“Mr. Senator.” A sultry voice wafted from the shadowy far corner of the room. A statuesque woman stepped forward.
Gregg, without turning, switched on a green glass floor lamp that added a glow to the room. He began pulling off his tie. “Are you ready for me?” He turned to look at her.
“I’ve been waiting for a man like you all my life.” She said huskily.
Turning his head to the side, he looked her up and down, memorizing every curve and texture. She was very tall, perhaps five-foot eleven, with a magnificent figure of curves. Her full, shapely hips rose to a small waist. Smooth, tapered legs looked unbearably long on top of four-inch heels, and the tops of her black, lace-trimmed stockings could be seen through the high slits on either side of her long black satin gown.
“How are you this evening?” he asked her.
“Wonderful now, Senator.” She smiled. “I always feel good around a powerful man.”
Gregg smiled. Moving over to the big green leather wingback chair, he sat down. Years ago, he had been a football athlete, but his two hundred and eighty pounds were no longer distributed nicely across the shoulders, legs or arms of his six-one frame. Good living and better scotch had taken their toll, and provided him with a substantial girth.
The woman came toward his chair, slowly pulling a strap of her gown off each shoulder as she walked. The thin satin slid gracefully down her body, gliding softy over each curve, caressing her full breasts and erect nipples as it slipped silently to the floor.
She moved closer, her breasts pressing toward him. They were perfectly round, almost too perfect. The Senator liked them that way. Sliding her hands up the sides of her naked body, she ran her fingers up through her elegant champagne blonde hair, emphasizing its shimmering glint in the light. Pulling her hair back, she shook it as though she were in a shampoo commercial. Her breasts hardly moved, and his eyes never moved from them.
Stepping out of the black gown lying around her high heels, she bent over and placed her hands on his thighs, kneeling down in front of him. She looked up for a moment, her light, almost gold colored eyes daring him to look up from her breasts. Resting one on each of his knees, she slid her hands up to his belt and began to unbuckle the Spanish leather. He didn’t move to help her. He liked watching her struggle with his pants and silk boxers. Slouching back into the chair he gave her full access to his body. As the woman went to work on him, he congratulated himself on deciding months ago that this one would be worth having for a return visit.
The phone on the table next to the chair toned quietly with the sound of a fine chime. He reached over to it and answered. “Yes?” The girl never broke stride.
“Everything is complete.” The deep voice responded.
“No problem with the package?” Gregg asked somewhat more attentively.
“None,” came the answer.
“Good.” Gregg hung up the phone. Placing his hands on the woman’s head, he thrust his fingers into her hair, pulling her face up to look at him. Then he pushed her head forward again. “Now where was I? Oh, yes, you were showing me how you love powerful men.”
Chapter 12
It was six a.m. and dark when Robert’s alarm went off. Tracie stayed in bed, and so did the boys. The boys had the day off from school, and Tracie was planning a spa day with a girlfriend.
After showering, Robert headed downstairs to the kitchen where he turned on the espresso machine. While the unit heated up, he mixed a chocolate protein shake. He used too little water and had to choke down the thick shake along with a handful of assorted vitamins. He went back to the espresso machine, dropped in a “pod” of ground espresso and watched the machine exude the dark liquid with its rim of crema. Another “pod,” this time of milk, was placed in the machine. The machine went through another heating cycle, then Robert hit the steaming button. The machine was quick and easy, and the pods were a high-end version of cheaper, more popular machine-cups, but as Robert sipped the drink he thought the flavor was flat.
He watched a couple of minutes of recorded stock market news recorded on the DVR, then went back upstairs to dress. With one last check of hair and attire, Robert left the bathroom. Seeing Tracie’s hand emerge from the bed covers he went over and mechanically kissed the hand goodbye. Then he turned off the hallway light as he left, and was on his way well before seven.
