“I believe military type disciplinary schools, who compete for these problem kids, will be a choice for parents who are at their wit’s end,” Sotello replied. “Giving into these weasels, abandons the achievers in our schools. Kids, who come to learn, and not to be bullied and beaten, deserve a school system they can reach their potential in. The thugs will get what they crave: discipline and reform school.”
“Some will never escape their mindset of failure, and will end up in our jails; but at least they will not have tortured countless other kids on their way there. I remember a marine I knew during the Vietnam War. He stole cars. The judge gave him two choices: four years in the Marine Corps, or seven years in prison. The Marine Corps changed him into a productive human being. Perhaps we need the judicial system to take a more enterprising look at these future criminals, and find something more fulfilling for them to do with their lives. The answer is not patting them on the butt, and sending them back into our classrooms.”
“These problem students may be suffering from abuse at home, or a physical malady,” Davidson rebutted. “We cannot just turn our backs on them. The special educational programs we have making up our core programs can get these children moving towards a vocation early. What about gay students, Mr. Sotello? Do we segregate them to a dungeon too?”
“What about them?” Sotello said. “Schools are not theaters for kids to act out sexually. If a student cannot attend school, without drawing attention to their sexual nature, then they need to get home schooled until positions open up on Oprah. As to the occupational programs in the schools today, I feel the children would be better served with the basics, instead of being pigeon holed into a career at thirteen.”
“Will California be able to save every student? No,” Sotello answered his own question. “A family must save its own. If a family cannot save one of its own, then California has the duty to separate the rebellious from the achievers, nothing more, and nothing less. It is then up to the rebellious to decide whether to change their ways, or have their ways changed for them.”
“I can see you have no compassion for the less privileged,” Davidson retorted.
Sotello laughed. “Governor, I was raised in an orphanage. I have a real hands on knowledge of what underprivileged means.”
Davidson had backed into a corner. “Yes, well, that may be okay for you, but answers in this day and age require more innovative thinking.”
Davidson went on to describe the relationship he wished to build between the private sector and high school age children. When he finished speaking, Sotello was ready.
“You have had four years to use your magic solutions on our education system, Governor,” Sotello said. “You have allowed the proselytizing of Islam in our public schools. You have allowed whole regions to ignore state law mandating an end to quota systems, and English immersion for legal immigrants. You have yet to speak out about the lunacy they keep trying at Cal Berkeley in giving financial breaks to illegal immigrants. We keep spending more and more, and getting less and less. Just how many years do you need Governor?”
“Surely,” Davidson fired back angrily, “even you can see the Governor’s office cannot order our Education Department as if I were a King. These improvements and changes must come over a period of time.”
“I do see one thing,” Sotello replied heatedly. “You can enforce the law, and you have heavy input into every facet of the Education Department. I guarantee if I win the Governorship, the school systems around the state will abide by the law, or I will have them brought into court. There will be English Immersion as the voters passed, and quota systems will be banished.”
“Gentlemen,” Denton broke in. “We have another topic to cover in this first encounter. California has suffered greatly because of energy shortages. What can be done to make our state more efficient, energy wise? Mr. Sotello, would you care to go first?”
Sotello smiled, because he had seen the look of surprise on Davidson’s face at the question. Apparently, not everything decided on for this debate had been okayed by the Governor. “This on-going war against terrorism will need us to wean away from foreign oil sources, especially in the Middle East. I wish to give California the right to develop all of its resources in regards to energy. We all need to use some common sense. Oil drilling need not be demonized in this day and age. California can develop energy in this state without turning into a wasteland.”
“I am not going to stand here, and tell you I will protect the environment to the point of insanity. If any of you out there are tired of mush-mouthed, con jobs concerning the environment, you are not alone. We need new power plants, and we need new energy sources. I do not plan to turn Lake Tahoe into a nuclear power plant; but the idea you can never have a power plant built, unless it’s in someone else’s backyard, has to stop.”
