The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology
Page 26
Chris lifted his right leg to the surface, where Paige held his foot and peered at his big toe.
“Oh, Chris, it's already swollen. And is that – yup, there's a tiny trickle of blood. Let me – oops.”
“Ow.”
“I'm sorry; my hand slipped. I'm sorry. Does it feel broken?”
“I don't think so. But I'm not sure I can keep my body in this position much longer.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.” She let his foot go and it sank back into the water; he sighed in relief.
“I think you'll need a bandage on that.”
“Not if it's gonna squeeze it.”
“No, but if we put it on carefully, it'll help.”
“I used to have some in my fanny pack, but not now.”
“I'll bet they have some up at the office. I'll go get one, okay?”
“The office is next to --”
“I know where to go. Be right back. Go in and dry it off as best you can, okay? Got something for the blood?”
“Yeah, I've got some tissues in my pack, I think.”
“Hey, Chris,” Jake said, “let me help you out. Where's your stuff?”
“Thanks, Jake. We're just up there.” He pointed to a couple of chairs on the sand, a few dozen feet north of Jake and Pam's spot.
“Okay; let's go. Keep off that toe. I know how bad those can hurt.”
By the time Paige got back with some bandages, Chris had managed to dry his foot almost completely, although it was still a bit moist in some places. Jake and Pam stood by, watching, ready to help if needed.
Paige carefully began applying the bandage to Chris' toe.
“Yow! Easy, easy.”
“I'm sorry, Chris. I've got to put it on just right or you could get a blister. Hey, quit twitching, okay?”
“Sorry.”
“There; all done. Feel okay, hon?”
“Well, I'm not writhing in ecstasy, but it does feel better.”
Paige looked over at Jake and asked, “Where would something like that come from? How could it get exposed like that?”
Jake frowned and then said, “Maybe that storm we had last month. It dug out the sand here by the shore and built up the sand bar out there. Next storm, it'll probably reverse itself.”
“So not a volcanic eruption or anything?”
Jake laughed. “I don't think there's ever been a volcanic eruption in the Gulf … well, not since the Ice Age, at least.”
Chris said, “Thanks for your help, Jake. I tell ya, being 83 can suck.”
“No problem, Chris. Hope it heals soon. Take care. See ya later, Paige.”
As Pam and Jake headed back to the water, Pam said, “They seemed like a nice couple.”
“Yup. I don't know 'em too well; I've only talked with 'em a few times.”
“They seem very much in love.”
“They do? Yeah, I guess so. Sorry. I was thinking if I could use them in the book somehow.”
“Like how Donne could – oh, that reminds me. There's a typo in his first speech, when he legalizes gay marriage; you left the 'I' out, so it was 'marrage,' r-r-a-g-e.”
“I meant to do that.”
“You did? Why?”
“It's Donne's sop to the religious right, just so they can't bitch that he's legalizing gay marriage; same thing, all the same rights and all, but it's got that one tiny little semantic difference. So if they bring it up, he can argue that's not exactly the same.”
“What do you mean, 'if' they bring it up? You're writing it.”
“I'm not sure if it's worth writing out all the stuff I'd need to to get into and through that argument; I'm not sure yet how Donne would feel about me doing that, either. We don't always agree on every – I'm sorry; that sounds crazy. It's just how I do the writing sometimes.”
Pam raised en eyebrow and said, “Really? What do you mean?”
“Well, remember that he's got two czars, one for anti-hubris and one for unintended consequences, Cissy and Cody.”
“Right.”
“Okay. So I play a sorta mental game with them and Donne. If I have a problem with some issue, I call the three of them up and ... now, this is the part that might sound a little crazy ... and stick them in a sort of boardroom, give them the issue and let them argue it out. This is just imaginary, okay?”
“Okay,” Pam said, a bit hesitantly.
“And then I let them go back down into my subconscious and work it out, sometimes just overnight, sometimes as long as it takes. I mean, I gave them the Medicare/Medicaid challenge a couple of months after I first started this whole thing, and they hashed it around until this past May … or maybe June … before they popped the idea of the HSAs up into my conscious brain, just as I was waking up one morning.
“And then, if I'm quick enough, I'll grab my notebook and write out as much as I can remember, stick it with my other notes, and then finally write out either a speech, a question at a press conference or a discussion with somebody to get that out.
“Like that meeting he had with the guy from HHS-OIG, the guy going after Medicare fraudsters.”
“Yeah, I remember that. Jim something, right?”
“Yeah. I don't remember his last name now. That was written way before the HSA idea popped up.”
“You know that HSAs have been around for a long time, right?”
“Yeah, and they fit with Donne's basic premise of returning power and choice to the individual, to the people. So he made them – I mean, I made them the cornerstone of his policy on Medicare.
“And Cody, of course, reminded Donne that whenever there's a chunk of money anywhere, somebody somewhere is going to be looking for some way to steal it. So he's always got to build in safeguards against that. But I don't want to get too overly arcane in writing the book; I mean, it's boring enough as it is.”
