Mr. Prime Minister
Page 50
I want Alec to change his mind. I want that glimmer of light to disappear. More than anything, I want him to change his mind because of me. He’s right about the senator deserving to die. Alec won’t change his mind because of some moral obligation to leave the senator alive, and to be honest, I don’t blame him. It’s my job to keep the senator alive, and even I’m still struggling with the morality of that.
I spent my weekend doing the research. Alec’s right; the senator awarded contracts to friends whenever he had the chance, including in his role as chair of the Appropriations Committee. He’s not even been subtle about it; not when you know where to look. Alec’s friends died because of the man I’m protecting. Alec gets the final say.
I keep looking at Alec as I step to the side and leave him a clean shot. Worst case scenario, I get bits of blood and brain on my pantsuit. And the senator would be dead. That would be bad too. But I do really love this pantsuit.
The gun is still pointed in this direction, but no shots are fired.
Come on, Alec. Do this for me. I promise I’ll fix things. I won’t let him get away with it.
The light from Alec’s gun disappears.
Thank God for that.
I breathe a sigh of relief and turn my attention back to the driver, who is having a hard time keeping Senator Robertson distracted. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do it for much longer. Sirens fill the air, as three police cars and two unmarked cars pull up beside us. Men in suits step out of the unmarked cars, while uniformed police officers keep the crowd at a distance. Elena steps out of one of the cars, but she keeps her distance.
“What’s going on?” the senator asks.
He has no idea how much trouble he’s in. He’s just annoyed that the police cars are going to hold him up and make him miss his basketball game.
“Senator Robertson, you’re under arrest for multiple counts of fraud and campaign funding violations.”
The detective handcuffs the senator even though he’s not resisting arrest. That’s probably for the public’s benefit. The white-collar crime unit hates this man almost as much as I do, and part of the fun of arresting him is destroying his public image. It’s a little cruel and vindictive, but I’m hardly going to complain in this instance.
“This is ridiculous,” Senator Robertson protests. “Every single one of you will be out of a job in the morning. You can’t just arrest a United States senator and expect to get away with it.”
They push him towards one of the cars, although they do it slowly, allowing the quickly gathering crowd to take pictures on their cellphones.
The senator keeps shouting and screaming, looking more hysterical by the minute.
Elena walks up and stands next to me. “In all the confusion, it would be a shame if someone were to—for example—punch him in the groin.”
“That would be a little petty,” I reply.
“What’s your point?”
“I don’t know.”
I smile at her, and then quickly sneak up to the senator as he’s being ushered towards a back seat.
“Looks like we’re going to have to postpone our date,” I whisper. I’m not going to punch him in the groin—I’d rather not put my hand anywhere near that thing. Not when my knee can do the job just as well. I swing my leg forward as hard as I can without it being too obvious. His deep groan in my ear is every bit as satisfying as I hoped it would be.
He practically falls into the back of the car which drives away with hundreds of cellphones pointing at it.
Hopefully, none of those phones are aimed anywhere near the parking lot.
“We have to celebrate this with a drink,” Elena says.
“I’ll meet you at Hard Times in an hour. There’s someone I need to speak to first.”
I hang back after the police have left, and wait. I know he’s coming.
Sure enough, fifteen minutes later he walks up empty handed.
“Where’s the gun?” I ask Alec.
“Dismantled it, and spread the pieces in about five different trash cans.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
We stand there a few feet apart, not touching, but looking deep into each other’s eyes.
“Elena—my detective friend—reckons they have a strong case. Senator Robertson is going away for a long time.”
“Prison is still better than he deserves.”
“True. But it’s worse than you deserve.”
“You don’t look as mad as I thought you would.”
“You didn’t go through with it.”
“I nearly did,” Alec admits. “I was so close, my finger started pulling back the trigger subconsciously. You were the only thing that stopped me.”
“I was hired to keep him safe. If I have to sleep with his assassin, then so be it.”
We both smile at each other, but then Alec furrows his brow. “What about the other death threats? From what Shauna told me, I’m not the only person who wanted him dead.”
“He faked the death threats,” I explain. Elena traced the emails back to his own computer. He didn’t even have the foresight to use a public internet connection. “He wanted to get sympathy and media attention in the run-up to his reelection campaign. That’s why he refused the help of Secret Service and got a junior police officer to be his bodyguard. He didn’t want anyone who might ask the wrong questions. He even staged a break-in at his home.”
“He’d have been better off with Secret Service. When you get a scent of something fishy there’s no throwing you off track.”
“When I want something I go for it.”
“Me too,” Alec says. “And on that note, can I walk you home?”
“No,” I reply firmly. Alec looks taken aback and I let him panic for a few seconds. Just because he did the right thing today, doesn’t mean he is innocent. It won’t do any harm to take him down a peg or two. When I think he’s had enough, I smile and place my hand in his. “We’re not going home. I have a surprise for you.”
