No Man's Pawn

So this is my first completed manuscript.  I've always liked the stories where someone is pitted against an opponent that at first glance, there's no contest.  He's doomed.  But somehow, the hero learns enough, is determined enough and stubborn enough that he pulls out a success in the end.

This is one of my first efforts, and I know there are rough spots.  I'm working on a rewrite of this one.  Suggestions are welcome.

Prologue

            A late evening rain shrouded the city in gloom.  The general walked with a tired but steady stride down from the porch to the guarded gate where he received a smart salute from the sentry.  He returned a crisp salute and declined the offer to call a car.  He would walk tonight. 

            The tall, uniformed figure strode past the Treasury building.  Not particularly bothered by the drizzle, the general liked to walk and take the time to think in solitude.  Tonight’s meeting culminated months of careful work and orchestration and literally capped years of effort.  But this one went down in the victory column, and that brought a real smile to the weathered face.  He wanted to savor this moment briefly by himself.  The others would get the word soon enough. 

            He enjoyed the walk down Pennsylvania Avenue.  The looming capitol drew his eye and the smile returned.  Power, this city represented true power.  Here resided power simply waiting for the right hands to seize it.  He had waited years for his chance to hold real power.

            The waiting ended tonight.  After tonight his work moved forward again.  By dawn the workings of a machine that had all but idled for almost five years would roar to life, a life that promised him the rewards that he sought for his country, his people, and his family.  He continued on his way, lost in his own thoughts for several minutes more until he reached his destination. 

            The restaurant and associated bar were known to locals as a decent place.  Not the best in town and rarely frequented by the top crust of the capitol, but upscale enough that the visit by a general or senior congressional aide created little stir. 

            The owner made everyone welcome, running a good kitchen and fine bar.  The proprietor also kept his counsel close and proved very discreet, a fact that did not pass unnoticed.  Because of this discretion, the various private dining rooms, and its location; the venue provided a convenient location for the representatives of the different powers in the city to meet, discuss, plan, and implement their respective agendas.  The general planned to attend just such a meeting.

            Tommy met the general at the door.  The Maitre‘d of the establishment, he took his job seriously enough and even recognized some of the importance of what took place behind the closed doors.  He recognized the signs that tonight’s meeting was one of importance and acted accordingly. 

            He warmly greeted the general and took his coat and hat, making sure that they were placed out of sight at the coat check.  Then he led the way to the private dining room, pausing only long enough to get a drink for the general at the bar.

            “The others are already eating, sir.  I do hope that you don’t mind.”

            “No worries Tommy,” smiled the general.  “I expected them to get started, especially as I am late.”

            “The salmon is good tonight sir and I can have it ready for you quickly.”

            “That will be fine Tommy.”

            Tommy smiled, “I will put the kitchen right on it.”

            The general offered his thanks then turned and entered the room without knocking.  All conversation ceased the moment he entered and all eyes were upon him.  Not one to let a good moment go, the general played up the drama, letting some of his fatigue show as he moved around the table, murmuring his greetings and his apologies for the late arrival.

            "Ben," one of the other guests at the table spoke in a pained voice, "Enough with the suspense!  How did it go at the White House?"

            "Just savoring the moment Ralph," he spoke to the questioner.  Then to all assembled he continued, "My friends, we have the President’s blessing to move forward!" 

            Tension relaxed in the room.  Some light chuckles were heard and several drinks, nursed carefully to this point, were quickly drained.  The wood paneled room seemed to brighten, despite the lingering smoke and lowered lights.  The point of no return on this had passed long before for all of them.  Their project stretched back for more than a dozen years, but without presidential sanction it could all come crashing down in a matter of days.  Now that fear would be laid to rest.

            While everyone in the room knew the next steps to take, small talk about what would happen, took up the next few minutes.  A knock at the door preceded Tommy with the General's dinner.  Tommy noted the difference in the feel of the room as soon as he entered and was glad. 

            "So Ben," asked Ralph when Tommy left, "Did the president know about us?" 

That was an unanswered question from way back.  They had all worked for FDR for years, but none knew if the previous president ever got around to telling Truman of their existence.  FDR's death, abrupt and unexpected as it was, left a lot of loose ends to clean up.  It also severed the lines of communication this project held to the presidency and left the great question in all of their minds, Did Truman know of their existence and their efforts?  Would he continue to sanction them? 

            Most of the last five years were spent in clean up mixed with the occasional plodding step forward.  Much had been done quietly but it quickly became apparent that they needed higher sanction to be able to move forward sufficiently fast to make a difference.  Especially with the start of the Korean conflict.  So the group decided to bring a proposal to the President, set up an organization that could operate swiftly and precisely when the need arose, without direct oversight.  The fact that the organization already existed, and had operated for well over a decade for the former president did not matter and would not be raised. 

            "President Truman knew very little of our history.  He did not like the thought of a group operating without direct oversight, but understands that the need is there, especially with Korea.  If any of us do anything to embarrass him, however, he will let us hang."

            No one expressed surprise at this; they already ran the organization after all.  A decade or more of experience taught them to expect nothing less.  Those who were not professional in their work had been discovered and discarded long before. 

            The dinner wound down.  Most of the guests finished their meals to depart to a work filled night, putting long delayed plans in motion.  When only the general and Ralph remained, to the general's surprise, Tommy again entered.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but a gentlemen needs to speak to you.  He is right outside the door now."

            With that another man entered the room while Tommy again retreated.  The general glanced at his friend Ralph, who quite clearly was not surprised, but rather pleased at the arrival of the new stranger. 

            The new arrival would not have drawn undue attention in a crowd, except for the penetrating eyes.  He wore a conservative suit that only showed its worth on close inspection, then one would notice the quality of the material and the fine nature of its craftsmanship.  The man looked and moved comfortably, unconsciously accepting the fact that he ultimately was in control of the situation.

            Ralph was a private businessman, a lawyer who worked for several clients and businesses.  Arrogant and impatient, he bowed to no man.  Yet now he spoke to a definite superior.

            "Sir, I am glad that you made it.  For a while I did not know if you would come."

            "Glad to be here, Ralph.  And very glad to meet you General Lewis.  You have done us a service tonight in your presentation to the president.  We really did not know how he would react, but I for one am glad he finally approved.  It was a wise choice by the organization to send you to the meeting."

            "You have me at a disadvantage," stated the general formally.  He did not recognize this man, did not know if his involvement in his affairs.  Something bothered him about the newcomer, his apparent nonchalance in a situation that should have been new to him.  He did not like Ralph's apparent subservience to this man.

            The stranger smiled.  "I am sorry general, but that is by design.  Suffice it to say that Ralph and I have worked together for many years.  I am aware of your activities; in fact I have supported them since the beginning."

            General Lewis glanced at Ralph angered at the breach of trust of one of the most senior members of the organization.  "Ralph, what is this?  What have you told this man?"

            He was truly shaken.  He knew that discretion was of the utmost importance, he drilled that ceaselessly into everyone involved in his organization, and for good reason.  Knowledge was power, and the wrong knowledge in the wrong hands could bring them down. 

            Ralph returned the look with amusement.  "Ben, I know how important this organization is, the importance of what we are doing.  You know that.  I would do nothing to endanger us."

            The casual nature of the response surprised Ben Lewis.  Questions jumped into his mind.  Just how much did this newcomer know?  What had he done with that knowledge?  How could this affect his work?  He felt the first glimmers of fear.

            "Ralph, you involved an outsider without my knowledge.  This is a serious breach!"  General Ben Lewis was trying to conceal his fear with anger.  This could derail all of his hard work, costing him not just this organization but also his career.

            "General Lewis," stated the strange calmly, "I know how important your work is.  Ralph got involved in your organization in the first place because of me.  I chose him personally for the job."

            The general looked back at Ralph.  "It's true Ben.  I would never have even known about the project or the organization without this man's direction and approval."

            "Who are you?" the general asked the stranger.  Now he was shaken.  What he had heard so far in this brief interview indicated something outside his experience.  He felt the control slipping through his fingers, and could not sat that he liked the sensation.  Not at all.

            "I am afraid that you are truly better off not knowing, general.  Again, that is my decision to make, not yours.  You of all people know the nature of the work that you do.  It should come as no surprise that others are in the know, and that maybe we are even responsible for steering you in the right direction now and again."

            "Why are you here?" asked the general.

            "To thank you for your work.  I worked very closely with Franklin when he was alive.  In fact, FDR included you in this organization at the start on my suggestion.  I like to keep an eye on the talent.  I am very pleased that you have done as much as you have.  It makes my position more secure."

            This was preposterous!  This man stood here making claims that could have no validity.  And if there were an ounce of truth to his claims, to appear now just to thank him for his efforts?  Not likely, there had to be more here.  Ben's eye narrowed as he continued, "That is not the only reason," the general stated flatly.

            "No it is not.  You also need to know that we, I and others like me, are here.  In a nutshell, there are others who know all about you, and who support your efforts," condescension dripped from every word the stranger spoke.

"You are about to move on operations that have been dormant since FDR died.  You will be operating outside of public knowledge, and independent of direct governmental control, but not without certain oversight."  Here the mans eyes bored into the general.

            "I represent that group of overseers.  We can help you, more than you might think.  I am here because we approve of what you do.  We also want to expand your horizons.  We look after our own, General Ben Lewis, ask Ralph about that."  The man leaned back against the table, showing a relaxed posture.  He nodded to the general as he continued.  "Now that you are active again, we need a wider hand in this organization than just Ralph.  We chose you."

            "We?" asked the general.  His head swam, he felt the last vestiges of control slipping from him.  Who would dare to do something like this to him?

            The stranger smiled.  It became clear that Ben would never get an answer to that question.

            "Ben, I can vouch for everything that this man has said," chimed in Ralph.  "I know that this is a shock, but I really have my hands full and when I suggested getting you in on helping me..." he left the thought unfinished.

            Ben Lewis had had enough.  This man stood here making claims, but had not given anything but vague nuances about the organization and its work.  This clearly represented a ploy, most likely by Ralph to gain greater control, unseat the general.  He turned an angry gaze on Ralph, "Ralph, this ends right now!  I don't know what you told this man but this has to be handled now.  We have to get him out of here and silence..."

"General Lewis," interrupted the stranger, "I see that you doubt my sincerity and authenticity.  Perhaps a demonstration is in order.  Something to show you that I am someone that you will never trifle with."

            He stood straight, folding his arms and looking at the general as one might a fractious student.  "Tonight you were given a letter by President Truman.  That letter authorizes you to put into motion a plan to expedite the sending of certain special equipment and material to help outfit a couple of unofficial groups involved the Korean conflict.  These groups are authorized to obtain materials from Korea, any sensitive materials or equipment obtained from our enemies, or our allies, that might prove useful for our country.  How we obtain these materials is left unsaid.  Those are the general outlines of the letter.  When the need is presented, or even before it is seen, you may act.  Shoot first and ask questions later if you will."

