The Senator's Choice

by Noel Nash

  “Yes, sir. If we get lucky, maybe we can get him inside.”

  Intrigued with the device, Hammond grunted. “This little thing can do all that?”

  “All without getting caught,”Shepherd said.“It can even tag something so we can track it using GPS.”

  Matthews snapped his fingers. “Well, work your magic, Shepherd. We need their vehicle marked, and we need to know how many people are inside. And we don’t have much time.” He gestured for Shepherd to take the device and pointed toward the house.

  “Just give me a second.” Shepherd typed on his laptop for a few moments before a screen opened up that showed what the device was seeing. “Now we’re ready.”

  Shepherd picked up a control device and flicked it on. Within seconds the device took flight and hovered toward the cabin. The team crowded around him as they all studied the images transmitted back to the computer.

  “Does this thing have audio?” Matthews asked.

  “I was getting to that before you cut me off,”Shepherd said.

  “Sorry. Just turn it up so we can hear it.”

  The hum from the blades that helped the device fly wasn’t even audible.“Are you sure it’s even on?” Matthews asked.

  “Patience.”

  As the device neared the cabin, the front door swung open. Out walked a man talking on his cell phone. The sudden activity prompted Shepherd to land it on a tree and wait. And watch — and listen.

  The video zoomed in on an upstairs window.

  “That’s Luke,” Shepherd said excitedly.

  “What’s that on his face?” Zellers asked.

  Matthews clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “Do you need to ask?” He paused. “Those savages have beaten him.”

  “Those monsters,” Hammond said. “Wait till I get my hands on them.”

  Shepherd changed the field of view, focusing on the lower portion of that house. A man exited through the front door.

  “Who’s that?” Zellers whispered.

  “Dave Dumas,” Matthews answered as they all stared at the screen. “Now, hush. Let’s listen to what he’s saying.”

  With surprising clarity, Dave’s conversation on the phone came through the laptop speakers.

  “He’s holding up fine — but I don’t know how much longer he can take it.”

  Silence.

  Matthews could feel the heat in his face rising, rage filling him. It took every ounce of restraint to not charge across the river and gun for Dave.

  “Oh, the boy’s fine. He seems to be handling everything like a pro.” He chuckled. “He’s so calm, it’s almost as if he’s done this before.”

  Matthews exhaled and felt his blood pressure drop.

  A clicking noise started to interfere with the audio.

  “What is that, Shepherd?”

  “I—I don’t know.” Shepherd clicked away on his keyboard, trying to determine what was going on.

  “So, what’s the plan for the kid tomorrow after the vote?”

  Matthews swatted Shepherd’s hands. “Hush. We need to hear this.”

  Shepherd froze and leaned his ear toward the speaker.

  “I think we can handle that. We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like anybody is going to find us out here. We’ll put him where—”

  The audio became garbled with high-pitched screeching noises while the device tumbled to the ground.

  “What’s going on, Shepherd?” Matthews demanded.

  “I can’t control it,” he said. “Something’s got it.” Shepherd pecked on the laptop and changed the camera position. Two beady eyes stared back at them. It was a squirrel.

  Seconds later, the immobile device was permanently stationed in a nest high above one of the pines soaring over the cabin.

  “A lot of good that does us now,” Matthews said. “I hate technology.”

  “I hate squirrels,”Shepherd said.

  “Pack up,” Matthews said. “Can’t be much more than the three of them we saw on the video in that truck. We’ve gotta move and get our plan together.”

  “What are you thinking?” Zellers asked.

  “If we’re gonna make a clean escape, we won’t be able to do it on foot. We need some more equipment — and we need to spend the rest of the night plotting out a fool-proof rescue plan.”

  “No plan’s fool proof,” Hammond said.

  “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,”Jones snapped.

  “Just stating the obvious.”

  Matthews stopped and eyed everyone closely. “We may not come up with a fool-proof plan, but we better come up with a way to get Luke outta there by tomorrow morning or else we may never see him alive again.”

  He spun and lumbered toward their van, kicking a few small rocks as he went. He was itching for a fight. And he was determined to give Dave Dumas one he’d never forget.

  CHAPTER 34

  SENATOR DANIELS ARRIVED at Capitol Grill early so he could grab a drink in the bar while he waited for Sarah. He ordered a scotch, neat. The more alcohol in the glass the better. Anything to take the edge off while the hours dripped past like months.

  A leggy blonde settled next to him at the bar and cut her eyes at him. Daniels noticed her glances and tried to ignore her. He wanted to be alone.

  “Woman problems?” she asked.

  He shook his head and stared at the bottom of his empty glass. “Worse. Kid problems.”

  She put her hand on his arm and leaned in close. “That’s why I don’t have any—nor do I ever intend to have any.”

  Daniels refused to take her bait. Perhaps it was a line that worked on the city’s power-hungry politicians looking for a break from the drudgery of their marriage. But it disgusted Daniels.

  He raised his hand to get the bartenders attention and gestured for another drink.