“Look at MTBE additives in the fuel, Governor Davidson still has not gotten rid of. Our ground water, even in Lake Tahoe, has been poisoned by these unnecessary oxygenates. What does the state do? Nothing. The Governor’s Office hides behind Federal Law, and orders studies while our water wells become polluted. I don’t need anymore studies. The day after I get elected, MTBE will be outlawed in California. The transition time will be short, and there will be some howling about supply problems, but we will get these poisons out of our fuel.”
“In conclusion,” Sotello smiled into the camera, “If you want a Ralph Nader environmental whacko, I am not the choice for you. We have the technology to protect the environment within reason, and still take our state back from the tree huggers, who want us back living in caves.”
“Governor,” Denton gestured.
Davidson had been calming down the whole time Sotello spoke. Environmental indifference was the third rail of politics. For the next five minutes, Davidson made it clear he would be working on conservation, rather than letting wildcat riggers run rampant on California’s forests and coastline. He explained he would okay new power plants as quickly as environmental impact statements could be done. Oxygenates, he explained, were a key part of the Clean Air Act, and the California Air Resources Board supported them fully.
“Mr. Sotello,” Rachel Stevens said when Davidson finished, “do you wish to rebut?”
“Not at all,” Sotello replied. “The Governor will probably flow around the energy problem just as he stated. I will do exactly what I said. I would like to warn some of our bureaucracies, living off the taxpayers, expanding their power and budgets, while frightening the citizens of California about the environment. Start looking for real jobs if I am elected, because your days will be numbered.”
“Governor,” Denton asked, “any parting thoughts?”
“I think we have illustrated our differences quite clearly,” Davidson answered smugly.
“Very well, thank you both,” Rachel Stevens said into the camera. “We will break now for commercial time out, which we hope you will be patient with. As we did not want to interrupt the flow of the debate, we will have to catch up a bit. Our next segment will be on the steps of the Capital, with the people who came out here today, and saw the debate as they stood out in front. We’ll hear what they have to say. Please stay with us.”
Davidson walked over to Sotello, as the camera crews moved quickly to relocate for the remainder of the show. Denton and Stevens hurriedly joined the two men for a moment. Davidson shook hands with Sotello, with what Sotello thought was a genuine smile of concern.
“How do you feel, Jim?” The Governor asked.
“Like I got hit with a baseball bat,” Sotello admitted, “but I’m okay.”
“Can either of you gentlemen join us out front?” Denton asked.
“I really can’t,” Davidson said. “I have a meeting to attend.”
“I can join you for a while,” Sotello volunteered, as he heard Sykes sigh behind him. She gave him his glass of ice water, and an icy, disapproving stare.
“Great,” Stevens said, “see you out there.”
Denton and
Rachel Stevens gathered what they could with the help of the crew, while their producer directed.
“No cheap shots while I’m not there now, Jim,” Davidson admonished.
Sotello held up his right hand with a solemn look on his face. “I so swear, your honor.”
Davidson laughed. “When this is over, no matter how it goes, you and I should have a drink together.”
“It will be my privilege to buy you one, Red,” Sotello agreed.
“You made a mistake with your environmental stance,” Davidson added. “You had me on the ropes there for a while.”
“Better it came out now,” Sotello replied, sipping his ice water. “I don’t want anyone saying they weren’t warned, and I don’t want the Governorship on any false pretenses. If you want another opening, just let me know Red. We can take on immigration next. I can guarantee we will give the people a clear choice there too.”
“I bet,” Davidson said, patting Sotello’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Well, keep your head down. I have every cop in the Sacramento area on this latest attempt. They, and every law enforcement office in the state has been put on notice to cooperate with the FBI team in this.”
“Thank you, Governor,” Sotello said. “Let me know when you wish to get together again. I’ll be there.”