            General Lewis' worst fears were realized.  This man knew the crux of their efforts and operations.  But the whole team knew this much.  Ralph could easily have told this stranger what he had just repeated.  What came next, however, scalded into the general's consciousness.  No one in the group knew the details of what came next. 

            The stranger continued, "You did omit key information from the president.  You never once mentioned that this organization has existed for the past 17 years and operated under direction of FDR since the first days of his presidency and before.  That information was not deemed important for you to pass on to President Truman.  I happen to agree with that decision.  What he does not know, cannot hurt us."

General Lewis was shocked.  He actually started to tremble despite his best efforts to resist the sign of weakness.

            "Further, the meeting did not start out well.  It took a lot of skill to bring the President around to your point of view, but you did it.  That is impressive.  Now you are ready to move, but you must understand how you are to operate.  You are a caretaker now, not a director.  You need to act in the best interests of your organization.  You know that you will prosper along with your organization. 

            "Most importantly you need to learn that you are not alone.  You need to know that you are part of something even larger.  There are other caretakers, other projects, other organizations.  You may come in contact with some of them as you reactivate your work.  Some of them have truly grown over the recent years."

            The general swallowed hard.  His mind whirled with the information disclosed by the stranger.  Twice in seventeen years he had seen evidence that other organizations like his own might exist.  Now he considered it confirmed, from this suddenly credible source.

            This latest revelation from the stranger was proof positive, and it was terrifying the information that this man had access too.  Only two beside the president and himself, a presidential aide and a cabinet member, had been in the meeting tonight.  One of those two, or the president himself, unlikely as that seemed, had described the meeting in detail to this stranger. 

            Ben Lewis knew enough about his own organization and how such shadowy groups worked to know the power this stranger held.  He held knowledge and anonymity.  Knowledge of the details of his efforts and apparently several others.  And the general knew nothing about him.

            The general faced the fact that he might just be owned outright by this man with all the knowledge.  He long ago passed the point of no return.  If this stranger knew all the details, and knew about Ralph's activities as much as Ben feared, there was no way out.  General Lewis was no longer in control of his destiny.

            "Ben," the stranger continued, "the president understands that this informal permission will end in 6 to 9 months, just long enough for us to get our feet under us in Korea.  You and I both know that this organization will never end.  It did not die with FDR.  Once the momentum is set from the first six months you will continue without stopping and no one in official circles will pay the slightest attention.  This is genius on your part.  You've been noticed by us though, and that is a good thing." 

            "Why are you doing this?" rasped the general still trying to come to terms with the revelations so brutally dropped on him.

            The stranger sighed and continued with exaggerated patience, "General, you are part of a bigger picture.  I am here to enlighten you on that subject.  From time to time you will receive instructions.  You simply need to act on them.  I do not have time to pass them to you through Ralph any more.  Ralph is a skilled manipulator, but many in your organization are a little too sure of themselves, like you were.  But that is handled now."

            The stranger checked his watch.  "I took the liberty of calling a car for you.  It should be here by now."

            The general looked at Ralph and then back to the stranger.  He still had cards to play.  This was not over yet.  He was a US Army general after all.  He did not have to take orders from this man.  He rose preparing for a desperate defense. 

            As if reading his mind the strangers eyes hardened.  He stepped forward, forcing the general to sit back down.  "General, you were a major when all of this started.  You owe us your advancement to General, look into it if you want and you will see that it is true.  You will find what you need to know.  So far you have been literally perfect in your execution, and we have been more than generous in our rewards to you.  As I said before, you have caught some high level attention.  We know what you have done, what you plan to do, and why you do it.  Now we are not going to stop you from doing what you plan to do, we are going to help you.  But you need to recognize now that you did not act in a vacuum.  You are an effective member of the military arm of a greater organization.  There has been a hand guiding you, and it will continue to guide you, just a little more visible to you now." 

            The stranger paused, then continued, "Consider what I have told you and understand that this is nothing more or less than a demonstration of what we, and I stress the we, are capable of.  We have eyes and ears and arms in the public sector and in the business world at large.  You do not know who I am, in fact, you likely never will.  But I know you general.  I can, and will continue to help you so long as our interests coincide.  For you that is a very good thing.  You need my help general.  I will see that you fall without it!"

            The stranger delivered the monologue as if speaking to a child.  The authority was unmistakable, especially to the military mind.  The general knew that here he was outranked.  There was no question about his obedience to these orders.  The demonstration of knowledge, and his own realization of how that knowledge had to be obtained, ran deep into the general's brain.  He nodded mutely.

            A soft knock at the door announced Tommy.  He escorted a much shaken general to his waiting car. 

            Ralph Hart and his mysterious boss stepped to their own car minutes later.  As they drove away Ralph commented to his superior.  "I still think that you pushed him too hard."

            A wry smile crossed the bosses face.  “I had to.  General Lewis has hard talent and it runs deep.  He really did set this up mostly on his own.  He is way too sure of himself though.  You two are old acquaintances but he listens to you less and less and goes his own way more and more.  He honestly thought that he controlled that group.  Tonight was to be the coup d' tat for him.  He would have taken control from you, then where would we be?  I could not afford to have him run headlong into one of my other pursuits.  He had to be brought to heel, and it had to be hard.  He is military to the bone and understands that kind of show of authority."

            Ralph still hesitated, something noted by his superior.

            "Look Ralph, I had to shake him hard.  Very soon Ben will have to take orders that he may just find too much to stomach.  I have to be sure that I control him."

            "What if he bolts?"

            "Do you really think that he would do something like that now?"

            "No, not really."

            "The general proved he is useful.  He is a valuable tool, but just that, a tool.  In the coming days he will look for a way out.  He won't find one.  He thought he was in control, but he now knows he is not.  He thought he worked more or less alone, now he knows that he is part of something bigger.  I have use for him, but he needs to recognize that someone else is in charge.  Everything that he does now will have that thought in mind."

            Several minutes passed in silence.  Then, "Ralph, your friend is off balance and may become desperate in the next few days.  Keep an eye on him and be prepared to take steps if he shows signs of breaking."

            "Are you sure that is necessary?"

            "Ralph, right now your friend is considering all courses of action.  Nothing is off limits.  He may just think that he can still get out of this.  He may even be willing to sacrifice his professional career for the greater good of his country.  Sometimes the patriotic ones think that way.  General Lewis has to know that he is owned by us now.  His family is not off limits.  If he tries anything out of line, slap his family down.  If he continues to balk after that, let me know.  My people will take it from there."

            Ralph looked at his boss carefully, "That seems somewhat wasteful after what you have invested in him."

            The boss returned a meaningful looked, "You know better than that Ralph.  This is the most heartless, ruthless, and unforgiving game on God's Green Earth.  Nothing is out of bounds, everything has to be considered.  Everyone is expendable if they take the wrong steps, even you and I."

            "Understood."  Ralph took the rebuke meekly.  He crossed a line in questioning his superior's directions.  He understood implicitly that his boss would watch him now, for a time.  He vowed not to slip up again. 

            Ralph had genuinely come to like Ben Lewis, but he recognized power and the perks that came with this work.  It was not wealth, it was not comfort, it was not even being in the know that drew him in and encouraged him onward.  It was the power.  Being able to make things happen when he wanted them to happen, to change the course of events, even lives at his will and whim.  This was the heady wine that addicted him.  This was what would also sell him Ben Lewis in the end.  If not, he could cast Ben aside in his own quest for power, simple as that.

            That weekend Ralph Hart and Ben Lewis spent several days talking about the Korean op and what would follow.  Ralph occupied his position for a reason, he could be most persuasive and manipulative, and he used all of his skills and talents to bend the general to his way of thinking.  By the end of the week, the general willingly, if not yet enthusiastically, agreed to continue the project in his new role. 

            And so the Korean operation moved forward.  It did not end in six or nine months, or even six or nine years.  Ralph served faithfully as caretaker of his tasks until a sudden heart attack took him, after which his son continued in his stead.  General Lewis worked tirelessly for his project, his organization, and for his country; or so he told himself, until he retired with two stars during the Viet Nam war.  But still the projects continued and grew.

            Over time the scope of the several projects shifted from the gathering and passing of information to focus more directly on gathering wealth, and the influence that came with it.  All to exercise power and further the ambition of the caretakers and their mysterious masters.

            Of course it all expanded during the sixties and seventies.  The growing conflicts in the world spurred the growth of such things.  Occasionally someone would stumble or make a public mistake, and damage control was needed, both to punish the fools who failed and to limit the discovery of clandestine activities. 

            More served as caretakers and the projects expanded.  As they grew and their scale expanded, it became inevitable that separate projects would clash.  When this happened the maneuvering became intense.  Once even leading to the elimination of a potentially rival project by a larger competitor in the late eighties.  That was messy, but largely passed unnoticed by the public.  A car crash, a fire, and an industrial accident; all apparently unrelated of course, finally brought the underground fight to an end.  The victors took over and buried the losers.  And still it continued. 

            Another generation took over from the old.  Power grew and so did the hubris associated with power and wealth.  Rival Caretakers sought advantage against each other and employed greater and more complex strategies to get ahead, forging alliances and fomenting betrayals.  The shadowy masters letting the game go on, winnowing the chaff out of their separate organizations in a brutal Darwinian fashion.  Still the organizations grew and continued in its efforts to control, to guide, to direct the futures of nations.  Then the balance of power shifted...

Chapter One.

            The evening rain only improved the situation.  The man known as Ritter drove his car down the chosen road.  He slowed as he hit the rolling hills, and then stopped just as he came around a bend on a downhill slope, just before a stoplight.  He checked his watch, flipped on his hazards, and pulled over to the side of the road.

            His movements showed an economy of exertion, no real wasted motion or energy.  Here was a professional.  Someone who knew what needed doing and how to accomplish it with the least expenditure of energy and resources.  But that would probably only be noticed by a specially trained eye.  Ritter cultivated normalcy in every other way.  He went out of his way never to attract attention, to never single himself out in a crowd.  He lived in anonymity.  The best words to describe him were normal and average.  He knew that, and lived because he kept it that way.

            For weeks he had worked on this setup.  The neighborhood was secluded and private, it had to be for this to work.  The layout of the road left a lot to be desired for normal safe driving.  Coming down off a hill into a sharp left bend, with the road bordered by high banks on either side.  To top it off the banks held hedges and trees  and the turn led right into a stoplight.  Perfect.

