The Castle: A Ripped-From-The-Headlines Thriller

by Jason Pinter

  Stanton was previously employed by the consulting firm of Pulaski & Associates, but sources say Rawson Griggs bought out the remainder of Stanton’s contract in order to free him up to accept the job.

  In a brief statement, the Griggs Organization said:

  Rawson Griggs and his family are indebted to Jeremy Stanton for courageously risking his life to do the right thing. As he got to know Mr. Stanton, Mr. Griggs was impressed with the young man’s aptitude, acumen, and ambition, and decided to make Mr. Stanton an offer to join the organization. We are happy to say that he accepted. Mr. Stanton will attend Monday’s event with Rawson Griggs.

  Jeremy Stanton, in his first public comments outside of social media since the incident , said:

  I’m thrilled to join an iconic American organization and work beside one of its great leaders and entrepreneurs in Rawson Griggs. I look forward to helping the Griggs Organization build a better future, both here and abroad.

  Over the last month, speculation has grown that Rawson Griggs has begun putting together the infrastructure to launch a bid for President of the United States. Monday’s event only amplifies that speculation. With sitting President Owen Gladstone’s approval ratings at a dismal 29%, and the two projected frontrunners, Governor Richard Bertrand of Louisiana and Senator Annabelle Shaw of Kentucky, having difficulty building enthusiasm within their own parties, a Griggs ticket could add a jolt of excitement currently lacking in the early days of the race.

  Spokespeople for both the RNC and DNC declined to comment on the speculation of a Griggs run. And if Griggs does announce, it remains to be seen as to whether he would run on a Republican or Democratic ticket.

  But if there’s one thing people have learned about Rawson Griggs: always expect the unexpected.

  Remy had waited in line for the last Star Wars movie. He’d been to concerts, clubs, gallery openings, and parades. But he’d never seen anything like the horde outside of Griggs Tower on Monday morning.

  Hundreds of people packed the sidewalks of midtown Manhattan, waiting to get a glimpse of Rawson Griggs. Leading up to the event, the media had speculated wildly, but there was still a palpable buzz, a curiosity, as to just what would happen. Police barriers cordoned off the entrance. Cops searched every purse and backpack. There were enough metal detectors to cover the Super Bowl. Eventually, the lobby of the Castle grew so crowded with media and fans the cops locked down the tower. It was a spectacle like Remy had never witnessed

  The Griggs inner circle waited on the second floor of the Castle. The entire section had been closed down for Rawson’s use. Eight of them waited. They could hear the crowd buzzing below. Remy looked around. Waiting were Alena Griggs and Paul Bracewell. Kenneth Murphy. Rebecca Blum. Phillip Costanzo. Jerry Kapinski. Rawson Griggs.

  And Jeremy Stanton.

  In just a few moments, Remy would be on television, broadcast live to millions of people, standing on a stage with a man known the world over. His mundane life of just a few weeks ago had evaporated. Nothing would ever be the same.

  Remy rubbed his shoulder, flexed his left hand. He could see the faint surgical scar just above the knuckle on his ring finger. This was his first day without wearing his sling. His shoulder was sore, but the pain was bearable. Today was about showing strength.

  Rawson stood in the center. He was silent, head bowed, eyes closed. His black suit shone like armor, his bold red tie like a thick artery down his barrel chest. His beard was neatly trimmed, dark brown hair impeccable, not a strand out of place. He stood tall and looked proud. He looked like a general. Remy pictured the battle gear decorating Rawson’s apartment. Maybe Rawson truly thought he was a general. Which would presumably make Remy a soldier.

  He wanted to earn the man’s respect. Reward his faith.

  Remy checked his watched. Eight fifty. Ten minutes to show time.

  The crowd noise grew. Rawson had instructed the fire marshal to ignore capacity limits. He wanted the event to feel less like a stodgy announcement and more like a rock concert.

  He thought about what Rawson said in his office.

  Showmanship is part of the game.