Davidson walked away with his security team in tow, pausing to give Sotello a little wave before leaving his office. Sykes looked at Sotello, searching for any sign of fatigue or obvious pain.
“You’re looking a little gray there, Bullseye,” She said seriously. “What the hell did you agree to go out into the mix-master out front for?”
“We’re doing exactly what we started out to do,” Sotello replied. “I need to find out if any of what I said in the debate reversed our momentum. No use in kidding myself, if the people continue to want a liberal bureaucracy, I want to know it. We’ll take the pulse first hand out front.”
Hank Janowitz rushed into the Governor’s Office with a smile on his face. “We got him, Jim!”
Sotello shook hands with his friend. “Man, that’s a relief. That guy could shoot. You must have gotten the lid slammed down fast enough to prevent him from leaving right away. Who is he?”
“He tried to get out of the area only twenty minutes ago,” Janowitz replied. “When he tried to u-turn out of a road block, the state troopers tried to stop him. He started firing, and they killed him. The sniper rifle was in the trunk of his car. Two of the troopers were wounded, but nothing serious. All we know at this time is he’s Middle Eastern in appearance, and in his thirties. They’re sending his fingerprints out even as we speak.”
“I’m sorry they couldn’t get him alive,” Sotello said. “I guess if you can find out who he was, then he will be one more piece in the puzzle. This sure makes my appearance out on the front steps a little less adventurous.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Janowitz asked in complete disbelief.
“Oh Hank,” Sykes broke in, “Bullseye here is not kidding. I was just getting ready to call and let you know.”
“Christ, Jim,” Janowitz shook his head. “What do you have to prove? We don’t know if the shooter was the only one. He may have had a backup just waiting to find out where you would be next, or waiting for the debate to be over.”
“All of that may be true, but…”
“But nothing,” Janowitz broke in. “They’re already broadcasting the news about the assassination attempt, and they will know about the shooter within minutes. Gunfights in broad daylight attract attention. If the guy had a backup, he knows his friend missed you, and he already knows where you are.”
“We have gotten no where with the men involved in the other assassination attempts, other than tracking down connections. The call we thought tipped off the Terrorist at the Mark Hopkins did not come from the bogus phone call to your client either, so we are back to square one as to how they keep knowing your schedule. We will have to back track every person who knew you would be going at this time to the debate.”
Sotello looked at his old friend, and nodded his understanding. “I understand you completely Hank, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all of your help. I can even understand if you get pissed off at me enough to pack it up and leave, but I will be out there in a few moments. I was sure that phone call, May Lin talked about, that her Father took the night before she came to America, would turn out to be the way the guy at the hotel knew where I’d be.”
“So did I, Jim, but it turned out to be a friend of your client, who just wondered when she would be leaving. Okay.” Janowitz sighed. “I’m not leaving you hung out to dry, but I will say this.” He turned to Sykes. “This is an order, Agent Sykes. Do not take a bullet for this cement head. Is that clear?”
Sykes and Sotello both started laughing, but Sotello quit fast as another knife like pain lanced through his chest.
“Well, I guess the next stop on the campaign tour better be the hospital,” Janowitz said, as he watched Sotello slowly straighten with a painful grimace.
“I’ll be okay,” Sotello wheezed, “if you can quit making like Bob Hope. Are you ready Jan? I better get out there.”
“Sure, Bullseye,” Sykes replied, shaking her head.
Sotello took a last gulp of his ice water, and put the glass down on a table, which held refreshments. He put his arm around Janowitz, and walked him through the door. “Thanks again Hank for assigning this smartass to my team.”
“No problem, Guv,” Janowitz chuckled. “With her around you, I will have at least one person making sense. I have your limo driver in a designated area. As soon as you’re through being target practice, two of my crew will escort you and Jan to your car.”
“We’ll go back inside the building as soon as we’re done,” Sotello agreed, “and wait for your escort.”
