"Well ..."

Agent Beckeman walked in, grabbed his tacos, dropped his cash, and walked away with only a quick glance at Carson kneeling before Pea with his hands folded as if seeking forgiveness from the Lady of Guadalupe.

"I don't want to know."

"The Feds submitted their detention brief," Bobby said. "Twenty-five pages with a five-hundred-page exhibit, including DVDs."

"Bookman agreed to submit an amicus brief in the immigration case," Karen said.

"I got donuts," Carlos said. "Krispy Kreme."

"Bobby, you read the detention brief," Scott said. "Karen, call Bookman and tell him we need his brief ASAP. Oral arguments are today."

"What do you want me to do?" Carlos asked.

"Give me a donut."

Scott had arrived at the courthouse to find the gang gathered in his chambers and hundreds of emails in his inbox; apparently, every lawyer and human being he had ever met had sent an email of support, encouragement, and even congratulations, as if he had personally apprehended the alleged terrorists. He hadn't had that many messages since his college days from friends wanting tickets to the big game. Dozens of phone messages also awaited him, including one from a movie producer who wanted to do his life story and another from a TV producer who wanted him to star in a reality show.

"Keeping up with the Fenneys," Karen said.

"Hell's Courtroom," Bobby said.

"Paralegal Wars," Carlos said.

"The Bailiff Bachelor," Louis said.

Carlos looked sideways at Louis. "You watch the Bachelor?"

"Uh, no. I, uh, I heard about it."

Carlos wasn't buying what Louis was selling.

"Unh-huh. Looks like the big man wants a gal."

Everyone laughed until Helen knocked on the open door.

"Judge, Frank Turner is here."

"Show him in."

Scott stood and went around the desk. Frank had come to Scott's aid; Scott could at least come around his desk. Frank walked in; Scott offered him an open hand and a big smile. But Frank did not seem in the jovial mood.

"Frank, you know Bobby, and this is Karen Douglas, my briefing attorney. She and Bobby are married, so don't ask her out. This is Carlos and Louis, my paralegal and bailiff. They're not married. They're both available."

Scott's attempt at humor fell flat with Frank.

"Sit down, Frank."

Frank sat in front of Scott's desk; he sat behind it.

"Thanks for taking the case, Frank. I won't forget it."

"Yeah." Frank rubbed his face. He did not look well. "Scott, I just filed a Motion for Pretrial Release. My duty as Mustafa's lawyer is to argue for his release pending trial, particularly since the Feds don't have a shred of evidence against him, but ..."

"But what?"

"Don't do it. Don't release him."

"Why not?"

Frank shook his head slowly. His mood was getting worse.

"So I figure I need to meet my clients, right? I mean, that's what criminal defense lawyers do, they go to the jail and meeting their fucking clients." He grimaced then glanced at Karen. "Excuse my French, Ms. Herrin." Back to Scott: "So I meet the other defendants first. These people, they're scary. They remind me of the gangbangers I prosecuted. Cold eyes, look right through you, like you're not even a human being. Easier to cut your head off, I guess, if you're not really human. Anyway, I got nothing from them."

Frank wiped his forehead free of sweat.

"Then I meet Mustafa. He looks like my goddamned grandpa or something. And I say, okay, Omar, I'm your lawyer and to defend you I need to know the truth, see, so why don't you be a good boy and tell me the truth. Well, his face changed. He wasn't my grandpa anymore, he was the devil himself. He said-"

Frank's eyes turned up to Scott.

"Scotty, I can't breach the attorney-client privilege, but don't let him out."

"Frank, I've got to follow the law."

"No, you don't. Not in this case."

Frank wiped his face again. "I feel like the guy who faced down the raptor in Jurassic Park."

"The raptor ate him," Bobby said.

"Exactly."

Scott had never seen Frank Turner, famous plaintiffs' lawyer, afraid. But afraid he was.

"On the bright side, I'm getting lots of publicity. I've done interviews with every network and cable news program, and I'll be on O'Reilly next week."

Frank's face was not bright with the bright side.

"Will you handle the detention hearing?"

Frank's expression said he was considering the request ... and still considering. Finally, he nodded. Slowly.

"I'll do my job."

"Thank you. I'll let you off the case after the hearing. I'll tell the Imam that you have a conflict. Or you're sick. Or something."

"Maybe I'll go into Witness Protection."

He went away for a long moment. Then he snapped out of it and blinked hard.

"Scotty, I'll do that. I'll go away if I have to. But whatever you do, don't let that son of a bitch out."

"The president-and only the president-decides who gets kicked out of America. He possesses the sole authority under the Constitution to enforce-or not enforce-the immigration laws. It's called prosecutorial discretion."

"The president's discretion is absolute?"

"It is."

"As in unchallengeable?"

"Yes, sir. Well, until the next election. The people can vote him out if they don't like how he exercised his discretion."