The weekend had gone by rapidly. Tracie had gone to a dinner at the Kennedy center, leaving at two-thirty Saturday afternoon to make sure everything was perfect. Robert had not seen her again until she woke him up getting into bed late that night. Sunday Robert had worked in the home office while Tracie took the boys to some activities and shopping—a rare occurrence since they’d hired Alicia. Occasional bursts of noise from the family’s pit stops and uniform changes at the house broke the silence, and distracted Robert from his overflowing desk. Busy as he had been, both days left Robert largely bored. In a way, Robert welcomed the return of his weekday routine. At least his weekday irritations were interesting.
Monday morning’s traffic was lighter than usual. Robert arrived at Grady’s favorite coffee house around seven-fifteen.
Now Robert sat fiddling with a latte, wishing he’d ordered a mocha instead. The sugar would have given him a boost. The serotonin bump from the chocolate wouldn’t have hurt, either.
He had chosen a stool at the counter that lined the front window. From there he could watch the parking lot, and not miss Grady. He clutched his latte a little tighter. It had turned bitterly cold overnight, sinking below twenty degrees. Winter was in full swing outside, and the cold created a draft that seemed to roll in waves down the window onto his hands. Right now anything hot felt good. He bought a low-fat raspberry muffin, which he ate too fast. He toyed with the paper it came in, and the idea of getting another, but gave it up in favor of keeping his carbohydrates in line.
One caffeine addict after another came into the coffee bean den. Customers arrived with mixed expressions. Some looked grouchy or angry; others seemed irritated or sleepy. A few looked hopefully toward their temple of the caffeine god for deliverance. Those leaving with their treasure caressed it like a lover. The relief and gleeful smiles on their lips were universal. Even before the first taste, the drug’s effect was clearly visible.
Robert picked up his phone and punched in Chris’ cell number, as he’d done half a dozen times over the weekend. There was still no answer. Chris hadn’t said when he’d send the information, but Robert was getting impatient. Chris’ assertions had been bothering him all weekend. Why would Chris contact him if the need wasn’t immediate? He’d assumed that Chris would be sending the “proof” right away. Looking at his watch he realized how early it was, but he was still bugged about Chris not calling.
His attention turned back to the door. Not given to paranoia, Robert only occasionally became aware of the vulnerability of his position in government, and the possible dangers he might encounter. In some foreign countries a man in his position would have several bodyguards. In the U.S. Robert was considered to be comparatively safe. He hadn’t thought much about hanging out in this crowded place, or whom he might run into, but the incessant flow of people began to make him uncomfortable. Who could tell if these people were nuts for coffee, or just nuts? Worse, they could be lobbyists. He did his best to avoid them. There was a guy in the corner who had arrived shortly after Robert, and was taking way too long to drink his coffee, but then, so was Robert. There was a college-age girl frantically texting on her phone, and a salesman-type working on his laptop. Robert’s fingers began tapping the counter.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a uniform. Grady was heading in from the parking lot. His long stride was athletic and self-assured. He burst through the door with an air of extreme familiarity. With a simple wave and acknowledgement from the barista, his order was placed and brewing.
“Good morning, Barry!” Grady called to the man who had worried Robert. Barry raised his mug, but not his head. The colonel looked aroun
d the room and spotted Robert. “Well, good morning, Mr. Carlton. Decided to return to the embrace of my favorite coffee haunt?” With two long strides Grady stood next to Robert and was shaking his hand warmly. Grady was tall. His uniform fit impeccably over his fit build, and his dark skin appeared young and firm. He had a look that instantly attracted women. It attracted men, too, but for different reasons. He was pleasing to the eye, likable, and confident. Robert had many friends and associates, but none of them had a universal appeal like Grady. The guy had charisma.
“Good morning to you, too, Grady. And what’s with the ‘Mr. Carlton’ routine?” Robert tried to emulate Grady’s warm enthusiasm. He wanted to set a casual tone to the conversation.
“Just respecting the office, Robert. May I join you?” Grady asked.
“I wish you would.” Robert gestured to the stool next to him.