  “If I can have a moment,” Rawson said, stepping forward in front of the group. “I’d like to thank you all for embarking on this journey with me. Some of the people here have worked beside me for years. Some of them I’ve only just begun to know. The next year will not be easy. We will face obstacles that will test us like we’ve never been tested. We’ll make enemies the likes of which we’ve never faced. There will be late nights. Hard times. You will spend time away from your homes and your families. There may even be times when you question your resolve. But when all is said and done, you will be proud of what we accomplish. Today begins the revolution. And I wouldn’t go into battle with anyone else.”

  Remy felt a slight tug on his suit jacket. He looked over and saw Alena standing next to him. She was wearing a form-fitting peach blouse and gorgeous pearl necklace. She mouthed the words thank you. Remy smiled back and nodded. Paul Bracewell stood next to her. He looked pale, sweaty. He shifted from foot to foot, anxious. Alena noticed Remy looking at Paul. She sighed. There was nothing to say.

  Rawson checked his watch.

  “Eight fifty-seven,” he said. “Jerry, take us down.”

  Jerry Kapinski stepped out in front.

  “Remember,” Kapinski said, “there will be twenty cameras on you at all times. Millions are watching live, and millions more will stream it or see clips. Every move you make will be recorded. Don’t speak. Don’t cough or sneeze or stumble. If you pick your nose, just leave and never come back. And smile. Look happy. You want to be here. Let everybody know. Just keep that in mind and you’ll be fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

  Kapinski led the way, followed by Costanzo, Blum, Remy, Kenneth Murphy, Paul Bracewell, Alena Griggs, and then Rawson Griggs. They marched single file towards the escalator bank.

  Remy could hear the crowd growing louder. They were restless. They wanted Rawson. They wanted the main event.

  Remy was hyper-aware of every nerve in his body. He did a mental scan for any itches, pain, or discomfort. Better to deal with it now. His shoulder felt sore. Remy ignored it. As they approached the escalator bank, Remy finally saw the madness that awaited them. The scene in the Castle lobby took his breath away.

  A large podium was erected, flanked by American flags. A swarm of at least a thousand people was packed into the lobby and gathered in front of the podium.

  He couldn’t count the number of television cameras. It had to be dozens. He couldn’t begin to count how many cell phones were out and recording. Easily hundreds. A standing lectern and microphone were set up in the middle of the podium. There was enough room on either side of the lectern for the rest of the group to stand.

  Kapinski led them onto the escalator in order. The moment Jerry Kapinski’s feet touched the escalator, the crowd erupted. People were holding homemade signs and cheering.

  GRIGGS FOR AMERICA

  NO RAW DEAL WITH RAWSON

  TIRED OF THE SAME OLD SAME OLD

  GET ON THE GRIGGS TRAIN

  As Remy stepped onto the escalator, a massive smile spread across his face. He didn’t need to fake it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. For the first time in years, he felt a true sense of pride.

  People were cheering for him.

  “Jeremy!”

  “We love you, Remy Stanton!”

  Remy tried to pinpoint where the cheers were coming from, but there were too many people, too many faces, too many voices. He saw a sign that read:

  JEREMY STANTON: HEROES CHOOSE GRIGGS

  It made him shiver. It made him feel alive.

  One by one, they descended the escalator. The chants and cheers grew progressively louder. When Alena Griggs got on the escalator, she waved to the crowd. It reminded Remy of photos of Princess Diana, Jackie Kennedy. The crowd ate it up. She was the heir to all of it, the best of both worlds. The power and strength of her father, but b
eauty and grace second to none.

  Finally, Rawson Griggs stepped onto the escalator. The crowd rose, thousands clapping, roaring, chanting “Griggs! Griggs! Griggs!” Rawson held his hand up high to welcome the masses gathered in the building that bore his name, the monolith he had built from the crowd up.

