve got a serious issue—if the White House gets zilched, you know they’ll threaten a veto.”
    “No, they won’t,” Trish insists, clicking away on her pager without looking up. “Not this close to the election. They veto now and it’ll look like they’re holding up funding for the entire government just so they can get their driveway repaved.”
    Knowing she’s right, Ezra falls unusually silent. I stare him down, searching for the tell. Nothing’s there. If he is playing the game, the guy’s a grandmaster.
    “You okay?” he asks, catching my glance.
    “Absolutely,” I tell him. “Perfect.” And for the past six months, it’s been exactly that. Blood’s pumping, adrenaline’s raging, and I’ve got an in on the best secret in town. After eight years in the grind, I almost forgot what it felt like. Even losing doesn’t matter. The thrill is in the play.
    Like I said, the dungeon-masters know what they’re doing. And lucky for me, they’re about to do it again. Any minute now. I check the