Grady smiled as he sat down. “It’s been a long time, Robert. How are you enjoying the job?”
“It has its challenges and rewards.” Robert answered carefully. “And you?”
“Outstanding… Where’s that espresso?” Grady looked over his shoulder. “Slow this morning.” Turning back to face Robert he asked, “Good latte?”
“Fine; thanks.” Robert responded, wondering how to begin explaining his request to Grady.
“’Fine?’ They use the best beans here! They’re great! I’ll have them make you a better one.” Grady turned and raised his hand but before he could speak, Robert grabbed his arm and pulled it down.
“No, really, it’s great.” Robert turned the stool to face Grady more directly. “Frankly, I was hoping you would come here this morning. I tried your office Friday, and you weren’t in. Rather than leave a message, I thought I might find you here.” He felt awkward. He still wasn’t sure how to present his query to Grady.
Grady cocked an eyebrow at Robert. “Well, you were right, but it must be important to go through that much trouble.”
“It is, but there are too many people here. I’d rather discuss this in a less congested environment.”
Grady reached up to grab his ‘eye opener’ from the girl who had hand-delivered the libation. Grady’s to-go cup contained four shots of espresso with a splash of milk and froth. It came with a particularly enthusiastic smile from the attractive barista. “Thanks, Beth.” Grady said. Taking a big gulp, he let out a satisfied, “Ahhh, delicious!” She laughed, turned, and almost skipped back to her duties.
“I’d like to find that less busy location now, Grady.” Robert said in a low voice, staring hard at Grady. Grady’s surprise momentarily quelled the pleased expression on his face. He stared back at Robert for a moment. “Okay. You’ve got my attention. You’ve also got me wondering why you didn’t go through channels.” He said, gravity creeping into his voice.
“Can we just get out of here?” Robert looked around, feeling ridiculously paranoid. “How about we go to your car?”
“Sure.” Taking another swig of his hot coffee, Grady slid his stool back noisily and stood up. “Let’s go.”
“What about the check?” Robert asked.
“I have an account.” Grady pulled the keys to his Jeep Cherokee out of his pocket, and marched through the door.
The alarm “cheeped” as he deactivated it and jumped into the 4X4 SUV. He started the engine as Robert got in the other side.
Robert put on his safety belt while Grady stacked old coffee cups to make room for the new one in the cup holder.
“Where to?” asked Grady, glancing at Robert.
“Around the block.” Robert looked around the parking lot as they left.
“Okay... so, you want to tell me what this is all about, Robert?”
Robert took a breath, and launched into his speech with less finesse than he’d intended. “I need you to check out something for me, Grady. I need to know if there is a way to break into the OPOV system; to compromise it, or control it.”
“We already did that report, Robert. Every agency in the government did one.” Grady looked slightly bemused at Robert’s request. “Hell, you’re more in-the-loop than I am. You have all those reports. What’s up? You don’t need me to track down information you’ve already got. What do you really need?”
Robert sighed. He wasn’t handling this well. Grady had seen right through him. “You’re right, those reports are fine. That’s not what I need.”
“I didn’t think so.” Grady said, cocking an eyebrow at Robert. “Are you going to tell me what is?”
“I need you to look at it again, unofficially.” Robert mustered up his most commanding posture. He knew what he was asking could put Grady in a tight spot, but he needed Grady to agree to do it. “I need to know if our own agencies can break the system from inside.”
Grady gritted his teeth, the muscles under his smooth, dark skin flexing back and forth. “So, what you want to know is whether any branch, CIA, FBI, NSA, Military, whoever, could break in and modify OPOV, or worse, use legitimate access to compromise it? You know we checked that already, too, Robert.” Grady looked over at him, his brows drawn together, and his deep brown eyes searching Robert’s. “We checked all security breach scenarios. And it’s the NSA’s and FBI’s job to do that.”