  The others stepped onto the stage, flanking Rawson. Remy stood between Jerry Kapinski and Phillip Costanzo. Rawson slowly walked towards the podium. He was clapping gently, applauding the crowd for being there. He was a master showman. The crowd was eating it up. Remy scanned the audience. They were transfixed by the show.

  A bank of small television monitors, tuned to different stations, was embedded in the floor of the podium, tilted slightly upward, so Rawson and the others could see how they appeared live.

  The CNN chyron read: RAWSON GRIGGS EXPECTED TO ANNOUNCE CANDIDACY FOR PRESIDENT.

  Fox News showed a beaming, nattily dressed Phillip Costanzo, with the chyron: BELOVED FORMER MAYOR EXPECTED TO SUPPORT GRIGGS BID.

  NBC was focused on Remy. His heart sped up. The chyron read: UES HERO STANTON ATTENDS ANNOUNCEMENT IN SUPPORT OF GRIGGS.

  Finally, Rawson Griggs reached the podium. He soaked in cheers for another minute. Then he put up his hands, asking the crowd for silence. And when they complied, Rawson turned to face the wall behind him. Suddenly a massive sign unfurled.

  It read:

  GRIGGS FOR PRESIDENT: THE BEAST WITHIN

  The crowd erupted like they’d all just won the lottery.

  “Griggs, Griggs, Griggs!”

  The chants grew louder. Rawson let them go on. He soaked it in. Not just for him, but for the cameras. He beamed with pride, and made sure to look into each television camera to show it.

  Finally, the chants died down.

  Once the lobby was quiet, Rawson began.

  “Thank you all for being here this morning. This may strike some people as strange, but I’ve never sought the spotlight. My success has opened my private life to the public, and I have long accepted that. But today, for the first time, I sought out the spotlight. For the first time, I wanted to open up my life to the millions of men and women across this great country. Today, I want Americans across this great land to witness history. I want the world to witness history. Because today heralds a new dawn. Today we alter our destiny. Today, the long forgotten men and woman of this proud country will be forgotten no more. Because today, I, Rawson Griggs, am proud to announce my candidacy for president of the United States.”

  The crowd went crazy. Remy had never heard anything like it before, and he hadn’t missed a Super Bowl in twenty years. Remy could see people openly weeping, waving American flags, hugging each other like they’d just been raptured.

  Another “Griggs! Griggs! Griggs!” chant broke out. This time, Rawson raised his hands quickly, asking people to quiet down.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Now, you might ask the meaning behind our campaign slogan. The Beast Within. This statement matters to me because, the truth is, America has gone soft. We are overfed and underworked. And sadly, we have gotten used to it. But no more. From this day forward, every man, woman, and child will realize that there is a beast in all of us. And when that beast is strong, when that beast is hungry, nothing can stand in its way. I will unleash the beast in every one of you, and we will make this nation great again!”

  The crowd cheered, “Beast! Beast! Beast!”

  “You all are,” Rawson said. “You’re hungry! For far too long, our country has been run by insiders and careerists, politicians who do nothing but spend money to get elected and then reelected, and then when they are expected to do their jobs, they are too busy campaigning. A vicious cycle where nothing gets done and you’re forced to swallow it. That system is broken. It is outdated. We will swallow it no more. I pledge to break this cycle. To end the madness. For you.” Rawson clenched his fist and drove it down onto the podium to add an exclamation to the last two words.

  Rawson paused. He let the words sink in. There was an angry tremble to his voice. Remy looked out into the crowd. They were nodding along with every word.

  “Just recently,” Rawson said, “there was a terrible attack on my family. An attack perpetrated by two cowards. Criminals who should not have been in this country, but were allowed in because the people in Washington turn a blind eye. They claim to relate to you, until the final ballots are cast. They are con artists: breaking your spirit so they can then claim they know how to fix it. Our tolerance for this hypocrisy ends today.”

  As he spoke the last two words, Rawson Griggs’s hand sliced through the air like a knife.

