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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment