by Ana Stone
Table of Contents
A The Territory
C. Stone
Copyright 2017, C.Stone
Copyright © 2016 Ciana Stone
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Thursday, April 14
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
A The Territory
of Lies
A Novel By
C. Stone
Copyright 2017, C.Stone
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Ciana Stone
Cover by Syneca Featherstone
All rights reserved.
The Territory of Lies
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Territory of Lies Copyright © 2017 C.Stone
Cover art by Syneca
Edited by S. Gower
Electronic book publication May 2017
Print book publication May 2017
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, S. C. Featherstone
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Dedication:
For the love of my life. Now and always.
Chapter One
Wednesday, April 20
It was a beautiful spring day in Akron. Halfway through the work-week people were already beginning to make plans for the upcoming weekend, looking forward to spending time with their families, playing golf, taking a bike ride or just doing yard work. For the most part, it was an average day, with people going about their normal routines. Until four minutes after nine, Central Daylight Time, that is. Then the beautiful spring day became a hellish nightmare.
The sounds of traffic on the street and conversation of people on the sidewalks were drowned out by a deafening explosion. The blast was immediately followed the sound of rushing air and the splintering of thousands of panes of glass. Moments later, black billowing clouds of smoke and debris darkened the sky. The once stately John F, Seiberling Federal Building and U.S. Courthouse was now a burning mass of destruction. The five-story structure was in flames, ceilings and floors collapsing in on one another; walls falling and furniture flying.
For one split second there was total silence, as if the entire city had come to a sudden halt. Then the sounds of screams filled the air. The fear was once more reality. But how? And more importantly, why?
Fifteen Days Earlier
Wednesday, April 6
Washington, D.C.
The man with thinning gray-streaked hair sighed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "Dr. Forrest, I'm trying to explain it as best I can. It’s just that …” His voice trailed off and his eyes closed.
"It’s all right, Senator Tyler." Dr. Forrest spoke in a soothing tone. "Just relax and breathe. Take a few long slow breaths. We have plenty of time. You're under no pressure here."
As the Senator followed the suggestion, Dr. Forrest studied him. He had aged considerably since the first time he had walked into the office. At that time he’d appeared a robust fifty-eight year old man with slightly thinning hair, graying at the temples. Now he looked ten years older. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his eyes and the wrinkles that creased his cheeks resembled crevices on a crumbling stone wall.
Senator Ned Tyler opened his eyes and focused on the doctor once more. "I don't know how to say this any other way. The truth is, my problem runs much deeper than marital problems or work related stress. I find myself in the tenuous position of having to make a formidable decision, one that — well, to be blunt, one that the balance of many lives depend upon."
Dr. Forrest sat quietly watching the Senator, until a full minute had passed. "Is this not part and parcel that goes along with your position, Senator? Forgive me if I seem to put this in a light vein, but since I know little of the decision to which you refer, I must assume you’re speaking of some proposed legislation. Considering that, I feel it necessary to point out that all decisions made by the Senate affect the lives of many. So, is this decision is any different from many of the others you’ve made in the past?"
Senator Tyler looked up with a haunted expression in his eyes. "You don't understand, Doctor. This isn't just something that just affects lives. It's something that destroys them. I'm talking about something that is going to kill, hundreds, maybe thousands of people."
Dr. Forrest blinked in surprise at his words and forced aside alarm. Chances were he was dramatizing the impact. There was, however, genuine anguish in his voice and that could be addressed.
"Senator, it doesn’t take a medical degree to see that you’re distraught and I’d like to help you through this, but there is very little I can do if you aren’t open with me. I understand how difficult it is to establish a rapport with a stranger, but unless you can be open and candid with me — help me to understand what’s distressing you - then I have to say, in all fairness that therapy will prove to be of little help. I do want to help you, but I don’t want to waste your time or money."
Senator Tyler lowered his head into his hands. A shuddering sigh passed through him then the sounds of soft weeping filled the room. Doctor Forrest reached over to lay one hand on the Senator's shoulder. It was going to take some time for him to be trusting enough to open up. Hopefully, he would not suffer a breakdown before he did.
*****
On the other side of the city a man waited anxiously in the penthouse suite of the Watergate Hotel. He had no idea why he had been invited and the unknown made him nervous.
The door leading from the study opened and a man with regal bearing entered, dressed as if he had just stepped off the cover of a men's fashion magazine. Tall and lean, his hair was dark and straight, worn in a style favored more by the young than a man in his fourties. His complexion was a strange mixture of olive and bronze as if his ancestry was mixed. The vivid green of his eyes was incongruous with the dark skin and black hair.
He smiled as he crossed the room. "Congressman Blackman— Sloan, my friend. Good of you to come at such short notice. How is your lovely wife, Mary?"
"Fine, but let us come to the point. Why did you wish to see me, Adrian?"
Adrian Zayne ignored the question. "I trust my request for a meeting did not inconvenience you?"
"No. It was something of a surprise, however."
"Yes, I imagine it was," Adrian replied with a chuckle. "Please, do have a seat."
As soon as Sloan sat, Adrian took a seat himself. "Really, Sloan, there is no need for you to
be so anxious. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you being seen here. After all, am I not one of the largest supporters of the United States Congress?"
"Yes, I suppose you are."
"Let me come to the point of this meeting. I understand that one of your old acquaintances has an upcoming birthday this weekend."
Sloan's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown.
"Larry Anderson." Adrian provided the name. "You know, he has become quite the social butterfly since he left the Senate, what was it, five years ago. I hear he took a position as a lobbyist for the dairy industry."
"Oh, yes. I haven't seen Larry in… why it must be close to two months. So, he's having a birthday?"
"Yes, and I thought it might be nice to arrange a little party for him," Adrian said as he stood. He crossed the room and picked up an embossed leather folder from the antique desk. "As a matter of fact, I’ve made all the arrangements. What I want, Sloan, is for you to act as host for the party. I've taken the liberty of having the invitations delivered and I’ve taken care of the financial matters, of course. All the information is in here."
Sloan took the folder and looked up at Adrian. "Why?"
"Why what?
"Why have a party for Larry? I didn't even know you were acquainted."
Adrian laughed and sat down again. "No, as a matter of fact we're not. But that is not important since I’m not hosting the party. As you well know, Congressman, parties are most excellent means of meeting and making new friends."
"I take it there's someone on the guest list that you are interested in."
A sly smile took hold of Adrian's handsome face. "Let's just say that I'm looking forward to the party, Congressman."
Saturday, April 9
Sydney was just walking out the door of her apartment when the phone rang. She started to ignore it and let the voice mail answer but decided at the last second against it. Not many people called her home phone. She ran back inside and picked up the extension in the living area, hoping nothing was wrong.
"Hello?"
A man's voice came over the line. "Syd? Hey, I can't believe I caught you at home."
"Blake!" Worry turned to delight. She took a seat on the arm of the couch. "Where are you?"
"Right now, in an airport in Charlotte, North Carolina. How are you?"
"Fine. Busy. How about you?"
"Tired. And looking forward to getting home."
"When do you think that'll be?"
"Sometime next week, hopefully. Listen, I only had a second.I just wanted to say hi and that I miss you."
"That's sweet." she said softly. "I miss you, too. You take care."
"You, too. I'll give you a call when I get home."
"Okay, talk to you soon."
Sydney hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. She was starting to think that he was becoming more serious than she was comfortable with. She’d been divorced for less than a year and was in no hurry to get into a serious relationship; and definitely not a relationship in which the other party was looking for marriage. Her first attempt had been such a disaster that she wasn’t sure she would ever want to get married again.
That was something she’d made clear to Blake when they first met. At the time he said he understood. He was divorced after having been married for sixteen years. He told her that his marriage reached a point where there was no use in continuing with it. Neither he nor his wife was happy and so they’d decided to call it quits and part as friends.
He had been divorced for a little over four years. Sydney thought perhaps he’d reached a point where he missed being married and having a wife to come home to when he did get a chance to be home.
Oddly, while she had no desire to get married again, she had found herself thinking about having children. She’d always wanted to have a family and still did but the time had never been right. Her energy had been focused on school and then on establishing herself in her practice and there was little time for anything else.
That hadn’t been a problem in her marriage. Her husband, Evan Mallory, was consumed with his career and had paid little attention to anything else, including her. She’d not really noticed his lack of attention until they had been married over a year. By then her practice was established and while she was still primarily centered on work she had a little more time to pay attention to what was happening in her personal life.
It was at that point she realized that Evan wasn’t interested in her for anything more than an attractive decoration when he attended social events. Not only that, she’d discovered that he was involved with another woman, and had been the entire time they were married. It seemed that Evan had married her not only because she was attractive and 'socially acceptable' but also because she was the daughter of Republican Senator Jack Forrest. The day she found out she packed her things and moved out. She had not spoken with Evan except through their attorneys since that day.
After the separation, she put all her energy into her work. She wouldn’t even consider dating until she had her divorce papers in hand and even then she dated infrequently. Eight months ago she went with a friend to a party and there she met Blake.
She thought about their meeting as she left the apartment and got in her car. Once in route, she allowed her mind to travel back to that night.
She stood on the balcony, looking out over the lights of the capital. The din of the crowd mixed with the blare of music from within the apartment was beginning to give her a headache. She wished she hadn’t agreed to come to the party with her friend, Celeste. This was a party for people who were hunting — for lovers, husbands, wives or mistresses. She had no desire to be counted among the participants.
Celeste was having a ball, but Celeste always did. She skipped from one man to the next as quickly as using the Uber app on her phone. Sydney wasn’t into that sort of thing. Not only was she acutely conscious of the risk of sexually transmitted diseases but she simply wasn’t the kind of woman who indulged in casual sex.
As she continued to look out over the city someone stepped out onto the balcony behind her. She turned to look. The handsome man smiled and inclined his head toward the interior of the apartment. "It's kind of loud in there. Do you mind sharing your balcony?"
"It's not mine," she said with a smile, admiring his rugged good looks.
Standing at least two inches over six feet he was a big man. Not heavy or stocky, just big, like someone who had worked out most of his life. His hair was medium brown, straight and thick, worn short around the sides and back, and longer on top. He had the kind of face that was attractive but not classically beautiful. It was a rugged face with slightly chiseled features, housing beautiful hazel eyes. He had the kind of looks that made cause a woman to fantasize about bedding him and man feel envious of his looks and stature. She estimated him to be around forty.
"Well," he replied in response to her comment. "Do you mind sharing whoever's balcony it is? My name's Blake Edwards."
"I don't mind at all and it's nice to meet you, Blake Edwards. I'm Sydney Forrest."
"Any relation to Senator Forrest?"
"His daughter."
"Well," he said with raised eyebrows. "I’ll admit to being a fan of your dad's. He's what politicians should aspire to be — honest and straight forward. I like that in a person."
"I'm sure he'd be flattered to hear that." Sheliked the sound of his voice. It was deep yet soft, like someone who didn’t feel the need to be loud to make a point. "And, what do you do, Blake? Are you of the next generation of politicians to the capital or perhaps one of the new breed of lobbyists out to change votes?"
"Neither," he said with laugh that started as a deep sound in his chest that rose to emerge as an amused chuckle. "I'm just your average government worker."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Somehow I don't think so."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Well," she said as she considered him. "To begin with, you speak well, in the manner of someone accustome
d to presenting ideas in some type of public forum. Your body language says that you're self-assured yet not arrogant, confident yet not brash, and your eyes tell me that you have a sense of humor. That's not exactly how I’d describe an average government worker."
"So, if I'm not a government worker then what would you guess me to be?"
She thought about it for a second. "Ummmm…An attorney, perhaps, or… well, I'm not sure. Why don't you tell me?"
"You're pretty good." He smiled and leaned his forearms on the balcony rail. "I'm with the FBI."
"With the FBI as in administration or agent?" she asked then held up her hand. "No, wait, don't tell me. You're an agent."
"Special agent Edwards, at your service. So, now we know who I am, who are you Sydney Forrest? And is that Miss, Ms., or Mrs.?"
"It's Ms."
"Okay, let me think." He turned toward her. "Ms. Sydney Forrest. Daughter of a senator, astute in reading people, not into the meat market scene, obviously intelligent, a classy dresser and one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, if you don't mind me saying. You must be… I have no idea."
Sydney smiled at his compliments. "I'm a psychiatrist."
Blake's eyes widened then he surprised her by laughing. "Well, I'd never have guessed that."
"I take it you don't have a very high opinion of psychiatrists."
"No, quite the contrary. I think very highly of your profession, but like a lot of people I'm a bit uneasy about someone accessing my psyche. I suppose it makes me feel a little vulnerable and that's something I'm not at all comfortable with."
Sydney admired his honesty and her attraction to him rose. "I see, and I understand. At least you're honest about how you feel. That's a rare quality."
"It should be a common one, don't you think?"