            The county long ago tried to make it safer by installing a sign warning drivers of the upcoming stoplight, complete with flashing lights just before the bend.  The lights flashed when the stoplight was yellow or red.  Drivers unfamiliar with this stretch of road welcomed the warning and reacted as they should, by slowing down and taking extra care at the turn.  Most of the local drivers, however, became conditioned to speed down the hill if the lights were not flashing, knowing they could blaze around the turn and through the unseen intersection without serious issue.  It was a perfect place for his job.

            The hit had to be an accident.  It could not just look like an accident, it really had to be an accident, and it would have to withstand some serious scrutiny.  No one could discover the setup.  But that was why they called him.

            Automobile accidents, he felt, were the best possible scene for untraceable hits.   The key was to tamper with the scene of the accident, rather than the vehicle.  A car was built to rigid, known specifications, and it became clear all too quickly when a specific system had failed to act or had acted abnormally.  The environment surrounding the car however always held a nearly infinite number of possible conditions.  These he could manipulate and cover up with ease.

            Several weeks of careful watching and monitoring of the mark had passed before he found the right spot.  His mark drove this road on a regular basis and had developed terrible habits due to her familiarity with the route. Habits that would lend themselves to the successful completion of the job.  It did not matter how his mark would be lured to drive this route at the specified time, so he left that consideration to his employer.  His job was to set up credible conditions, so there would be no questioning of the authenticity of the accident, and make sure it happened as planned.  So now he was here.  He checked his phone and saw the text arrive.  Show time.

            He popped his trunk and got out of the car.  He walked back to the trunk and pulled out his luggage, then the spare and the jack.  He needed an excuse for his car to be in the way, and a flat tire seemed as good as any other.  The several large containers of water also in the trunk would not be needed tonight as the rain provided a much better source for that part of the program.

            The car provided an obstacle or a target for his victim as this plan would work one of two ways.  Either the car would be hit by mark's car, or if the drivers reactions were quick enough, the stone and metal guard rail on the embankment would take the brunt of the crash.  The final decision rested in the skill of the driver.  Either would work to deliver the needed result.  And Ritter had laid careful plans for either outcome.

            If the car were hit, he would be here to meet the police and act the troubled motorist distraught at the harm accidentally caused to his fellow man.  That was the most troublesome option.  It required the most effort to tie up.  But he was prepared for it, complete with cover story and a plan to dispose of or explain each and every item he carried.

            If the mark proved skillful enough to dodge the parked car, as Ritter hoped, then he became the first man on the scene to offer aid.  If after the accident the scene remained clear, he could drive off and disappear completely.

            Ritter hoped that his full preparations would not be needed, but those in his profession who were not careful did not last very long.  No, he built solid plans to handle all possible contingencies and those efforts kept him alive and free.  One lasted long in this business due to careful planning and thinking more than natural skill and ability. 

            He pulled out his cell, and made a call, all the while looking around, as if for help, but in reality scanning the surrounding for potential witnesses.  The number he dialed on his cell did not connect to another phone, but to a computer that triggered a specific sleeper program in the local traffic control system.  That program watched for and flagged a certain pattern coming in through the stoplight controls for this part of the county.  When a certain pattern showed in the records, the traffic control computer that tracked this intersection would not record accurate records of what happened.  No record of any tampering would exist.  As an added bonus the traffic cam in the intersection ceased to function from that point forward.  He had already arranged for the traffic cam system to act up for several weeks now and the lack of visual recording would serve as a further hindrance to the accident investigation.

            Satisfied that his actions went unobserved and unrecorded, Ritter stepped quickly to the traffic light control box and opened it with the standard key.  No forced locks here.  He pulled a remote control button from his briefcase and plugged it into the control box.  The remote was identical to the ones used by law enforcement organizations anywhere in the U.S.  Police officers used them to operate stoplights for improving traffic control all the time.  He would use the same control to operate the stoplight very shortly for his benefit.

            Stepping back to the car he pulled open his largest suitcase.  Out of the suitcase came two items, a large canister and a small wrapped bundle.  Again, a quick visual check to ensure no one watched his actions, and then Ritter opened the top of the canister.  In the humid air it immediately gave off a misty vapor.  Checking his watch, Ritter hurriedly reversed the canister holding it upside down.  The spout was such that the contents of the canister fanned out in a wide series of small streams.  Ritter carefully swept the contents of the cylinder over the road's surface.  The liquid nitrogen immediately froze the water on the road, in addition to throwing up an eerie cloud of fog.

Ritter stepped back to his car, replaced the canister in his suitcase then stepped back to the control box.  He now had the trap set.  He did not have long to wait.  The next text on his phone told him that the mark was within a minute of arriving at the intersection.  Perfect, there were no other cars in sight.  He triggered the light to green.  The warning signs flashing lights went dark.  As expected the mark increased speed, expecting a clear path through the intersection.  As the car came around the turn on the downhill slope, Ritter changed the light abruptly to yellow, then just as quickly to red.   

            The mark was running late and in a hurry.  Coming down the hill and around the corner already driving too fast, the driver was surprised to see a car, badly parked on the side of the road with flashers on.  Avoiding this first obstacle the driver barely had time to see the light change quickly to red and reacted instinctively.  She turned her wheels sharply to avoid the car and slammed on her brakes to stop at the light,  both actions came just as her tires hit the improvised ice slick. 

            Already losing control, the car slid over the ice.  The driver, unaware of the ice, overcorrected.  It only made it worse when the tires abruptly cleared the ice and hit the road surface, once again finding purchase.  The resultant spin threw the car into the barrier along the side of the road.  Worse still, the car impacted at an odd angle, allowing for greater injury to the occupant of the vehicle, a helpful point in this nights operation.  After hitting once, the car spun around, hit the barrier again, and finally came to a stop at the intersection.  All in all, not a terrible accident, but one not quite finished yet either.    

            Ritter breathed easier.  The oncoming car barely missed hitting his parked car and that allowed for the simpler resolution to his plan.  Snatching up the wrapped bundle Ritter ran to offer 'aid' to the crash victim.  Head swiveling, he scanned for any other witnesses, seeing none.

            The driver was dazed by the accident.  The air bag had not entirely saved her from impacts with specific portions of the interior, a fact that Ritter was counting on.  He pulled open the door of the car and leaned in for a better look at the occupant.  He had to be sure that it was his mark.  One look confirmed it.  Once sure, Ritter pulled the wrapping off of the small bundle to reveal a generic section of a cars interior attached firmly to a metal bar.  The marks eyes widened momentarily as Ritter swung the weapon up, but it was over quickly. 

            Ritter had studied accident scenes and victims for many years, just so he would know how and where most fatal injuries occurred.  He placed his blow carefully but firmly in a plausible location on the head, and waited only long enough to confirm that his work was done.  He stepped out of the car and made his most careful sweep yet of the surroundings to make sure that his actions went unobserved.  Satisfied he wrapped the weapon back up and returned it to his suitcase.  Now that he knew he could use the car again, he packed everything back into the trunk.  Unplugging the remote stoplight control he carefully closed and locked the control panel.  Then he quickly and calmly got back into his car and drove off on his way.  His only pause was to send a text message at the next traffic light.

            Ten minutes would pass before the accident was discovered and reported.  No trace of the ice was found, and when the blood tests of the victim came back showing no alcohol or drugs, then it was ruled an accident caused by speed, with the victim being one of the unfortunate statistics of modern driving.  Warnings that were ignored could not help anyone.  One just could not design a safety feature for every possible crash. 

            It was unfortunate that such a senior member of a DC lobbying firm should die this way.  Her family could take solace in the fact that it ended quickly.  It was all chalked up to a vagary of life. 

            Within the organization, however, some questioned the story of the accident.  But of those who the truth, only a few really cared about it.  This woman, one of them more experienced and older caretakers of her projects and her people in the organizations had recently become the focus of attention for some of the younger up and coming leaders. 

            The determination reached by one of these rising stars; it was time for a change of guard.  First came the rumors that the old lady showed signs of hesitation in some of her critical dealings.  The rumor spread that she might be losing her edge.  Maybe she should step down for the good of the whole.  Take up the experienced advisory role.  These subtle suggestions were ignored. 

            Those who really knew this caretaker took the rumors for the lies they were, after all she served as caretaker for nearly fifteen years.  Always decisive and correct in her dealings, she earned the respect of most who knew her.  She sought out and trained the best in the business, creating her own little cadre of subordinates.  But her deputy he had ambition to spare. 

            When the rumors failed, he turned to more immediate action.  More decisive action.  And it paid off.

            Sebastian Hart would step into the role of caretaker.  He was young for the role, true, but he was also raised for it.  Hadn't his great grandfather, Ralph Hart, proved to be one of the more able caretakers of his time?  And it seemed he passed his skills and abilities onto his son, who followed in his footsteps and more.  His grandson proved to be too timid at a critical moment, only to be shunted aside.  The great grandson, however, gained all that his blood could offer and more, with the boldness and strength that make legends.  And legend status he achieved within the organization.  Truth be told some held him in fear, wondering just what he could do in his ambition.  The accident confirmed what he could and would do, and gave portent to what might happen to others who might get in Sebastian's way.  

            One in particular, a leader in a parallel branch of the organization, felt real fear.  Power had shifted.  Especially now as the one person many had hoped to control Sebastian turned up dead.  Perhaps more radical action was required.

Chapter Two.

            The office buzzed with activity.  Someone unacquainted with the activity might label it chaos, but there existed a frenzied order here that got the job done.  Much more effectively than any other Senator's office truth be told, which reflected well on the current occupant of that office, Senator Murdock Gabriel Lewis. 

            Senator Lewis, a third term senator from New Jersey, held the respect of almost all of the Senate, and had high approval rankings with the public, especially in his home state.  He had the reputation of a firm but fair man.  Known as one not to cross, both his allies and opponents considered him a remarkable man.  Most of this came from a record of accomplishing the things he set out to accomplish.  Rare in a politician, it seemed that he said what he meant and meant what he said. 

            His name always made him think of a cowboy for some reason.  So he often cultivated that mind set in his daily routine and work.  In actuality his first name came from his mother's family and fit well with the patriarchal moniker Lewis.  His parents liked his name and so did he.  Apparently so had the voters in his great home state, which even though it fell in the mid-Atlantic region of the country still had enough appreciation for a folksy demeanor and name that they elected him by a better than sixty percent margin, three times.

            His life had truly been charmed.  Coming from the Lewis brood, family and country meant everything.  His father, a partner in an old and established law firm, and his mother, a respected and loved leader of an international charitable organization, doted upon their children, but expected them to take part in and work hard for their future.  They provided marvelous opportunities for the kids but held them to account to make the most of those opportunities.  Murdock took their lessons and examples to heart and excelled.