“For some people, Jake. I find the whole idea fascinating.”
“But you've been on the inside and you've got a pretty high IQ. Most people haven't been and don't.”
“'Most people' being 51 percent or 92?”
Jake chuckled. “I don't know; somewhere between. Like Chris and Paige there. They're pretty typical of people their age, and I keep people like them in mind in figuring out what Donne might do and what the unintended consequences might be.”
“And that's where Cissy and Cody come in and they all toss it around?”
“Right. For example, most retirees like them aren't getting any income at all on their savings, and for a long time there was a floor of five percent on money market funds and --”
“I remember that.”
“So what happened to make that go away? I don't know. But if Donne, for example, were to mandate a five percent floor again, that would help them, but who would get hurt and what other ripple effects would there be? And how would that fit in with his basic principles? And who'd get pissed off enough to take out a contract for his assassination?”
“Why assassination?”
“So there's some drama and action in there. And he sticks to his guns, so negotiation and lobbying don't work, so they go extreme.”
Pam thought about that for a moment and then said, “How about a really good betrayal? Wouldn't that add some drama?”
Jake winced and said, “Oh, Pam, you're getting ahead of me there.”
“You've already got one of those? I didn't see it.”
“Haven't written that part yet. And sorry, can't tell you … at least for now.”
Pam fake-pouted again. “Okay, Jake; guess I can live with that.”
Jake said, “Sorry.”
Pam leaned back on her noodle again and let her body float. “Ahhhhh. This feels so good. The water is a perfect temperature, maybe even a teeny bit too warm.”
“I think the news said it was 88 degrees, but this does feel a little warmer, maybe 88 and a quarter – no, 88 and three-eighths. Last summer we had a whole week where it was 95; now, THAT was too warm, not even refreshing. But that was really unusual.”
“In the what?”
“The winter.”
“What does that word mean?”
“Oh, Jake, c'mon; you know.”
“Okay. Last February it got down to 58.”
“58? Geez, that IS cold.”
“When I lived in Boston – well, Cambridge, actually, when the Atlantic got up to 60, we thought that was great. Late August.”
“And now?”
“Below 80 or 81, I only go in if I really gotta go … in.”
“Well, you sound spoiled, Mr. Devlin, suh.”
“Yup, I am that … and gloatingly so.”
“Well, that's a new record.”
“A new record? What new record?”
“I'm sure that was longer than three and a half minutes of you being serious.”
“Oh, god,” Jake said, slapping his forehead. “I am going crazy. I knew I shouldn't have eaten that tofu-salami-and-chocolate salad.”
Pam chuckled. “Ah, he's baaaack.”
“And he needs to get baaaack on shore and write some notes down before he forgets 'em.”
“I'll join you; I could use some sun time.”
“You've actually got a pretty good tan already.”
“Just a start. Would you put some sunscreen on my back?”
“I'd be happy to … hope it's not that greasy, oily stuff.”
“Nope, this is the creamy kind.”
“Okay, then. Let's go.”
Jill and Carie looked at each other, smiled and said, almost simultaneously, “This may be good.”
Sharon broke in with, “Damn well better be.”
-63-
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
9:05 a.m. Local time
Lugano, Switzerland
An extremely obese woman using the name Michele sidled up to an equally obese man waiting at the Biblioteca Cantonale and said, “Do you know what 'Svizzera' means?”
The man replied, “'Sauna,' I believe.”
Michele responded, “Actually, it's 'Switzerland.' 'Sauna' would be 'schvitz.'”
“Okay, um, Michele,” he said, looking at a card in his hand, “I'm here and I left the key in the largest snowbank next to the ticket counter outside the train station.”
“I know,” she replied. “Our associate has already picked up the deposit and the target information from the locker.”
“So we're all set?”
(The remainder of this conversation closely duplicated the ones between Missy, the Andorran's rep, and the lobbyist's rep in Bangkok, and between Andreana, the Reaper's rep, and the televangelist's rep in Arlington, Virginia, USA.
In this one, Michele represented The Linguist and the man represented a gaggle of environmentalists, tree-huggers and flower-fondlers from around the world; they reached precisely the same terms as the previous two.
The target was the same in all three.)
-64-
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
9:35 a.m. EST
The White House
Washington, DC
Emily escorted the four disheveled union bosses and their equally haggard-looking lawyers into the Oval Office, surrounded by both guards and Secret Service agents. Donne, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in his crisp denim jeans and newly ironed tropical shirt, smiled at the seven men and one woman.
“Lady, gentlemen, today you are all free to go; you have served your sentences … well, most of them; this is an early release. We need the space now.”
Ms. Skinner was the first to speak. “Sir, we are going to object to this forced --”
“Object all you want, ma'am. File whatever kinds of suits you choose. But remember that in addition to owning the executive and legislative branches, I also own … and am … the judicial branch.
“Without getting too arcane … and I know you lawyer types love to get into as much arcanity as you can … any efforts you make will be immediately shot down, no matter what court you choose for your venue.”