Not just one surprise either. Alec is in for an entire evening of surprises.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alec
I don’t recognize the bar from the outside, but I recognize the name. Hard Times.
I’ve been here before, quite a few times actually. Daron and I used to come here when we were still a few years short of the legal drinking age. It was one of the only places in Chicago that would serve us. Once I was old enough, I stopped coming here as much, but Daron ended up being a regular. This was where he met some ‘friends’ who, to put it mildly, led him off track.
Now I know why we’re here. My surprise is my brother. It’s going to be incredible to see him again, but for him, it’s going to be utterly unbelievable. Literally. As far as he knows, I’ve been dead for five years. I think I look good for a dead guy.
Hard Times used to be the very definition of a dive bar, but from the outside, it’s obvious the place has changed. Inside, it’s unrecognizable. The only thing that’s stayed the same is the position of the bar. Other than that, everything is distinctly more upmarket. It’s more wine bar than dive bar. Would Daron still hang around in a place like this? I hope so. It might mean he’s changed, even if he’s changed into a pretentious hipster. At least that means he’s not in prison.
We grab a table and a waiter immediately comes over to take our drinks order. Last time I came to Hard Times, you were lucky to get a waiter to take your drink order when you were standing at the bar with a handful of cash, let alone just sitting at the table.
The waiter comes back with our drinks, and shortly after a heavily pregnant woman comes over to greet Piper. I recognize this woman—she was one of the detectives there when Senator Robertson was arrested. She was only hanging around in the background, although given her current state that’s hardly surprising.
Piper introduces us as the woman slowly lowers herself down onto a seat. “Alec, this is Elena, a
friend from work. Elena, this is Alec Costa.”
I shake her hand and force a smile. After what I’ve been up to these past few weeks, I’m still a little on edge around detectives. Piper isn’t going to arrest me, but this woman might jump at the chance. After a sip of my beer, I notice she’s still staring at me. She wouldn’t be the first woman to do that. She wouldn’t be the first married woman to do that. Hell, she wouldn’t be the first married, pregnant woman to do that. That’s not lust in her eyes, though. What has Piper told her about me?
“So you’re Alec Costa,” Elena says softly. “This is weird on so many levels.”
“Weird?” I ask. “Why?”
She smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Elena and Piper start talking about the case against Senator Robertson. Piper was right, the police have a lot of evidence against him now. Even if things don’t go well at trial, Elena is still confident he will spend at least five years behind bars. It could even be as much as ten with a bit of luck and the right judge.
“Your girlfriend is an incredible woman,” Elena says to me. “She single-handedly gathered more evidence in a couple of weeks than we were able to in a couple of years.”
“It helps that I had access to his email account,” Piper says modestly.
“Even so, you’ve got a good eye for these things. If you’re interested in white-collar crime, we should talk one day at the office. You’re a natural.”
“She’s a woman of many talents,” I add.
Elena smiles, and Piper blushes slightly. Elena checks a message on her phone, and then excuses herself, pushing herself up to her feet and waddling away in that way only pregnant women can manage.
“Sounds like you’re moving up in the world,” I say to Piper. “Reckon you’ll still have room in your life for a dead man?”
“I reckon I can squeeze you in.”
“Good, because I’ve fallen for you in a way that frankly confuses the hell out of me. I want to go out and buy a sofa, just so I can snuggle up with you on it. I want a television, so I can hold you while you watch all those God-awful TV shows. I want a coffee table, so you have somewhere to put your glass after you’ve finished chugging wine from it.”
Piper smiles and leans against me as I put my arm around her. “You’re not going to get all domesticated and start cooking proper food, are you? I really like that takeout pizza place you always buy from.”
“I’m awful in the kitchen. I think we both know my talents lie in the bedroom.”
I want to tell her something else, but I’m not sure I can bring myself to say it. It’s not that I wouldn’t mean it, or that I’m scared to say it. I’m just worried she might get her hopes up. I want to be with her, but it’s never going to lead to anything more permanent. It’s not like we’ll ever be able to get married—according to the state of Illinois, I don’t exist.
“You don’t have to stay dead,” Piper says softly. “I told Elena about you, and she has contacts who might be able to help. Obviously it wouldn’t be super above-board, but given the circumstances, she’s happy to look the other way if you want to create a new identity. After all, you might need a credit card to buy that furniture you have in mind.”
A new life? The concept once seemed so fanciful that I’d given up even dreaming about it. I had a credit card once. I made car payments and received a salary into a bank account. When I think back to those times, it’s like they were experienced by different person. If I can have a normal life again, it might mean I can have Piper in it. We can do the normal things that normal couples do.
That means I can tell her.
“I love you,” I blurt out. I’ve never said those words before, but they feel natural enough when I say them to Piper.
“I love you too,” she replies without missing a beat. It’s as if she was waiting for me to say it. “You don’t regret choosing me over getting your revenge?”