            It had helped to be part of the greater Lewis clan; having a two-star General for a grandfather did not hurt, especially if one holds a healthy dose of ambition and willingness to serve in the military.  His stint in the military had been spotless, with prize postings thanks to the invisible hand of Grandpa Ben, who still seemed to exercise tremendous influence even after his retirement.  Influence which Murdock skillfully employed, never enough to blatantly annoy a potential patron or ally, but just enough to get what he wanted.  This skill did not pass unnoticed.  Following his military career, a successful university career led to law school and a position at a renowned law firm.  From there it was a natural step to politics.

            And Murdock took that step with ease.  He knew his future and his legacy was public service, and with his record it was natural that he would fit in well as a leader in government.  Once or twice his name had even been mentioned as a potential contender for the White House, but he had demurred to others, not for lack of ambition, but in recognition that whoever occupied that seat owed to much to too many to truthfully call their life and accomplishments their own.  All too often the president became an institution bound by political favor, tradition, and party doctrine and the individual lost the ability to act for themselves.  Besides which, more than once Senator Lewis had stood up to a sitting president and told him what was what, with the presidential team listening to the message.  Who could ask for more than that? 

            Additionally, by unwritten rule, if he were ever to become president he would have to give up the extra sidelight he had inherited from Grandpa Ben to another's care, his role as a caretaker.  Murdock liked being a caretaker even more than he liked being a Senator.  There was power, all the more enticing because he would wield it so much more decisively.   

            Caretaker in two realms he liked to think to himself, public and private.  He used the power given him by the electorate to work for the public good.  He used the power given to him by the mysterious directors of the shadowy underworld organization, to which he also belonged, to further the reach of that power, his and theirs.  He knew that sooner or later he would be admitted to their august group and rule unmatched in power.  But in the meantime he could be content with his power.  The input of those who could claim to have power over him came rarely indeed.  So good was he, so good were the members of his family that they operated with almost no oversight.  Instinctively they knew and recognized what they could do and should do.  Their unknown masters apparently appreciated that skill and were content to largely let the group proceed with little interference, so long as the money continued to flow.

            And so, he, and select others of the Lewis family, exercised power and influence in the public eye and in other unexpected places.  Grandpa Ben and his sons had amassed quite a fortune.  It seemed that the money came to them with great ease, and they used that money well.  Several divisions made up LF Enterprises, the family company that had fingers in everything from shipping, to medical and biotech, to heavy equipment.  They founded research centers, for medical and technical research to serve future generations.  They created the Lewis Foundation, dedicated to educating America's future leaders.  These efforts brought prestige and, not surprisingly, great influence to the Lewis family. 

            Inside the Lewis Foundation they would select the most promising candidates and provide them with guidance through their educational careers, and then, if the situation proved right and the candidate could be made amenable, they would introduce them to a whole new world of influence and achievement.  Those chosen to become members of the organization went on to posts where they could be further groomed and grown in preparation for their lifetime of service. 

            Many were passed over for service in the organization, judged unfit for various reasons.  But as even those who were passed over owed their success to the foundation and they proved useful tools nonetheless.  The Foundation got its dues from those in the know and the ignorant alike.

            This was how the senator found most of the staff that now raced around his office.  Capable individuals grateful to the senator, and his family foundation, for the leg up.  Eager to make a name for themselves.  And good at what they did.

            It was crunch time on the latest bill sponsored by the senator. The tragic death of one of his close associates, head of a DC law firm that lobbied heavily for this bill, added an unforeseen wrinkle to the fast track for passage of the bill.  Nevertheless that staff worked tirelessly to smooth the wrinkle and proceed.  Amidst the clamor, however, the senator seemed distracted.  He glanced at the clock several times his aides noted, as if counting down the time to an important event or meeting.  The senator usually made others check their clocks to be ready for his visits.

            But not today.  Only his chief of staff, Trevor Jacobs knew the real reason for his distraction.  Senator Lewis was meeting with Sebastian today. 

            Sebastian Hart was a friend of the Lewis family.  He clerked for one of the Justices on the Supreme Court.  Ever shrewd in the exercise of his influence, Senator Lewis had cultivated an existing family relationship between the Lewis and Hart clans to create an informal path of communication between himself and the high court.  He mentored and encouraged Sebastian, so the public took it.  Yet another benevolence of the great Murdock Gabriel Lewis.  It provided a useful front.

            At three PM sharp Sebastian entered the senator's office.  Known to most of the staff, he spoke amiably with them for a few minutes as the senator finished a discussion with his chief of staff.  Everyone who knew Sebastian Hart knew he would go places.  Charismatic, intelligent, ambitious, and talented, for him the sky was not even a limit.  His work reflected his meticulous planning and attention to detail.  His justice loved him, and confided much more to him than previous clerks.  Sebastian would go from here to any law firm in the country.  A judgeship waited him in not many years, and from there, he would likely be a candidate for the high court itself.  In Hart were found the perfect ingredients for success, and he knew it.

            "The Senator can see you now Mr. Hart," said the chief of staff as he stepped out of the office.  The he added, "Thank you for waiting."

            "Not at all Trevor.  It's a big week for all of you after all."

            Trevor smiled him through the door, both of them knowing full well why the smile did not reach Trevor's eyes.

            Senator Murdock sat in his oversized chair behind his desk, partway turned away from Sebastian and the door.  Despite the many times he had entered the office, Sebastian still grudgingly admired the image portrayed.  Any office in the Hart Building held prestige, it was the office of a sitting senator after all.  But Senator Lewis and company succeeded in adding to the overwhelming effect.  The elegant yet tasteful furnishings and accoutrements of this office came from the Lewis family personal collection.  The room was specifically designed to subtly dazzle visitors, displaying the trappings that only came with true power.  And it worked.

            The senator always appeared immaculate, as if just coming from a fresh shower, shave and dressing.  Nothing ever appeared out of place, again an important part of the image he had to maintain.  Never ruffled or rushed.  Always exactly in control.  He appeared that way right now.   

            Yet Sebastian also took meticulous care in his appearance.  He knew that his suit would be recognized as understated but expensive, perfect for his role, yet still declaring that he came from fortune.  He projected a sense of elitism, yet not so much as to annoy or offend.  More he gave the impression of the benevolent benefactor.  He knew his position and his bearing and attitude showed it.  He felt equal to the man behind the desk.

            "One should never sit with his back toward a door, Senator," opened Sebastian.  "It gives the impression that you do not take visitors seriously, and it could be dangerous if the visitor has malicious intentions!"
            The fact that Sebastian spoke as if to an equal was noted and ignored in the same moment.

            "Michelle Griffith was a good woman, and she will be missed."

            It was a simple and quiet statement by Senator Lewis.  Sebastian paused momentarily in the act of sitting, uninvited of course.

            "Yes, she will be missed."

            The silence hung in the air for a moment.  Then the senator deliberately changed the tone of the meeting.

            "Why Sebastian?  Why did you do it?"

            The Senator's bluntness and level tone momentarily surprised Sebastian.  He expressed no doubt of Sebastian's involvement in the death of their colleague.  The senator clearly surmised, correctly, that Sebastian was at the heart of the matter.  He wasted no time with accusations, he hit the point hard and fast.  The cowboy at work again, and the troubling thing to Sebastian was that it threw him off-balance even though the tact was not totally unexpected.  The delivery of the question perhaps.  He reminded himself that the senator was a skilled player in this game of theirs; he had a record of success within the organization even more remarkable than his public record.

            Sebastian had no answer prepared for that direct question so he chose to remain silent.  Only then did he recognize that his silence shouted his complicity in the death of his predecessor.  Sebastian decided that it was not going well.  He allowed himself to fidget in his seat, adjusting his suit coat unnecessarily.

            Slowly the senator turned his chair to face his guest.  He did not buy the fidgeting at all.  He did not have to remind himself of the skills of his opponent, for that was how he viewed Sebastian. 

            "So what now?" he mused rubbing a hand over a suddenly tired face.  Sebastian saw the signal that this would be a working discussion.

            "You mean the collaboration you and Michelle worked on?" queried Sebastian.

            "Yes, the collaboration that Michelle and I worked on.  The collaboration that continues a tradition that has gone on since your great-grandpa and my grandpa started it," replied the senator with some sharpness.  "Two projects that have worked so well together over the years.  I think that it will be wise to continue that, don't you agree?"

            Sebastian flushed at the patronizing tone.  "I see no reason to discontinue our relationship.  The only difference is that now you will be talking to me, not through me to another."  He had thought all of this through long ago.  The senator should be aware of that and just accept the fact that he truly was prepared.

            "Michelle and I talked together much more than I ever talked with you.  We had good reason to, our occupations demanded it.  Your occupation had little to do with the day to day operation of either of our lives.  You will need to develop another line of communication for us.  If you start coming to my office on a weekly or daily basis now it will set off red flags all over the place."  It seemed that the senator felt determined to nitpick the newest caretaker.

            "I am aware of that and already have the essentials in place."  Sebastian smiled as he handed over a small smart phone.  When the senator did not reach for it, he shrugged and laid it on the desk.  "It is time for you to truly enter the digital age, Senator."

            Lewis left the phone untouched on his desk as he leaned forward.  "Is this secure?  If you think that I am ignorant of how we use and extract information from 'secure digital communication' you are a fool.  Do not make the mistake of thinking me a figurehead, Sebastian.  I was playing this game when your father screwed up.  I had to pull him out of the fire to save my own skin.  I will not do that for you."

            The rebuke stung Sebastian.  The humiliation suffered by his father hung over his success.  He had spent most of his life trying to exorcise that demon.  Anger simmered inside him, anger that he tamped down roughly.

            "The phone is merely one means of communication.  Our people will monitor security.  Couriers have worked in the past and will work again."  Why did the old fool waste his time with this nonsense?  It was annoying to say the least.  At that moment Sebastian did not fully consider that annoyance might be exactly what the senator hoped for.

            The senator spoke again, slowly and distinctly, "When this bill passes we will have to coordinate closely to make sure that nothing gets dropped.  Timing is critical.  We will have a window of sometimes just hours to clear out our assets before law enforcement moves in on the targeted accounts.  If we drop the ball we will lose a lot of money, clean money that we need for our work."

            The senator referred to his all important spending bill that would pass that week.  One innocuous amendment to the bill served his purposes precisely.  It allowed law enforcement officials to seize international accounts where criminal conspiracy was shown.  The key was that the funds in said accounts would, be shared, by law, with any and all international police agencies in the event of account seizure.  This would hold true even if those accounts were inside the US, thus ensuring the compliance of police organizations all over the world.  The targets of this amendment were the current crop of uncooperative drug lords in Latin America.  By offering a take of the funds seized in the U.S., even corrupt police organizations would fall in line.  A side benefit, this allowed their organizations more ease to move much more rapidly against drug runners not complying with their will.

            "We do want to clean house but not shut ourselves down doing it," continued the senator.

            Again, there was silence.  The senator leaned back in his chair, picking up the phone in the process. 

            "Has your organization accepted your new role?"

            Sebastian recognized the genuineness of the question, and answered quickly.  "Absolutely.  There will be no problems on my end.  Things should move even more smoothly than they have in the past.  Are we done here?"  Sebastian started to rise.

            "I guess so," said the senator.  Then he dropped the other shoe.  "Was it Ritter?"

            For the second time in ten minutes Sebastian was startled.  First the outright question why he had killed his predecessor, now this.  He could not reply, but only stood mutely with his mind suddenly whirling. 

            "He is a useful man, a valuable tool."  The senator rose and looked Sebastian straight in the eye as he took his hand, "I am sure that Ritter will be as loyal to you as he was to Michelle."

            Sebastian was stunned.  Did the senator actually have the gall to threaten him in his moment of triumph?  He was here as an equal, and the youngest Caretaker by far.  Yet this fossil dared to mock and ridicule him to his face.  How dare he!  He seethed and the anger showed clearly, but did not care.  He already held plans for this fool's demise.  Then he would control both organizations cleanly.  He quickly realized his disadvantage in allowing the senator to know his emotions.  He breathed deeply and swallowed several times.

            "Good," said the senator, smiling with contempt. "You cannot act out in rage.  I needed to see you control your temper.  We will work together.  I don't much like you and I know that you hate me.  You have youth to my age.  With patience you will have the whole thing.  But if you cannot control your anger and keep your dislike of me in check, you could bring both organizations down around us."

            Sebastian remained silent. 

            "I had to know if you could pass that test.  I understand how you feel, that one was given to me once upon a time and I think that I still hate that particular teacher.  But we found a way to work together for our mutual benefit.  That is what we need to do now."

            He led Sebastian to the door, and ushered him out.

            Trevor returned to the inner office in moments.  He spoke almost before he closed the door.  "How did it go, Boss?"

            Trevor often spoke to his mentor that way.  With folks inside the organization the senator allowed a certain leeway with personal closeness.  Never flippancy, but a degree of informality often helped him he discovered.

            The Senator sat down slowly at his desk.  "That young man just may be the most dangerous fellow I have ever met."

            "He is ambitious and impatient, a bad combination," Trevor growled as he moved to the chair so recently vacated by the target of his vitriol.  "He is a disaster waiting to happen.  He does not belong in any organization, let alone as Caretaker."

            The senator gave Trevor a penetrating look and shook his head, "If he did not belong, he would not be there.  He is ambitious, but so is anyone who sits as a caretaker.  He also has a great degree of talent and patience.  He showed that working his way out from under his father's shadow.  That took years and he is still very young.  No, he is patient and dedicated.  What he lacks is experience."

            The senator turned his chair to look out the window, his eyes suddenly far away.  "Sebastian may be the most talented player this game has seen.  His talents, ambition, ruthlessness and determination will serve him and the organization well.  The one thing he lacks is experience.  He still sees his point of view as the best point of view.  He sees himself above everyone else.  No one else has ideas equal to his own."

            He refocused his gaze on Trevor, adopting a sort of teaching mode.  Trevor recognized this as a learning moment, a time when the senator would pass on a gem of wisdom.  "That is what makes Sebastian truly dangerous.  In time he will learn that his point of view may be just one of many equally valid ideas, ideas that his peers hold.  He will learn to accept and use the ideas of others, especially when they are superior to his own.  But until he learns this he is a problem.  He will only seek to subdue or destroy any ideas not his own, and he just proved that he is not above eliminating people outright if he sees them as obstacles."

            Trevor sat forward in his chair, fixing the senator with an urgent gaze.  "We could take steps to fix that problem," he said hopefully.  "We can fall back on the same solution that he just used."

            Trevor had hated Sebastian for years.  They both had grown up in the D.C. area, attending the same schools.  Although very talented in his own right, Trevor always seemed to be upstaged by Sebastian's accomplishments.  When the senator presented Trevor with the opportunity to join the organization the younger man had jumped at the chance, seeing it as his window to finally upstage the arrogant Sebastian, even if the other might never know. 

            Upon discovering that Sebastian worked within a parallel organization, and that he already held a position of great influence and had for years, Trevor's resentment and dislike had solidified into an intense hatred of the man.  The senator knowingly used that hatred to his advantage. 

            Trevor proved an able foil against many of Sebastian's efforts.  Always eager to search out the faults and weaknesses of the other man, Trevor scrutinized any and all information on or related to Sebastian or his activities.  And remarkably enough, Trevor was honest enough to recognize and admit the true merit of those plans.  He might even admit that Sebastian was superior in many ways, not that he deserved it.  Merit and talent were wasted on Sebastian, so Trevor thought.  Only occasionally, Trevor would grudgingly admit to Sebastian's greatness. 

            But Trevor knew that great men had fallen or been caused to fall before.  And he also knew that it was easier to destroy than to build.  So for the moment Trevor was content with his self appointed mission to destroy Sebastian Hart.  Confident that he would bring the other man down.  Trevor definitely was a good man for the Senator to have aboard.  But he still needed guidance and tempering.

            "Let's hold that one in reserve for now," responded the Senator thoughtfully.  "Keep watching him, and keep our people on their toes.  We still can use him and it may work out in the end."

            That was not what Trevor wanted to hear.  He almost exploded.  "Senator Lewis!  When you have an infection or cancer you attack it aggressively now, you cannot give it time to spread!  With all due respect if you think that he has not already laid plans for your removal than you are a fool.  I am scared of the man, you should be too.  Ms. Griffith proved to be a powerful and skilled leader and look where that got her.  As you just said, Sebastian does not value anything not his own.  He does not value you.  You are now his biggest obstacle!"

            The Senator showed some surprise at Trevor's vehemence.  "Simmer down, Trevor.  I do not intend to sit still and do nothing.  I am also concerned about Sebastian.  My hesitation at doing things directly is that he probably, no undoubtedly, expects us to attempt that.  I am sure that he has taken steps already to deal with any such efforts.  And it will take time to overcome his countermeasures."

            The senator leaned back in his chair, adopting a thoughtful attitude.  "Sebastian's tactic is effective, but wasteful.  I would put in motion another tactic.  You do not have to kill a man to ruin him.  Remember that." 

            The senator sat silently for almost a full minute.  Trevor clearly showed his strong desire to convince his boss of the reality of their threat.  He held his tongue knowing that it may well offend the senator to continue to insist that in this he was wrong.  Trevor had just decided to start planning action against Sebastian on his own when the senator, as if reading his mind, partially relented.

            "Maybe it is best if you start to look at a way to take Sebastian down.  It is what he would expect and it may work as camouflage for anything else we do.  Dominic and Jeff are mine, but the rest of the crew is yours to work with.  Make sure they are clean Trevor; they are the first ones that Sebastian will try to subvert.  Even use that against him if you can.  Work out a plan and get it to me by next week."

            "Okay Boss," said a relieved Trevor.  At least he had made his boss and mentor see sense.  "What else do you have in mind if you don't mind me asking?"  Adding quickly as he saw his boss's face, "Maybe we can dovetail some things."

            "Trevor, you will be watched like a hawk.  I am counting on you to draw attention away from anything else that I am doing.  I will put this in motion for now, and then bring you in when the ball gets rolling.  Right now, you have enough work to do."

            Trevor walked silently toward the door, his face showing clearly that he took the dismissal as a rebuke.  The senator watched, sad to have disappointed the boy so much but the truth be told he was just seeing an idea glimmer now, he did not have enough details to trust it to anybody yet.

            The senator uncomfortably admitted that Sebastian had him scared, and that he would do pretty much anything to keep himself alive and in power.  It was past time to regain lost ground. 

            He stood up and walked around his desk to pace through the middle of his office.  He always thought better on his feet for some reason.

            He genuinely worried that Sebastian had already co-opted people in his organization.  He would do the same if the roles were reversed.  In point of fact he had people in place in Sebastian's organization.  If he tried a direct retaliation against him, the plan would likely be known by Sebastian within the hour and then he would use that information against the senator. 

            The senator needed another tactic, a previously unused tactic.  It might involve using outside personnel, people who could not have been co-opted by Sebastian.   This created dangers, but that could not be helped.  The reward outweighed the risk.  His original idea continued to gel, and he liked what he saw.  It might actually speed up the recruitment of key people who he could then count on and trust.  He would need ambitious and capable people, and then he would bring them along by letting them in, in a controlled manner, on the plan of the organization. 

            As part of his collaboration with Michelle Griffith they had shared information on their respective activities.  It was the ultimate sign of trust amongst them.  To let someone in on the take, to let them know of the activities that took place, unknown, under the noses of just about everybody. 

            The key to beating Sebastian was in the shared records he now possessed.  Both he and Michelle had gone to elaborate lengths to ensure that the shared records could not fall into unwanted hands, especially Sebastian's.  After Michelle's abrupt death his first steps had been to secure said records. 

            Now, if the senator put the right people to review those records, people not now directly connected to him, they should be able to uncover enough evidence to implicate Sebastian Hart in criminal activity.  Then, should just enough of that evidence become public, he could use it to intimidate Sebastian. 

            How to do it?  Through the Lewis Foundation he knew there were always people ready to bring into the organization.  Fresh faces that could not have been suborned by Sebastian.  Dominic and Jeff would review possible candidates and make recommendations.  Time may not permit as thorough an evaluation as normally done prior to admission to the inside group.  But Trevor was right; they had no time to waste.

            The senator sat back in his chair and leaned back.  He had a plan and would put it into motion.  Avenues of safety and escape opened up for him now.  That was one of the objects of the game after all, stay alive. 

            To have power one had to be alive and able to exercise it.  He would defend his life and power at all cost.  There were no heroes in this game.  Self preservation was key.  No one willingly gave their lives for the team in this work.  People won when they where present to spend the wealth inevitably accumulated from their work.

            He would survive this challenge as he had survived all the others he had faced in his career.  True this time the reaction required quicker movement than previously.   But here, time trumped all others.

            Risk needed to be taken when time was limited and the stakes were this high.  He could not hesitate.  Quick action in this case was better than no action, or so he thought.

Chapter Three

            The runners in the Asbury Park half marathon were in the home stretch.  One runner near the front drew the attention of a red haired girl.  "Come on Paul!" she cried out when she saw him.

            The runner heard that perfect voice.  Having pushed himself earlier in the race his stride had started to lag.  He saw her face in the crowd as she jumped up and down in excitement.  She knew his times as well as he did and saw the opportunity that presented itself.  Her enthusiasm was contagious.  A burst of adrenaline came at the sound of the call and a smile appeared on his face.  The runner picked up his pace.  For his girl, Paul Morris would set a personal record in this half marathon.  With Sue watching it was well worth the extra effort. 

            He ran strong the last mile, all the way to and across the finish line.  The crowd clapped around him, always appreciative of a strong finish.  He received his finishers medal and had barely unclipped the runner ID tag before Sue bowled him over with a hug and kiss.