  Rawson Griggs turned to face Alena Griggs and Paul Bracewell. His lip trembled as he spoke. A righteous anger underlined every word.

  “My daughter and her husband might not be here if not for the heroic actions of one good man. One Samaritan made a difference. One decent man. Not much different from you. He stepped up and did what needed to be done, at risk to his life, without any thought of the price he would pay. And in doing this, he nearly paid with his own life. That man, Jeremy Stanton, is here with me today. I am honored to have Jeremy’s support, and even more deeply honored to call him my friend.”

  Griggs turned around to face Remy, clasped his hands together as if in prayer, bowed slightly and said, “Thank you.”

  The crowd began a long and sustained applause. A “Jeremy! Jeremy! Jeremy!” chant broke out, ringing through the Castle lobby.

  Remy had no idea what to do. He hadn’t known Rawson would single him out. Should he respond? Ignore it? The chants continued, so Remy raised his left arm—his bad arm—and waved to the crowd. He winced, but this was a signal that he had not been broken. Remy saw Rawson smile.

  “Our two-party system is broken,” Griggs continued once the applause had died down. “Owen Gladstone will leave office with one of the lowest approval ratings in the history of our country. And the candidates put forward by our two major parties reek like moldy cheese. They have shipped your jobs overseas. Watched as our factories closed. Sat back as our standing in the world diminished. They have authorized sanctions that have smothered nations that could work with us. And yet they still hold out their hands to you, the people they bilk day in and day out. We have embraced failed policies like the Truman Doctrine, which have depleted our resources and turned us from the world’s superpower into the world’s nanny.”

  Rawson continued. “Washington is a septic tank. And I am going to drain it.”

  A massive round of applause echoed through the room, followed by a chant of, “Drain the tank! Drain the tank!”

  “I’m telling you, right here and now, that Rawson Griggs will be financing his own campaign. It might cost me a hundred million dollars. It might cost me a billion dollars. But I will not come begging, hat in hand, to the very people I pledge to help. I want to make you money. Isn’t that a novel idea?”

  The crowd laughed.

  “Now, you might be wondering. My words are harsh. So which party will I be running for? Well, I’ll tell you this: I will not be running for president as a Democrat. But nor will I be running for president as a Republican.”

  A murmur of confusion broke out.

  “I am running for the American people, in order to siphon the poison from our capital. But in order to do that, we need to look back. Look to our history. To what our country once was, and can be again.”

  Rawson waited a beat. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Remy knew where Griggs was going, but he had a thousand people captivated and energized and would draw out the moment.

  “Nearly three hundred years ago,” Griggs continued, “a ship carrying one hundred and two men, women, and children sailed across the Atlantic Ocean from Southampton on the southern coast of England. They sailed in order to escape persecution. They were searching for hope. They were seeking the new world. It took them two whole months to cross the ocean, all the while braving harsh winds and the pounding of the sea. Their provisions ran perilousl
y low. Many of these souls did not make the journey from Southampton. And those who did survive, to land on the other side of world, were greeted by a harsh winter, unfamiliar territory, and hostile natives. Many more died. But those who survived, escaping oppression and the ruling class who no longer served them, became the backbone for what would later become America.

  “That ship was called the Mayflower. It anchored at Cape Cod on November 11, 1620. And on that day, the survivors signed a document. That document was called The Mayflower Compact.”

  Griggs reached into his pocket and produced a piece of parchment. He unfolded it and held it out to the crowd.

  “This is a replica of the Mayflower Compact,” Griggs said. “It reads, in part: ‘Do by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God, and one another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body politic; for our better ordering, and preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute, and frame, such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the colony; unto which we promise all due submission and obedience.’”

  Rawson continued.

  “Abraham Lincoln once said, ‘America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.’ Today I stand here and state unequivocally that he Republican Party is no longer the party of Lincoln.”

  Rawson paused again. He scanned the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he could.

  A man in the back yelled, “We love you Rawson!”

  Rawson continued.