Word: havener
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Captain Chris Johnson is ready to roll. He is sitting in his armored humvee at the gate of a U.S. military compound in Baghdad, preparing to head out onto Haifa Street, a haven for insurgents and one of the most dangerous districts in Baghdad. Johnson isn't fully certain where he's heading, so he reaches for a handheld radio slung from his body armor and clicks the hand mike. "Colonel, is everybody going to Gator Base?" A voice crackles back: "Yes." It's a routine exchange, save for one thing: the voice of Johnson's convoy commander belongs...
...really paid for the Malaysia trip? A Heritage senior fellow who was on the trip tells TIME that it wasn't Heritage. He says that Belle Haven Consultants, a for-profit, Hong Kong--based firm linked to the Malaysian government, played a key role. "Heritage had nothing to do with it," says the senior fellow, former Wyoming Senator Malcolm Wallop. "Belle Haven did." It would be a violation of House ethics rules if a group other than the official sponsor paid for a trip for a member of Congress. DeLay's spokesman Dan Allen insists, "Heritage sponsored, organized and paid...
...Belle Haven is now registered as acting on behalf of Malaysia, and public documents filed shortly after the DeLay trip indicate that it was controlled in part by a company created by an ally of Mahathir's. Belle Haven's president, Ken Sheffer, is a paid consultant for Heritage, and was described by the foundation's spokesman as its "international man of mystery." Sheffer, who was also on the trip, did not return calls for comment. A Hill source tells TIME that the Senate Finance Committee is looking into the possible use of charities to end-run ethics rules...
...grandparents, whom I lived with for three years as a child, were the greatest influence on my life. My grandfather Shia Seicol had come to the U.S. from Russia. He had a great passion for America and an amazing love of country. In New Haven, Conn., where they lived, we were always going to parades. My grandfather and I would stand on the curb, and he'd be holding my hand; I could feel his hand breaking my fingers when the flag was coming by, and the martial music was playing. I'd look up into his face...
...Thursday, April 14, 11 pm, Vatican City I still haven't had the "caught-sneaking-inside-the-conclave" dream. But the fitful nights of the past two weeks have nontheless been filled with flashing images of Cardinals dropping folded notes in golden urns, then winking at me, and insiders whispering the name of the man who will emerge once the white smoke clears then snickering. After another busy morning of phone calls trawling for hints on the state of the race for the papacy I found myself briefly alone with an eggplant and mozzarella panino at an outside table...