“No,” I reply honestly. “I haven’t thought about it once in the last hour. Believe it or not, that’s actually a long time for me.”
I squeeze her tightly and suddenly have a desperate urge to take her home when I remember we’re here for a reason.
“Where’s my surprise, then?”
“Looks like it’s just walked in the door.” Piper points to the entrance.
I look around and see a woman taking off her coat. She looks pregnant as well, although not as far along as Elena. Then a man walks in behind her, taking her coat, and kissing her on the cheek.
Daron.
It’s not often I get nervous, but right now my legs feel too weak to walk on.
“Does he know?” I ask Piper.
“No. No one’s told him yet.”
I force myself to my feet and walk slowly towards him. Daron’s consumed with his woman, whispering something in her ear as she laughs and slaps him playfully on the arm. I stand next to him.
“Hey, brother. It’s been a while.”
Daron turns and stares at me. I see a range of emotions flash across his eyes. Denial, anger, acceptance.
“I don’t… how?”
“Long story,” I reply.
He shakes his head and laughs, and then we hug, slapping each other on the back so much we’re going to have bruises. He’s going to find out I’ve been in Chicago for weeks and not got in touch. That won’t go down well. There’s going to be anger, but it will pass.
“Daron? What’s going on?” his lady friend asks.
“Sadie, this is Alec. My brother.”
“Your dead brother?”
“That’s the one. Alec, this is Sadie. My fiancée.”
“You’re engaged?”
“Incredibly, yes. Shit, I can’t believe this. I thought you were dead.”
“I nearly was.”
Daron shakes his head in disbelief. “Fuck… just fuck.”
We hug again and don’t stop until Daron gets dangerously close to crying.
When I arrived back in America, one of the first things I did was ask Shauna to check on Daron for me. I thought it was a minor miracle when Shauna told me Daron was alive and not in prison. But engaged, and with a child on the way? That is a full-blown miracle.
Daron and Sadie join us at our table, and I pepper Daron with questions about how he’s been getting on and how he met Sadie. He’s somewhat light on the details, but apparently, Sadie is a friend of Elena’s, and they met through a mutual friend.
Daron quickly figures out that I’ve been in town for a while. He recognizes Piper and remembered her mentioning a boyfriend called Alec. He doesn’t say much, but I know it’s a conversation we’ll need to have at some point. I owe him an apology. I still think I did the right thing, but the right thing can still hurt people.
“Come on, then,” Daron says. “How the hell are you alive? You’ve always been a lucky bastard, but this is a much bigger deal than getting lucky hands at poker.”
I take a long gulp of my drink to wet my mouth. There’s no short way to tell my story, because I refuse to leave anyone out. I can’t talk about what happened without discussing the deaths of all my crew, and even the doctor who gave his life so I could escape.
“Maybe we should wait a few minutes before telling the story,” Piper suggests. “If you tell it now, you’ll have to repeat the whole thing again soon.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because my husband’s going to want to hear it as well,” Elena says, as she collapses back down on one of the chairs. “He’ll be here in a minute.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later Elena waves to someone at the door. We turn around to see someone carrying a small boy and heading in our direction.
He looks familiar. It can’t be. Can it?
Fuck, it is. It’s him.
He’s thinner than I remember him, still muscly, but leaner with it. He also looks happier than I remember him. One kid, with another on the way. Christ, how times change.
“Felton?” I ask.
There’s a s
econd’s hesitation before he turns to look at me, as if he’s not used to hearing that name. When he does turn around, he looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Alec?”
I probably look different as well. I used to be even bulkier than him, but five years in an Iraqi prison tends to take the edge off.
Felton places the boy on a chair and shakes my hand. It probably looks a little formal and understated to everyone else, but to two former Navy SEALs, that handshake means everything.
“You made it,” I say.
“So did you. How?”
I take another gulp of beer, and this time I do tell my story. Felton already knew the first half, but Daron didn’t so I started from the beginning.
“That’s incredible,” Daron says, looking genuinely horrified at the whole thing. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I do,” Felton says. “I cannot believe you let yourself get rescued by a British guy. They’re going to hold that over us for years.”
“I know,” I agree. “If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve gone back to my cell and ignored him.”
“I guess you’d been through a lot. I’ll let you off.”
“Thanks. So what happened to you?”
Felton shrugs. “I made it back in one piece. Had to change my name when I came back to the US. I found Daron, and kept an eye on him.”
“There is a little more to it than that,” Elena says. “He got a medal.”
“A medal?” I ask.
“Distinguished service medal,” Felton confirms.
“What for? Getting shot?”
Felton laughs loudly. “Basically. There was a firefight when I got back to the base. The whole ambush was part of a larger operation. You saved my life, but then I saved a few as well. Lots of people owe you their lives. We went back to get you, but all the bodies had been burned.”
I’m not telling Shauna that part. When she asks, I’m going to tell her they found her brother’s body and buried it. Some lies are okay, I’m still convinced of that.