The producer met Sotello, as he and Sykes walked toward the doors, surrounded by security guards, and her show crew. Outside, Denton and Stevens were tag teaming different members of the crowd for reactions to the debate. Sotello figured there were more than a couple of hundred people out in front with them. Sykes moved right to the doors, showing the security team her credentials, and then moving to a position to scan the crowd.
“How you feeling, Jim?” Jane asked with concern. “These two can actually handle the rest of the show without your appearance.”
“I’m ready,” Sotello said. “Sykes will be going out with me though.”
“No problem,” Jane replied. “I’ll signal you as soon as we break for a commercial. We’ll get you into position then. Five more minutes, okay?”
Sotello nodded, and she walked back to her position outside the entrance. Phillips approached him, as Sotello walked closer towards the door, watching to see if Sykes saw anything interesting. He saw Phillips out of the corner of his eye, and reached for his hand. Phillips shook it with both of his.
“Great performance Jim,” Phillips said. “The crowd was with you solidly until the environment; but even then, there was much more applause than boos. Has your chest gotten any better?”
“Not much,” Sotello admitted, “but I never figured it would. I’ll make it. I guess we get to see how much ground I lost in a minute. We’ll be coming back in as soon as I’m finished, and then a couple of FBI guys will be escorting us out to our car.”
“Good deal. Everyone out there knows now you were shot, and they know about the assassin’s death,” Phillips informed him. “I just watched the news clip. The guy had an Uzi, but the troopers opened up with shotguns, when the guy started spraying them.”
Sotello nodded. He received the signal from the producer, and patted Phillips on the shoulder. “See you in a few minutes pal.”
Sykes went out in front of Sotello. Tailing her closely, Sotello passed Jane’s support crew, and the crowd went wild as he came into view. He paused at the top of the steps to wave, just as a figure broke free from the crowd, and pulled his arm back to throw something. Sotello saw him, and pulled Sykes d
own, just as the guy launched a tomato, which whizzed by, smacking into the window glass at the entrance doors. Two men in suits, with visible earpieces and handguns, jumped the man before he could move. Sotello looked back at the red blotch of tomato on the door window, and smiled down at Sykes.
“You okay?” Sotello asked. “I didn’t mean to crush you. I thought the guy was throwing a grenade.”
“I’m supposed to protect you, remember?” Sykes commented, as she stood up, and then steadied Sotello, who grunted in pain as he stood up. “That sudden movement could not have felt good.”
“Oh baby,” Sotello whispered. “You are so right about that.”
The crowd was silent, as the agents handcuffed the struggling man, and gave him over to three uniformed patrolmen. Denton and Stevens had broadcast the whole incident with running commentary, and they now walked up the steps to where Sotello stood, catching his breath. Their producer was busily hooking Sotello up for sound, as Sykes stayed between Sotello and the crowd. Denton shook hands with Sotello for the cameras, as Jane gave him the okay sign and backed away.
“Well, Mr. Sotello, you have had a busy day. What went through your mind when you saw that guy throw a tomato at you?” Stevens asked.
“I thought: thank God they have decided to downgrade the attacks from bullets to vegetables,” Sotello said, as the crowd roared.
Chapter 46
Halloween
Sotello sat at his kitchen table with Tinker lying at his feet, having just ran her around the neighborhood against the express orders of his friends and family. The camera crews had given up dogging his every move after the second debate. To Sotello’s surprise, Sykes came into the kitchen in her robe, a full hour before her usual appearance in the morning. She gave him a little wave, and headed for the coffee pot. After pouring and doctoring her beverage, she sat down opposite Sotello, smiling at his obvious surprise.
“It’s only six thirty,” Sotello said. “What in the world brings you out of your cave this early?”
“I can get up just as easily as you, Bullseye,” Sykes said defensively. “Besides, I can never go back to sleep after I hear you take off in the morning with Tinker. I keep wondering if I will see you again or not. The number of places someone could be lying in wait for you out there are legion.”
Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) Page 52