            Her hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a stylish running suit she might have been one of the runners.  Her trim form showed her devotion to physical fitness, but her background fell more into dance than running.  Still she took every effort to maintain top form.

            "You beat your previous best by more than five minutes," she cried.  He just smiled back "It got me back to you that much quicker."  He knew it was a terrible line even as he said it, but with Sue that did not matter.  For some reason she loved his horrible lines. 

            At first glance, the word that popped universally to mind when people saw Paul Morris was ordinary.  Just under 6 feet tall, brown eyes, brown hair, he fit the most basic and common description of the average American male.  He would disappear in any crowd.  But when people got to know him, they found the difference. 

            A Princeton graduate student, still on full scholarship from the Lewis Foundation, Paul tended to excel in all that he did.  Shortly he would finish his school work at Princeton and already had acceptance letters from Harvard, Yale, and Columbia Law schools.  He could take his pick.  That achievement gave proof to his abilities.

            Raised in rural Pennsylvania, Paul learned hard work on a family farm.  His parents had died when he only a toddler, leaving him to be raised by his uncle.  A good man, Uncle Matt believed in developing talents through hard work, and taught the boy to respect work and profit from it.  Old fashioned in his views and his values, Matt Morris had raised the boy well.

            No effort was spared on the young man.  Once his academic abilities surfaced, Uncle Matt insisted that he put them to good use.  Paul learned to respect his talents and abilities as gifts from providence, gifts to be used the right way.  Naturally, he excelled.

            That excellence showed in his High School work and earned him a prestigious scholarship from the Lewis Foundation to the university of his choice.  Paul chose Princeton.

            His uncle's cancer got him involved in the athletic side of his development.  Although not excelling in any particular sport Paul always exercised and built his fitness, his favorite pursuits being swimming and running.  Naturally he built endurance.  Marathons became an enjoyable sideline for him.

            The early losses in his life caused Paul to develop a  depth of character that other young men lacked.  Coupled with the example of his uncle, who always strove to be the best friend and neighbor to others, it came as no surprise that this ordinary appearing young man showed great promise and character at a young age.

            His uncle lived long enough to see him enter college.  Life became more difficult for Paul once his uncle died.  But with characteristic force he threw himself at the challenge.  He chose a double major of History and Politics.  And in his sophomore year, he met Sue.

            For all his accomplishments Paul always felt awkward around the girls.  Paul admired girls from afar, and even though he recognized that the admiration was mutual in more than a few cases he never felt comfortable when around them.  His natural abilities seemed to flee in the presence of the fairer sex, and he constantly made stupid and awkward comments.  Sue had seen past his awkwardness and shyness, and had become the life long friend that Paul so earnestly sought.  He felt comfortable with her and she thawed out the stiffness that always plagued him.  Impish and full of life, she filled a void that Paul had not fully recognized before. 

            Sue came from old money, and her parents were not quite sure of this middle class upstart.  From the beginning, Paul seem suspect, an interloper, perhaps not quite good enough for Sue.  He showed promise true, but that came in the future.  Their daughter would marry someone more prestigious now, with the right connections already in place.  Sue's mother was not interested in the future potential but in the current social, economic, and even political clout that one wielded. 

            The Reynolds raised their daughter to be a great and strong woman.  And so she was.  She clearly showed it to them when she and Paul informed them of their engagement.  That night had been stormy and loud, but Sue had firmly put her foot down to her parents telling them that ultimately the choice was hers to make, and hers alone.  After that night their engagement proceeded smoothly and now they were to be married in two short months.

            Sue wrinkled her nose as Paul put his arm around her.  "Hail the conquering hero, but you need a bath!" she declared but still pulled his arm back down as he tried to remove it.  Again, Paul marveled at his good fortune.

            Fortune that would change.  Not far away two others observed Paul's big finish.

            "Not a bad time," remarked the bigger of the two in a slow southern drawl.

            "Not a bad friend either," chuckled the other.  His accent showed New York City Italian immigrant through and through.  "I never took much interest in all these races, except to watch the cute runners."

            The big man nodded silent agreement with his smaller companion.  They watched the unsuspecting couple walk away together.  They already knew that Paul would stop to pick up his sweatshirt.  It would take him a little time to dig through the piles of clothing discarded by runners at the starting line.  They could take their time as they walked back to their car. 

            They were already in their own car when Paul and Sue reached her BMW.  The two watched as Paul held the driver door for Sue then walked around to the passenger side. 

            "Always the gentleman," came the slow drawl from the bigger man.  More informed than his companion he had a better idea of what to might happen to this young man.  It troubled him a little, this kid looked like good people.  The stray thought hit him that it was odd for him to feel this way about his work after all these years, but odd or not, that was what he felt.  This young man had just become a pawn in the Game.

Chapter 4

            Derek Hodges found his grade on the class report and was unsurprised, but still pleased.  He still held the top score in the class, by two tenths of a percent.  The last test had been the hardest of the semester, but he proved equal to that task.  There was reason for Derek to have the Lewis Presidential Scholarship.  His goal was to graduate Magna Cum Laude, then fast track himself to a CFO or COO slot in a Fortune 100 company.  He studied Economics and Finance and knew he held top honors in either category.  He was already well on his way to accomplishing the first part of the goal which would make the second so much more achievable.

            He slung his backpack over his shoulder and moved down the hall.  Taking the steps in the stairwell two at a time he quickly reached ground level and moved out into the sunlight.  His roommate Rob waited for him by the fountain in front of the building.  They set off across campus toward their apartment, eager for a quick lunch then looking forward to a leisurely afternoon.  Not a common occurrence this close to finals.

            Born to a single mother, and raised in a trailer park, Derek decided early that he would do better with his life.  Financial stability and independence were much more desirable then scarce survival.  He wanted the good things in life for himself, thing denied him in earlier life.

            His mother had worked forever as a waitress at a local truck stop, then as a cashier at a convenience store.  She seemed unable to hold down any other job.  Somehow in her mind she lacked ability or even worthiness for any job over minimum wage. 

            Which was why she held her son in such awe.  He clearly showed his intellectual abilities at an early age, and from the pre-teen years on Derek took a leadership role in his family.  His mother rarely questioned his decisions and by the time he reached high school he ran the family finances and schedule, budgeting both his mother’s income and any money he brought in from his own work. 

            He took a long view of things and recognized going into high school that he could not fool around.  So he didn't.  It frustrated him that so many others wasted their time without gain.  He never had a steady girlfriend, they were not his caliber of people.  He recognized who he could be and hence who he would be.  His lowly station and birth were not necessarily mistakes, but challenges that he determined to overcome. 

            Never a star athlete, he focused his interest in the scholastic and surpassed the bar in every case.  He sought for and gained attention from prestigious universities and foundations early on, almost more for his ambition and drive than for his scholastic achievements.  His choice for the Lewis Presidential Scholarship was assured midway through his Junior year.  Here was a mover, someone on the climb.

            At the university he finally found his people.  He thrived under the influence of worthy competition.  He quickly became known as a winner, someone to tie a string to if at all possible.  He would achieve his dreams and his goals. 

            His step was light as he walked to his apartment.  He talked with his roommate and other classmates, who were beginning to hold him in the same awe as his mother, and joked as he went along.  He never even noticed the parked car with the two occupants quietly observing him.

            “This one will be perfect for the job,” came the New York accent. 

            “He has the ambition, and the desire for money, but he is kind of one dimensional” replied the southern drawl.

            “Jeff, this kid is probably going places the likes of us will only see in the movies.”  The New Yorker, Dominic, had just finished reading the essays that Derek had written on his scholarship application to the Lewis Foundation.  “He is ruling class right out of Plato’s Republic.”  Dom had recently done some reading of his own and liked to show off how he worked to improve himself, often quoting snippets from or referring to books he found profound.

            “Yeah Dom.  He will fit into the senator’s plan nicely.”  And Jeff knew this was the truth.  He found himself wondering how this kid might turn out a little different if he had faced more than just financial challenges in his life.

            Jeff watched the group of students as they entered the door to their apartment building.  He sighed, “We will get him, and then he becomes part of the organization.  And in five years we will take our marching orders from him.”

            Dominic laughed.  “We are the hands of the organization.  They need us, and the Senator uses us more often than any of his other worker bees.”  He punched his partner good naturedly in the arm.

             Jeff gave Dom a lopsided grin.  “Still, I kind of want to respect the folks I work for.  Makes it easier to do the hard stuff.”

            Jeff, the southerner, turned the car on and drove off toward their hotel on the other side of town.  After a few minutes he offered his idea to his partner.

            “Put Hodges and Morris together, I think.  They will do it right.  Burnett and Szarny are good, but I like what I see with the others.”

            “Why Morris?” asked Dominic.  “He seems like one who might not be compatible with the organization at all.  He just might have a moral streak, you know what with his uncle and all.”  He referred to the church going habit of Matt Morris, one that Paul still regularly maintained.

            “That could be our biggest strength with him.  Those kind become the most dedicated to the cause, and can be easy to manipulate.  They just have to see us in the right light.”

            “Until they find out the whole truth.  Then we have to eliminate a lot of them, and do it quickly.  Morals can be a serious detriment to our work.”  Dom spoke quietly reflecting on the last emergency they had been called to clean up.

            “I have morals Dom,” came the reply.

            “Yeah, but you don’t let them get in your way.  When the job needs doing, you do it.”  Dom shrugged.

            The casualness of the statement caught Jeff off guard. 

            He suddenly wondered, was he being objective about Morris?  Something about the kid made him think of himself.  He had once been young and ambitious, and had the world before him.  His skills included a decidedly more physical setup, but he excelled in his own right.  He had chosen the military and had far outperformed any of his peers.  He was smart, and practical in nature.  One of Senator Lewis’ cousins, career military, had seen his potential and recommended him for recruitment. 

            At first he had resisted the darker aspects of the organization, but the Senator had eventually explained to his satisfaction that what they were doing was not wrong.  It was actually necessary.  In select cases the ends truly did justify the means.  If the end result was noble enough, do what it took and get the job done. 

            That had been Jeff’s motto for the past 15 years.  He had earned the Senator's trust completely, and he knew that he was one of the few men who could stand toe to toe with men like Ritter and have a fighting chance.  Hence his value to the boss.  Dominic was a street tough ex con recruited by Jeff years ago, after they had become acquainted through a halfway house program sponsored by the Lewis Foundation.  One had to have multiple recruiting pools to fill all the personnel needs for the organization. 

            But this current job had caused some unwelcome recollections to surface.  He had indeed done some things in the past fifteen years of which he was not proud.  These things had changed him from the idealistic youth to the more cynical man he was today.  The same would likely happen to Morris and the others, and he felt a pang off loss at that thought.  He wondered again how a work seeking the good the Senator espoused could damage people and change them the way it did.