  Daniels turned toward her. “Kids are worth every minute of the heartache —and don’t believe anyone else if they tell you otherwise.”

  She rolled her eyes and took a large gulp of her wine. Without another word, she spun around and staggered down the bar in search of another empty seat.

  I see I haven’t lost my touch in turning off women.

  He chuckled to himself before downing another glass of scotch.

  Before he could set the glass down, Daniels felt a slap in the back and booming voice.

  “Better go easy there, senator. You might have to drive me home tonight,” boomed the man’s voice.

  Daniels looked over his shoulder to see Wes Brady, the long-time Texas senator who livened up any room he walked into. Brady sported a white cowboy hat along with boots and spurs that he claimed belonged to Billy the Kid. Whenever asked about the spurs, Brady launched into a well-embellished story about their origin and how his great grandfather won them in a poker game with the famous sheriff from Lincoln County, New Mexico named Pat Garrett, who shot and killed Billy the Kid. Nobody on the Hill believed Brady’s story — or much of anything that came out of his mouth. But his Texas pride and deft salesmanship earned him a return trip to Washington every six years without much of a challenge for the better part of the past three decades.

  “Senator Brady, what has you out here tonight?”

  He pulled out a cigar and slowly ran it in front of his nose while he inhaled the aroma. “Just celebratin’a little victory a night early.”

  “And what kind of victory might that be?”

  Brady settled into the seat warmed moments ago by the petulant blonde. “The kind that squashed your little pipeline.”

  Daniels glared at Brady. “The kind that did what?”

  “You heard me, unless there’s too much steam comin’out of your ears to listen.” He chuckled. “Your pipeline is gone with the wind.” He paused. “And don’t tell me you don’t give a damn.”

  Daniels didn’t — but he did. He’d poured his life and spent all his political capital to assure the passage of that bill. And now Brady was doing a victory dance all over it, spiking him with his Bill
y the Kid spurs just for spite. If what Brady said was true, at least he couldn’t be blamed for the bill’s inability to pass.

  Brady slapped him again on the back. “Sucks to be on the wrong side of history — again.” He blew a ring with his cigar smoke and watched his drift upward until it dissipated. “That pipeline is coming to Texas where it belongs.”

  Daniels bit his lip. “I thought we were on the same team — brothers, comrades. I guess I was wrong.”

  “I’m on team ‘don’t mess with Texas’,” he snapped. “And if Texas wants a new pipeline, Texas is going to get it.”

  “Not without my support.”

  Brady leaned back on his stool and slapped his knee, laughing. “If this senator thing doesn’t work out for you, there’s a heck of a comedy club on Connecticut Avenue that sure could use your brand of humor.” He shook his head and snickered.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Daniels started, “if the bill doesn’t pass tomorrow, I’ll buy you dinner and all the drinks you want.”

  Brady smiled. “You sure you can afford that? I have been known to put away some very expensive whiskey.”

  “Direct from the distributor on a trip they paid for to the Virgin Islands from what I hear.”

  Brady wagged his finger and shook his head. “No below the belt shots tonight. I haven’t had enough to drink.”

  “Come see me after dinner,” Daniels quipped before directing his attention back to his empty glass.

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” Brady said. He slapped Daniels on the back again and stood up. “My table’s waiting — just as soon as I pick up that blonde down there at the end of the bar.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love you,” Daniels said with a wave.

  With Brady gone, he could focus on what needed to be done — though it was a long list of things he couldn’t actually do himself.

  Rescue Luke.

  Pass the pipeline bill.

  Ask Sarah to marry him.

  Well, the last one was an exception, but it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Though if he was ever going to do it, he couldn’t keep secrets like this from her. He felt awful about it and couldn’t believe that he’d managed to keep such a traumatic event in his life from her. But heneededto talk to someone about it. He needed to talk toher.

  With another glass of scotch, he weighed the pros and cons of telling her. They might find out, but what are they going to do at this point? Whoever was behind this kidnapping needed him — or at least, they thought they did. He didn’t buy into Wes Brady’s grandiose claims since he knew his staff’s latest straw poll was far more accurate than a braggart strutting around the Hill with what he claimed were a pair of spurs that belonged to Billy the Kid. And if he told Sarah tonight, it might be enough to help him get through the vote scheduled for one o’clock on Friday afternoon. He neededthatmore than anything.

  A gentle touch on his back snapped Daniels out of his stupor as he turned around.

  “Senator Daniels, your table is ready,” said a young hostess.

  Daniels left a hundred-dollar bill on the table and followed the woman. He’d barely settled into his chair before Sarah arrived. He stood up and knocked over his drink. The water splashed across the table and splattered onto Sarah’s dress.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Sarah,” he said.

  She smiled while she daubed her dress with her napkin. “It’s okay, really. It’s just water.”

  “I know but—” he paused and took a deep breath. “This isn’t how I wanted the evening to start out.”

  She smiled. “My daddy always said it’s not how you start but how you finish.”

  Daniels sat down. “Your daddy was a wise man.”