"But there is to be no judicial oversight of his discretion between elections?"

"No, sir."

"Then why are you here?"

The president's lawyer pointed at opposing counsel. "Because the states don't agree."

It was oral argument day in The State of Texas, et al. v. The President of the United States of America, et al. The executive order case. Immigration reform seemed more appropriate to the legislative branch; it was a political question, not a legal one. But, as is often happens, when the politics prove difficult, one party makes it a legal case. The president had done so when he issued an executive order effectively granting amnesty to twelve million illegal immigrants without Congressional approval. Whether those people should be granted amnesty is a political question; whether the president exceeded his executive authority under the Constitution in granting them amnesty is a legal question. The first step to resolving such a legal question is the filing of a lawsuit in federal court. That the states had done. Whichever way Scott ruled, the case would not end in his courtroom. The loser would appeal to the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans; the loser in the appeals court would then appeal to the Supreme Court in Washington. It would be a long legal journey. That legal journey began in Judge A. Scott Fenney's courtroom in Dallas.

"Mr. Daniels, what is the constitutional authority for that contention?"

"Separation of powers. The Constitution established three branches of government. The legislative branch enacts the laws, the executive branch enforces the laws, and the judicial branch interprets the laws. The president cannot tell Congress how to write the laws, they can't tell him how to enforce the laws, and neither can tell the Supreme Court how to interpret the laws. Enforcement of the law is vested exclusively in the executive branch. Enforcement is at the president's sole and absolute discretion-when, how, against whom, and to what extent."

"To what extent?"

"Yes, sir."

"The current immigration law requires persons residing illegally in the U.S. to be deported, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct."

"But the president exercised his prosecutorial discretion in deciding not to enforce that part of the law?"

"That's also correct."

"Is that presidential authority limited to the immigration laws?"

"I'm sorry, Judge, I don't understand your question."

"My question is, does the president also possess the sole authority to enforce-or not enforce-the tax laws?"

"Yes, sir, he does."

"The tax code-written by Congress-specifies certain exemptions from the obligation to pay taxes, for example, universities and charitable hospitals. But you're saying that the president-on his own, without Congressional approval-may grant additional exemptions, that he may exempt certain people from paying taxes?"

"Exempt? No, sir, he can't exempt anyone from the tax law. But he can exercise his prosecutorial discretion and decline to enforce the tax law against certain people."

"Just as he has declined to enforce the immigration law against certain people?"

"Yes, sir."

"Isn't that just semantics? 'Exempt' or 'decline to enforce'? Isn't the bottom line the same: certain people don't have to obey the law, be it immigration or taxes? Is that the rule of law?"

"The president decides how to enforce the law. He may decide that enforcement of the tax laws against certain people, such as-"

"Persons residing here illegally?"

"-is not economically feasible. So he can decline to enforce the law against them. Many illegals work off the books. They get paid in cash, which is difficult to trace, so the president may decide that it's simply not worth allocating limited enforcement resources to chase those people."

"And the same goes for the securities laws, the banking laws, the antitrust laws . . .?"

"Yes, sir. The president gets to decide when, where, how, and against whom to enforce the laws."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're sure you want to bet your case on that contention?"

The government lawyer stared at Scott a long moment then sighed and turned his hands up.

"Judge, you do realize that we don't enforce the tax law against anyone. Or the securities law. Or the banking law. Or the antitrust law. Or the civil rights law. Or the environmental law. We don't enforce any laws anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, since nine-eleven, we enforce one law: domestic terrorism. It's an honor code for all other laws. All federal law enforcement resources are spent on preventing another nine-eleven. Period. So while this is an interesting law school question-May the president decline to enforce the law?-it's a moot question. We haven't brought a dozen tax or securities or banking fraud cases in the last fourteen years. And the only antitrust case was that e-book pricing case, as if that were the end of the free world."

"Why?"

"There's no money. Every dime goes to the terrorism task forces. So, even if you rule in favor of the states, the reality on the ground will remain the same-we don't have the money to deport all those Mexicans. Or any Mexican. The border is wide open and will remain wide open. The wall won't be built. Money, guns, drugs, and people will continue to flow across unimpeded. The president's executive order simply states the reality-we can't afford to deport Mexicans because we're spending all our money fighting Muslims."

His shoulders slumped. A government lawyer who couldn't enforce the law was like a home run hitter forced to bunt; it wasn't his nature or training. He wanted to do his job. Swing for the fences. Or enforce the law.

"In summary, it is within the authority of the Executive Branch to set forth policy for the exercise of prosecutorial discretion in enforcement actions within the framework of existing law. This executive order is an exercise of that authority."

He spoke with all the enthusiasm of a high school sophomore reciting Beowulf.

"Thank you, Mr. Daniels."

He closed his notebook and trudged to his seat. The courtroom was empty except for a few journalists. This case was flying way under the radar. The lawyer for the State of Texas took his place at the podium.