            He recognized that he still had a conscience, and though dull, it reacted occasionally to what he did.  The senator told him that it was actually one of his strengths.  He told the senator about his misgivings, if you worked for the man, you told him everything.

            Maybe it was just that he saw so much of himself in Paul that he lost objectivity about the situation.  He wanted Paul in because of the personal similarities.  Yes, a small part of him held back, recognizing that recruitment would change Paul's life and force him to eventually do things that he regretted.  Necessary things yes, but still unfortunate ones.  But Paul had the talent that they needed.  He had the personality that Jeff liked.

            Still, a small voice piped in from the back of Jeff's mind, why should someone have to abandon the idealism of youth?  He answered the errant thought brutally, because the world was not ideal, and you had to face the world on its terms, not your own.  He shook himself out of his reverie.

            Jeff knew that he would give his recommendation to the Senator, Morris and Hodges working as a team would fit the requirements that this new task required.  The Senator would bring the two talented young men on board and use this project as a recruiting tool.  And Paul and Derek would start down the path so many followed before them.  But he would keep an eye out for Paul Morris, he seemed just too good a kid for this, but his talents were required.  He would shelter him however he could and for as long as he could though, it was the least he could do at this point.

Chapter 5

            Paul’s phone buzzed in the middle of his Comparative Political Economy lecture startling him so much he jumped.

            His professor noticed.

            “So good of you to rejoin us Mr. Morris.  I do apologize for boring you so much that you felt your time better served by sleeping.  I shall endeavor to make my lectures more entertaining in the future”

            Red faced Paul replied, “I am sorry Ma’am.  I wasn’t asleep.  It isn’t your lecture, it’s my phone, it startled me.”  He realized the admission was a mistake as soon as he spoke.

            His professor's glower pierced him over her glasses.  “Then turn the annoying thing off before class.  I do seem to remember offering that piece of advice earlier in the semester.  In fact I do believe that it was more in the nature of a request that an offering of advice”

            “Sorry ma’am.  It won’t happen again,” Paul stammered sheepishly.

            “See that it doesn’t Mr. Morris.  Shall we continue?”

            Without waiting for an answer she returned to her lecture. Paul fished his phone out of his pocket, holding it as best he could under his table, out of view of the annoyed instructor and checked to see his message.

            The message did not come from his normal group of friends and it took him a moment to recognize that it came from the Lewis Foundation.  They wanted to meet with him later in the week if it could be arranged.  He quickly sent his reply, setting up an appointment for the following day.  One did not keep their financial backer waiting, not if one wanted said backing to continue. 

            He pondered on the appointment through the remainder of his lecture.  So far as he knew he was up to date on all his letters of report on his academic achievement to the foundation.  He wondered what they would want in tomorrow’s meeting.  Paul could think of no negative reason for the meeting, but still a feeling of trepidation came.  This meeting came at an odd time and did not fit the bill for routine operations with the Foundation.  He did his best to dismiss the feeling by telling himself he would know soon enough.

            Part of his agreement with the foundation involved his creation of educational reports, but it did not stop there.  The scholarship board regularly reviewed the progress of each of the recipients of their largess.  Their requirements included much more that just a letter and a grade report.  The board required case studies of classes and teachers, article reviews, opinion write ups on current events, and a great deal of ‘volunteer work’ at the local foundation offices. 

            At times Paul found the requirements and attention a little disconcerting, but the Lewis Scholarships covered it all; tuition, room and board, books and materials, and a living stipend.  They were probably the most sought after private scholarship in the nation. 

            He felt lucky as well in that the Lewis Foundation proved more than helpful in finding opportunities for their scholarship recipients.  Once you held a Lewis Scholarship you could just about assume that you had made it through your retirement and beyond.  The fact that he held one of those coveted awards had been the principle mollifying factor to Sue’s parents that night that they had steamrolled through their engagement announcement.  That meant that at least Paul would be a somebody, and not too far out in the distant future.

            As the lecture ended he ducked out of the class, avoiding a further admonition from his professor.  She genuinely liked Paul and was serving on his thesis committee.  She expected Paul to shine and never seemed to waste a moment to counsel and correct him.  She was probably one of the top five professors in her field in the nation, in whichever poll you checked.  He know he was fortunate to be one of her favorites, but he still did not want to spend the next fifteen minutes getting chewed out by her for the cell phone sin he had committed.

            Across campus another student received a similar call.  Derek sat in his cubicle at the library studying for his Behavioral Finance class when he got the call from the Lewis Foundation.  He did not think anything of the invite. 

            Once the appointment was set for the two young men the admin placed a call to the cell of Senator Murdock Lewis.  She gravely informed him that he had an early afternoon meeting scheduled for the following day out of the local office.  He graciously thanked her, aware of her awe at speaking to him directly.  Normally she talked with Trevor.  But it paid great dividends to occasionally mingle with the little people.

            The Senator smiled.  Aboard one of the family jets, they had several, he would arrive in his hometown of Trenton in just a few minutes.  He traveled with Trevor and was here to set in motion his own personal plan.  Already briefed on the two new recruits he asked the admin to set up a late lunch for Trevor and the boys as he thought of them, at a local restaurant.  He would join them there.

            Thus, the ball began to roll.  Not even the senator knew just how far it would eventually travel, nor the effect if would ultimately have on so many lives.

Chapter 6

            Paul felt uncomfortable with the whole situation.  At the appointed time he arrived at the Foundation offices for his quickly schedule meeting.  The foundation offices were a thoroughly modern building set in a suburb of Trenton.  The three story building held a library, an auditorium and ample room for many offices and conference rooms.  It was clearly built to be both functional and inviting.  It proved a gift from the Lewis Family to the community, a thank you for the cordiality and the love that the Lewis' tended to enjoy.

            The arrival of Derek Hodges and the revelation that he too would share in the appointment only deepened the mystery for Paul.  Both were dressed in business suits, looking like nothing more than young business man waiting for an important meeting.  Although they did not know it, the young receptionist took her time so as to enjoy the company of the two obvious up and coming, good looking, young men.  She gravely informed them of their planned itinerary for the afternoon, something that impressed her and perplexed Paul all the more. 

            The fact that they would meet first with Trevor Jacobs, the chief of staff for the great Senator Murdock Lewis, and then they would be having lunch with said senator cemented his unease.  Talented though they were, a Senator and his chief of staff did not take this type of interest in two university students for purely academic reasons.  Paul sensed an undercurrent.

            Now he found himself across the table from arguably one of the most powerful people in the country. 

            The Senator liked Chinese so they sat in a secluded corner of the best Chinese restaurant in the city.  Apparently the restaurant knew the senator from his many visits and were more than ready at short notice to arrange privacy for their most prominent guest.  He proved to be the most gracious of hosts.

            Over a fantastic lunch he spoke with them as if they were lifelong friends.  He surprised both Derek and Paul with his knowledge of their lives and accomplishments.  Obviously the senator was well acquainted with their foundation scholarship files.  The senator was downright folksy with them, all designed to set them at ease of course.  Trevor seemed mostly to be enjoying an entertaining show, or perhaps enjoying a particularly effective demonstration.

            The Senator was nothing if not perceptive.  He noted Paul's unease almost from the start, and even guessed the source for the unease.  As their lunch wound down he asked pointedly to Paul, "What is making you uncomfortable Paul?"

            Paul was grateful for the question.  He had made up his mind that he would ask the questions that were on his mind, but failed to see how he could do so with any tact.  The Senator's question provided his opening.

            "I am grateful for the chance to meet with you and for your consideration of me for this research project that Mr. Jacobs told us about.  But I must say that I am at a loss to explain why you are here personally to start us off on this type of a project.  Why are you involved, sir?  Mr. Jacobs could easily have started us on this, but even that is totally unneeded.  I mean neither one of you needed to come for this.  The local foundation director could have given us this job.  Why did you either of you, let alone both of you, take the time to meet with us, and even have lunch with us over a simple research project?"

            "No disrespect intended, sir," He added belatedly.

            The larger man on the Senator's security detail chuckled at the question.  Seated at a table just behind the senator his two bodyguards had positioned themselves to be able to see and hear every word spoken at the table.  The larger man had taken a marked interest in Paul.  Paul just figured that if he were to try anything like attacking the senator with his chopsticks that the bigger man would be the one to blow large holes through Paul with the oversized handgun that he carried in his belt.  The chuckle showed that he appreciated the question, and the wink to Paul showed him that he need not worry, too much, about having holes blown through him.  At least not yet.

            The senator just smiled.  He recognized the courage Paul showed in asking such a pointed question, and recognized the perception that the young man showed, putting the odd facts together.  Derek showed some surprise at the question, but the thoughtful look that came to his face showed that he now saw the same facts that had triggered Paul's question.  The senator also saw just a shading of embarrassment that he had missed them until pointed out by Paul.  The Senator decided then and there that Jeff needed a raise for recommending Paul.

            "Yes, Jeff," the senator spoke over his shoulder to the big man, "I can see that Paul is very perceptive, as you said.  He will work out just fine."

            He then turned back to the two young men.  "Paul, I am glad for the question.  I am sure that you realize that this is no ordinary project.  There is a level of sensitivity that requires us to limit just how many people are involved at present.  For this reason it is just easier for me to start this off personally, and as he will be in town for a couple of weeks, have Trevor informally oversee it." 

            He lowered his voice, a bit theatrically, but it conveyed the point he wanted to make as he continued.  "You understand that in my line of work there is a strong need for confidentiality.  I need to play certain cards close to the chest for now.  So I limit the number of people involved.  I also am continually in the need of talented people.  That is where you come in.  I can kill two birds with one stone here."

            Trevor picked up the conversation at this point.  "Paul, Derek; the two of you are some of the most able recipients of Lewis Scholarships in years.  Your accomplishments have not gone unnoticed.  Occasionally the Lewis family will fast track talented individuals, especially when an opportunity such as this develops.  We are short on time but we need a great deal of information reviewed quickly, thoroughly, and discreetly."  Both young men noted the heavy emphasis on the last word.

            "We need a concise, but complete analysis and summary of the data.  We also need intelligent opinions and thoughts on what course of action to follow when the research and analysis are complete.  We need people who can do this now.  Our own staff is currently tasked out working on the Senator's spending bill.  So we need some fresh faces."

            The Senator again took up the discussion.  "I made the decision that now would be a good time to find more good people.  It is one of the reasons that my family has this foundation in the first place.  I asked Jeff and Dominic to look into the latest batch of scholarship recipients and your names came up, right to the top I might add."

            Derek was ecstatic.  Paul still hesitated, something still tickled his antennae.  This all seemed so well scripted, so polished, so impossible to refuse.  Something was just not right here.  But he could not yet put a finger on it.