  She brushed the water droplets on her chair onto the floor with her napkin and took a seat. “So, you’ve been jumpy lately. Is there anything you want to talk to me about?”

  He took a deep breath. “Actually there is.”

  “Go on.”

  “I— I haven’t been completely honest with you, Sarah.”

  She slapped the table, making Daniels jump. “Stop the presses,” she said. “A Washington senator is claiming that he hasn’t been honest with me.” She held a straight face for a few moments before a grin spread across her face. “Gotcha!”

  He forced a smile. “I’m serious, Sarah. I really haven’t.”

  “And?”

  “And Luke isn’t sick.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “He’s been kidnapped.”

  Sarah’s eyes bugged out as she glared at him. “What? You mean he’s not sick?”

  “Did you just hear me?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes, but I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’ve been lying to me for the past few days.”

  “You don’t understand, Sarah. I—”

  “No, you don’t understand. Relationships are built on trust and you should’ve told me.”

  “I couldn’t. I mean, I—”

  She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. “You what?”

  Daniels looked down at the table and picked up his fork. “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “What do you mean you couldn’t tell me? You can tell me anything.”

  “They told me if I told anyone, they’d kill him.”

  She gasped loudly and put her hand over her mouth, aware of how much attention she’d attracted to herself. She looked around at the rest of the restaurant and caught a few luring glances. With her head cocked to the side, she slid her hands across the table and reached for Daniels.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” he said. “I understand how you could be upset if you don’t know everything. It’s just that I’ve wanted to tell you this whole time. I’ve needed to talk to somebody — anybody.”

  “So nobody knows?” she asked.

  He sighed.“My brother-in-law knows. Former brother-in-law. Whatever. Seth Matthews knows.”

  “Why’d you tell him?”

  “Because he’s the only one who can do anything about it.”

  She squeezed his hand. “And what’s he been able to do?”

  “Nothing so far. I haven’t been able to reach him today. I’m afraid something might have happened to him.”

  She leaned across the table and whispered, “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it. It’s killing me to tell you right now — though it was killing menotto tell you.”

  “Do you think something happened to him?”

  He shook his head and squeezed her hands back. “I don’t know. These are very dangerous men we’re talking about.”

  “What do they want?”

  He managed a smile, albeit a half-hearted one. “Actually, they share something in common with you.”

  She withdrew and furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “They don’t want the pipeline bill to pass.”

  “That’swhat this is about? The pipeline?”

  He gestured for her to lower her voice. “Yes. All I have to do is vote against it and supposedly I’ll get Luke back safe and sound.”

  “And you’re not willing to do that? With Luke’s life on the line?”

  He leaned back and took a deep breath. “It should be a no-brainer, right?” He shook his head. “I’m leaning that way, but I don’t know. If I give in to them now, what’s going to happen next? Word about this tactic spreads across the underworld and the next thing you know they’re controlling every vote in the legislature.”

  “As if it’s not happening already.”

  He shook his head. “You might be right, but I’m reticent to cower to this tactic.”

  “Even with Luke’s life on the line?” Her mouth hung agape.

  “Maybe — but fortunately I don’t think it’s going to come to that. My brother-in-law is going to take care of things.”

  “We can only hope.”

  He nodded. “Yes. At this point, it’s
all I can hold onto.”

  ***

  AFTER DINNER, DANIELS CLIMBED into the back of his Lincoln Town car and used his burner phone to call Matthews again for an update. His stomach had been in knots all night — first for breaking his agreement with the kidnappers and telling Sarah and second for not hearing from Matthews. If something happened to him, he’d have to make a decision he didn’t want to make — at least, not without a guilty conscience.

  The phone rang three times. Four. Five.

  “Jeffrey?”

  “Seth? Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Are you all right? I’ve been worried sick.”

  “I’m fine for now — and we think Luke is too.”

  “Did you find him?”

  “Yeah. He’s located in a cabin connected to one of the members of Ophion.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Colorado. Arapaho National Forest, to be exact.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  Matthews bit his lip and lied. “It was hard to tell due to our limited technology capabilities, but we’ve put together an extraction plan for tomorrow. We’re going to get him out.”

  “Are you confident it can work?”

  “I’m betting Luke’s life — and my own — that it will.”

  “Just let me know something by 1 p.m. Eastern time tomorrow. That’s when the vote is. I’d like to know something by then.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as we hear something, but I can’t make any guarantees. You know how these things go sometimes.”

  “Just do your best, Seth.”

  “You know I will.”

  Daniels hung up and watched the D.C. city streetlights flicker by as the car drove him back toward his apartment.

  One way or another, there was only one side he was going to vote tomorrow. And it made him sick.

  “Pull over,” he instructed the driver.

  The car lurched to a stop.

  Daniels opened the door and stumbled out. He heaved and threw up all over the sidewalk. The episode lasted no more than twenty seconds before he climbed back inside. He daubed the edges of his mouth with his handkerchief and buckled himself back in.

  “Go ahead,” he said to the driver.

  The sensation of helplessness overwhelmed him. He punched the side of the car door in frustration and let out a guttural scream.