Robert felt frustrated. He was communicating badly. He was also beginning to think he might have to tell Grady more than he’d intended. “What I’m trying to say is, if someone on the inside intended to compromise the system, or was attempting to make it easy to do so later, could they? Could you spot it if they had already succeeded?” Robert looked forward, avoiding Grady’s eyes. “If the NSA, for example, had done it, they wouldn’t say so in their own report, would they?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Grady asked in disbelief. Robert didn’t answer. “You’re suggesting…no…testing the idea that there could be espionage from the inside; probably with multiple layers of conspirators, and no checks or balances stopping it because the infiltration is internal. You want me to figure out how they could do it from out here?”
“I’m not asking you to break into the system. All I need to know is, theoretically, if it can be broken into, changed, or controlled in any way from the inside without anyone finding out.” Robert held his breath for a second, then released it. “Grady, I need to know if the vote can be rigged by somebody on the inside. And if it can, is the system set up in such a way that no one will ever know that it happened?”
“You think someone is trying to do that?” Grady was incredulous and perplexed.
Robert paused just a fraction of a second too long. “No, I just need to know if it can be done. If it’s possible, then...” Robert didn’t quite know where to end that sentence.
“OK, easy answer. Anything is possible. You happy now?” Grady pulled back into the coffee place’s parking lot.
“All right,” Robert realized he should have seen that coming. What he really wanted was an answer from Grady that would convince him Chris was wrong. The only way to get that would be to explore every possibility. He thought for a minute before going on. “The system is as good as we can make it. The reports said so. So what are the best ways to break in, internally? Can you tell me that?”
“Sure, I can give you a list of the best methods. Everyone who’s seen a movie knows most of them. So do the guys who built the OPOV safeguards. You just can’t do it with so much security, and so many people watching the system. Not unless you’re James Bond.”
“Fine, give me that list, and I’ll start there. But I need you to help me check this system out, Grady. I need you to go deeper. I need you to assume someone has already succeeded. I have some information that I have to check out, but it has to be kept quiet.”
Grady took a moment, then asked, “So if you think someone has already done it, why can’t this be an official investigation?”
“If everyone knows we’re looking, they will shut it down. They’ll wait until we aren’t looking anymore.” That was more than Robert planned to say.
“So,
it’s already been done. Or you think it might have been.” Grady looked as unhappy as he now felt. “That’s reasonable, I suppose,” he said slowly. “If there is an insider compromising the system, an investigation would tip them off. All right. I’ve got a few contacts. I’ll check it out for you, Robert, but don’t expect me to go too far without this thing becoming official. I’ll do what I can.” Grady knew that snooping around wasn’t likely to achieve anything but resentment and suspicion from other departments. He might not be able to keep his research quiet. Even if he was extremely discreet someone was bound to notice.
“Okay if I tell my boss I’m doing a project for the AG office?” Grady continued. “He won’t ask questions. He just likes to keep track of resources, and set priorities if something hits his desk.”
“Sure, and thanks.” Robert stepped out of the car.
“Hey, how should I get a hold of you?” Grady asked.
“Don’t. I’ll call you.” Robert, paused, rethinking that idea. “Wait—on second thought, here’s my cell number.” He wrote it on the back of his card and handed it to Grady. He turned and walked off toward his car, leaving Grady staring after him.
Flipping over the card, Grady read the number. He wondered if Robert’s promotion was going to his head, and if he was just flexing a little muscle. “Give a guy a big title...” Grady muttered, shaking his head. Yanking the steering wheel, he pulled the jeep out of the parking spot.
Chapter 13
Robert got back in his car, started the engine, and clicked on the heated seat. Winter was two days old, and he was already tired of being cold.
Robert had thought that talking to Grady would make him feel as though Chris was suffering paranoid delusions, but he realized that the conversation had provided the opposite effect. The idea of OPOV being compromised from the inside was beginning to sound all too possible. He started driving, but changed his mind about going to the office. Instead he headed for the Treasury Building.
One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1) Page 8