            Again the Senator's ready smile, but this time he misinterpreted the continued hesitation.  "I know that your finals are right around the corner, but unless I miss my guess, both of you were ready for finals a month ago.  Although demanding, this assignment should not affect the outcome of your academics.  And if you still hesitate because of your upcoming wedding Mr. Morris, well I know the Reynolds family, and if Sue is anything like her mother, she already has your first anniversary arranged."

            Paul was startled that the Senator knew so much about him.  The Senator grinned and simply stated, "The Reynolds sent me an announcement.  This will merely assure you that I am present at your wedding.  Your in-laws will like that."  The last comment came delivered with a wink.  Chuckles sounded from around the table.

            Then it hit Paul, He realized what came out wrong with the pitch.  He responded, "Senator, if the assignment is sensitive enough that you would come personally to start it, and we would be reporting directly to your chief of staff, why would you trust it to two untried, students.  We have performed academically, true, but there are lots of academically talented, capable, people that I would not trust without coming to know them a little better.  You are taking a risk on us, and I am not sure I understand why you are willing to take this risk.  It makes me uneasy.  What are we getting involved in?"

            The Senator sat back in his chair, surprised at the intensity of the question.  He recognized that he had underestimated the depth of perception and thought from Paul Morris.  Two thoughts struck him simultaneously.  First, Paul would make a much better Chief of Staff than Trevor and second, that he should not include Paul in his project.  He dismissed both thoughts, but had to take time to frame a proper response.  Jeff just smiled as Dom shot him a look.

            Paul noted the lack of a smile on the Senator's face, but that only made the calculating look more visible.  Paul liked the conversation even less.

            The senator let his mind run through what he wanted to say.  This was a touchy spot to be in and would need special handling.  The insight that Paul showed necessitated a special kind of response, one that had to be carefully thought out.  Truth, the senator knew, was a potent tool; especially if one used only the right amount and applied it from the proper direction, with the proper spin.

            First the dose of truth, "There is a risk, Paul.  You have that right.  You will be researching sensitive information, and it is possible, no, it's likely that you will find something worth reporting to us.  There is, after all, a reason for us wanting this information reviewed."

            Now for the proper direction.  "In my work, in our work," the senator motioned to include all of them, "knowledge is power.  Knowing what is going on allows us to push forward our agenda.  Timing, when we make use of our information, is just as important and powerful as the information itself.  We have to have the right knowledge at the right time to be able to effect the changes that we seek.  That insures our progress."  Senator Lewis took great care to speak clearly and enunciate each word in the last statement, clearly showing the importance of what was said.

            The senator knew his skill as a master manipulator.  He gave another pause, then continued when he felt the moment was right.   He just needed a final spin to bring the idea home and correctly settle it in the minds of these young men. 

            "At times we even need to combat efforts to undermine our own.  It becomes necessary to seek out and expose, in a timely manner, illegal activities.  This is what I need you to do."

            "I have recently amassed records from several different companies, public and private, with which the Lewis Foundation and the US government have had dealings.  These records were accessed through the auspices of a Law Firm in D.C.  The head of the firm was a good friend of mine.  She died recently in an accident.  She and I worked together and had plans to review this data before her untimely death.  We feared that we might just find something rotten in the data."

            "Why have us do this now?" queried Paul.  "It seems that if there is concern about something like this it should be turned over to proper authorities."

            The senator paused in his narrative.  Too much truth too soon could be disastrous.  In order to curtail any problems the senator now needed a bit of misdirection. 

            He leaned forward and continued earnestly, "Paul, If I had anything factual that is exactly what I would do.  As soon as I have enough of the needed information I will do just that.  But remember that politics gets in the way here.  I have political adversaries that do not care for what is right, only what is expedient for their purposes.  This is a rough game that we play, the sooner you learn that the better.  I have played this game for years and understand more of the nuances than I care to think about."

            The senator felt that it needed a little more, and it never hurt to use a little bit of well directed flattery. 

            "I am coming to you and Derek because there are times when we need to take risks on people.  I believe that you are both worth that risk.

            "You are untried, but you are also unsullied.  I have to assume that you are generally good people, otherwise you would not be in the positions you are in.  So I will take the risk that you will do what is right.  And if ambition is what fuels you, there can be no quicker way for you to advance, and I am offering you significant advancement here.  I trust that these will be proper motivators for you."

            "Another opportunity like this will not come your way, Paul.  You will be helping me out, and in turn I will help you out.  Whether you like it or not, the world is a much easier place if you have my kind of help.

            "So are you in?"  He cleverly portrayed himself as the kindly, wise elder statesman, one benevolently offering a cherished opportunity to young promising beginners.

            All eyes were upon Paul, and the pressure was truly intense.  Clearly Derek was on board, only Paul hesitated.  Deep down he still felt troubled.  Even the apparently direct answers from the senator did not remove his unease completely.  For a fleeting moment he wavered, then stretched out his hand to the Senator, "Glad to be aboard, sir."

            The party returned to the foundation offices, unaware of the observer following in a rental car.  Ritter opened his cell and placed a call as he drove past the foundation parking lot.  Sebastian answered the call.

            "After his meeting with the governor," reported Ritter, "Lewis went to lunch with his staff and two men from the Lewis Foundation.  Young, probably university students.  Foundation scholars most likely.  They are back at the Foundation.  They have the fundraising dinner tonight and then they have to get back to D.C. for the committee meetings tomorrow afternoon.  Looks like just your run of the mill senatorial jaunt home."

            "Do you know who the young men were, what they talked about?" asked Sebastian.

            Ritter rolled his eyes, "Jeff Quincy was there.  The Mandarin Palace is well known to the Senator and they take steps to insure his privacy.  I didn't even try to get into the restaurant.  I would have given myself away."

            "I need to know if these two are involved with Senator Lewis," grumbled Sebastian.

            "Obviously they are," replied Ritter, "they just ate lunch with him.  If you ask me they are two scholarship winners who also got to eat with the local royalty.  At most, they're new recruits, and if that's the case, we will know soon enough."

            Sebastian remained silent on the other end of the line, although both men knew what his next question would have been.  Ritter continued, as if the question had been asked anyway, "It would be nice to know if they're part of something that the senator is cooking up against you, but neither one of us has the time or resources to check on this right now.  If they are recruits for Lewis’ team, fine we will know soon.  There are ways to get information quickly if it comes to that.  Right now I need to get home.  I have a big meeting with a client day after tomorrow.  I'll talk to you after that meeting."

            With that Ritter snapped his phone closed.  This stakeout had proved a long shot at best.  Up until now the efforts that Trevor had organized against Sebastian had hardly been clever, except that they had tied up resources that could better be used elsewhere.  Ritter knew that these two young men could be part of a clever plan from the Senator, Murdock had always been slippery and smart, but Ritter also recognized that at this point, he would not find out.  Oh well, if the need arose, he could get the information needed without too much of a mess, at least not enough of a mess to incriminate himself.

           

            After the two young men had been ushered out of the office the Senator had on the Upper floor of the Foundation Building, Trevor wasted no time voicing his misgivings.

            "I think that we drop Morris right now!" he stated flatly.  "He hesitated way too much and I don't trust him to do this right for a minute.  Seems to have too much of a conscience to be of any use to us."

            "Let's not be too hasty here," responded the senator.

            "Hasty!?" snapped Trevor losing his cool, "this whole plan is just thrown together with almost no previous thought.  You did not even let me review any case files.  I just found out on the plane yesterday that you were starting this today, with these two!"

            Even now Paul and Derek were being shown the small private office that the two would share, the windowless office with the file cabinets full of records and the two computers which were carefully maintained off the regular network.  They would be back the next day to start the 'research'.  The team decided that Derek would start with financials and that Paul would start with project histories and summaries related to the various entities represented in the materials.  They would stick to that same process during the same time frames and look for inconsistencies.  The Senator figured that it would take three days at most for them to return with their first finds.  Maybe even less time.

            "Trevor, you are playing an important role in this.  Sebastian has focused a great deal of attention on you and your efforts.  I honestly believe that you have shielded this project from his attention entirely.  If that is the case, you have gotten us halfway there!  It will only take a matter of days if not hours for those two to find the information that we seek.  They will bring it to you and we will decide what to leak out to the authorities and the press.  While Sebastian occupies himself with damage control we will move in and show him the damage that we really can do.  At that point we will have an ax over his neck and he will have lost some serious credibility.  It will destroy any chance of him sitting on the high court and make him vulnerable to his own underlings.  We can win this war in less than a month."

            "If Paul Morris doesn't screw things up!  What if he goes deep enough to dig up connections to you?  Michelle Griffith did work a great deal with you for many years.  The connections cannot be buried that deep, I think that he may find more than we want him to and them where are we?  What if he goes to the authorities instead of us?"

            "Valid questions and concerns, every one of your points," said the senator.  "We address the concerns by managing the boys.  Over the next three weeks we have ample excuse for you to work here.  The Governor is planning his technology summit, and he wants our involvement, there is the commencement address that I will give, we can even use the Reynolds/Morris wedding as an excuse to prolong your presence here, setting things up for my repeated visits.  Long before three weeks is out the two talented young men, under your guidance and direction, will have found and collated what we need.  As it is coming from the foundation and not from my office, only the players in the game will recognize what it truly is.  Terri Lynn will be monitoring every scrap of information that those young men get, and she has been part of the game longer than I have."

            The senator referred to the almost ancient secretary who was even now orienting the two newest players in the game in their new roles as worker bees for the senator in the Lewis Foundation.  It was truly likely that she would also be the one to orient them on their true roles in the real organization in not too many more years.  That was her real job, master secretary to the organization, and she relished the role she played.

            "We can handle this, Trev," stated Jeff calmly.  "The fact that Paul asked those questions is a good sign if you ask me.  He has a head on his shoulders and that will make it easier for him to see the real worth of what we are doing.  I think that today helped us bring him around that much faster.  When we bring Sebastian to heel, we can show Paul just what he helped to do.  Who knows, you may just have found a new assistant chief of staff.  You always complain about Owen now, Paul is a good prospect for replacement."

            Trevor just grumbled under his breath.  The senator came over and put his hands on Trevor's shoulders, "Son, I am sorry that I did not include you in the planning on this one.  I needed you to run interference and not look like you were running interference to Sebastian.  I need you now to make this work.  We are almost there.  I need your help.  Also recognize that I really appreciate your concern."

            Trevor looked into the older man's face.  He saw what the senator wanted him to see and acquiesced.   "Alright, I will run Paul and Derek from here.  But we re-evaluate after your return next week.  If I see any questionable signs from Morris, I pull him off!"

            "With my approval," conceded the senator. 

            "After I get your approval," agreed Trevor.

            So the die was cast.