“We will be filing our objection with the World Court, Mr. Donne. Under international law, what you have done to us violates all levels of due process and constitutes human rights violations of the most serious --”
“Sit down and shut up, lady. Right there.” He pointed to a chair.
She remained standing with her group.
“Okay, then. Emily, return this entire group to their cells for another two weeks. We'll squeeze the newbies into the other cells, and we'll have to find some more space somewhere for the overflow.”
One of the agents said, “Mr. Donne, we have some additional cells in the basement of the EOB, Executive Office Building.”
“Enough for these eight?”
“Yes, sir; room for three times that.”
“And are those Level A accommodations?”
“No, sir; Level C, and some Level D.”
“Well, I think that's appropriate for these folks.
“Emily, take them over to those cells, the Level D's, and begin them on the lower level diet, as well.”
“Tofu plus, sir?”
Donne nodded.
“With pleasure, sir.
“Gentlemen, lady, follow me. Guards.”
Once they had all left the Oval Office, Donne wriggled around in his shirt, crumpling it where he could reach, and rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the creases.
Emily returned and said, “They're on their way; Tom and Lin will get them all settled in and get them their jumpsuits. I do like the paisley for the men and madras for the woman.”
“Good, good. Now I guess it's time for the next batch. Are they ready?”
“Standing by, well guarded.”
Donne sat back down, picked up some papers and said, “Showtime, Emily. Bring 'em in.”
“Right away, Gordy,” she replied, chuckling.
“Oh, Emily, no more starch in this stuff,” Donne said, smiling.
“I'll tell Shawn.” She smiled and nodded. “Here we go.”
She returned a few minutes later, escorting nine men and eight women, accompanied by three guards and three Secret Service agents. Donne stayed seated behind his desk, inspecting each of the 17 new arrivals closely as the guards lined them up in three rows in front of his desk.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Donne began, smiling his brightest smile. “Before we begin, I'd like to remind you all of an old quote from a noted, but disreputable, figure from America's past, specifically the time of Prohibition.
“His name was Alphonse Capone, and the quote I'm referencing was this: 'You can get more with a smile --'” Donne paused for a good ten seconds -- “'and a gun --'” he paused again, for maybe two seconds – “'than you can with just a smile.' Now some history.
“My grandpappy was a Texas Ranger at a time when this Capone clown was thinking about expanding the reach of his Chicago mob into Texas.
“In the early '30s, Capone sent a bunch of his guys as a sort of advance party down to the Lone Star State, and they started raising all sorts of hell in one area up in the Panhandle, scaring the locals out of their wits and extorting protection money from the businesses in the area.
“Well, my grandpappy was part of a team that got sent up there to deal with these Chicago clowns and courteously invite them to go back up north and never return to Texas.
“But you know something? These mugs were not all that open to a courteous invitation, in spite of the fine smiles that all of the Rangers had on their faces. In fact, they responded with guns to the Rangers' smiles. That was the last mistake they made in Texas.
“Now, none of them died there on the scene, but they all scooted back north with at least a little bit of good ol' Texas lead somewhere in their anatomies, which made the scooting a little more painful than normal scooting would be. And since it was February, also a little colder.
“A lot of that lead came from my grandpappy's trusty revolvers; he always ca
rried four of them. He emptied 'em all in that little gunfight, smiling all the time. And he never got a scratch on him.
“While good ol' Al believed in a smile and a gun, the Rangers believed in a smile and more guns, more than the bad guys had.
“The rangers bandaged all the wounded, packed 'em up and sent 'em on their way, with one very clear message for that Capone dude, which was very simple.
“'Do not ever try to rip off the people of Texas, in any way, shape or form, or you will face the consequences.' What was not included in the message was that he and his team were the consequences. He felt that Mr. Capone was bright enough to infer that from the battered wounded bodies that greeted him when he met the train in Chicago.
“What those mugs told Capone is lost to history, but whatever it was, it was enough to convince the mobster to keep his operations out of the fine state of Texas.
“Now, my grandpappy may have embellished that story a wee bit here and there, but the moral of the story, and the reason I'm telling it to all of you, is that trying to rip off people brings with it serious consequences. In his case he was protecting the people of Texas, in my case, the people of the entire United States of America, especially in their roles as taxpayers, consumers, retirees and Medicare and Medicaid clients.
“And you 17 people have been ripping off the people I'm sworn to protect for years, you six with your over-priced mobility devices that you bill to Medicare and private insurance companies; you four with your reverse mortgages with hidden charges and outrageous interest rates; you five with your upcoding in your bills to Medicare and to private insurance companies; and you two with your over-priced and under-performing catheters and other so-called 'medical supplies' for diabetics and incontinents.
“Now, you 17 are only the first of hundreds of your ilk that we are tracking down and bringing in to face the consequences. And I am the cutting edge of those consequences.
“The first consequence is that, although you can expect due process, that due process is not necessarily a court process, but is the process as I define it, wearing the three hats that I wear as the owner of this country.