by Al Cooper
FINAL CHALLENGE
AL COOPER
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XVIII
XXIX
XXX
XXXI
XXXII
XXXIII
XXXIV
XXXV
XXXVI
XXXVII
XXXVIII
XXXIX
XL
I
Every time Harold Freeman glanced around, he crossed with a look that, far from be lost, was looking forward to his. He returned in exchange, without any effort, a smile that seemed to be the prize that the observer was waiting for. Overjoyed, he lived with intensity that time he had so longed and that he thought would never come. He saw himself floating on a cloud surrounded by those who had supported him so much to achieve his goal, the dream that had crossed in recent months the barriers of illusion to become an obsession.
He did not recognize many of the faces found in his fleeting visual inspections, as he chatted animatedly with one of the heavyweights of his political party. After a while he began to realize that, unconsciously, was looking for the features of a face that only existed in his imagination, and at that time could not avoid to leave the conversation while some few tears cropped up in his eyes as he recalled the old Senator Albert Spencer, who twenty years ago had convinced him to run for senator from Tennessee, when his only goal then was to become a partner in one of the most famous law firms in Memphis. Albert hadn’t been only his Cicero and godfather in the party, not only taught him to move in a world hitherto unknown to him, but that over the years the friendship and respect led to a stronger and solid relationship that many blood ties between parents and children. He seemed to be watching Albert's frank smile, his face pleased, his chest swelling with pride as, excited, putting his hand on his shoulder. Because his politic son had reached the highest rung, that one that History only reserve for a few. If his battered heart could have resisted a couple of years, surely he'd be there beside him.
Harold had to overcome his emotion, which threatened to make him lose his composure. He found the antidote needed when he laid eyes on Carol, who was chatting animatedly with the wife of the last President that had had the Party. They had always had a complicity close to magic that bordered almost in mysticism, and had not been broken since he met her in the fourth year of college, during their courtship and eighteen years of marriage. So not surprised that Carol, who was back to him, turned her head within a few seconds, as if she was aware that Harold was watching her, to smile and send him a kiss. She was really there. In fact she always had been. He could not imagine how he would manage to have gone ahead when he was close to throw it all away, when his disenchantment overcame his illusion, if she had not supported him, pointing out the other side of hard road. He never had become governor of Tennessee and, of course, had never been presented as the candidate of his political Party for president. His options, just in one case as in the other, were minimal, almost ridiculous, in front to other candidates who left as favorites. But Carol had made him believe in his possibilities, in his vast capacity for work, in his empathy to connect with people, in his charisma, in his undeniable southern charm perceived in each of his gestures, in the spell of his smile. What nobody knew was that Carol was the only one able to draw the best of himself, that much of his strength lay in her. He looked her carefully up and down, like the first time they met. It was still a gorgeous woman. The years, despite having carved her soul, had allowed her to keep her fantastic figure, which added to her talent and charm, accentuated her natural elegance. Yes, definitely Carol was the woman of his life. Intelligent, strong, beautiful, sensitive, stylish. She sure knew how to win people. She really was the ideal companion whom anyone in his position would have liked has by his side. Although they both knew that child would never come. The adoption was a real possibility that seduced both of them, but it would have to wait at least another four years, the time for the new president of the United States gave his political career as terminated after reaching the top.
Lost in thought, Harold returned to his immediate reality when Harry, the vice presidential candidate imposed by the consensus of the party despite his great reluctance, came to tell the ear.
- I think it's time to go up the stage and satisfy them a bit.
Harold had to make a sublime effort to avoid the first answer that came to his mind. Actually, he always had to struggle to hide his dislike for Harry. In fact he was the only piece of his puzzle that didn’t fit. Accustomed to convince through dialogue, had put forward all its weapons to ensure that Harry was not his vice president, but it was all useless. He had to yield to pressure from the rest of the party, who did not seem ready to lend their support in exchange for nothing, so accepting Harry as a candidate for vice president had become a small price he had to pay. It seemed not so insignificant to him every time that he examined him thoroughly. He could not understand what they had seen in that guy. Inveterate drinker, boastful, sneering at the wrong time, with little tact in personal relationships, Harry based his appeal on his impressive physique, and it always had seemed little baggage to Harold. The more effort he put in trying to find some virtues in him, the more flaws he found. One of Harold's credentials to the electorate was his honesty, his impeccable career, so he came to think that his vice president would be a fraud for his voters, who knew of Harry little more than his wide and studied smile. So, again, he had to suppress his initial impulse to respond.
- Okay, go there.
Then he stared at him. His half lost glance and his red pupils denoted that, once again, had ingested more alcohol than his body could tolerate. So he insisted:
- And remember: you will have ample occasion to intervene. But this time, you should keep out.
Harry took him a look closer to the hatred than the approval, drank half a glass in one gulp and replied looking down
- Okay, okay. You're the boss.
Harold winked to Carol from away, came to her, kissed her and she grabbed his arm. As they approached the stage, the noise became deafening. Applauses, cheers, whistles and shouts mingled in equal parts. The festive show became more latent. Confetti, balloons in the air and, especially, the orchestra. The Manhattan orchestra that Thomas, a great friend of Harold since they had entered the party almost at the same time, had insisted on hiring was being a real success. A jazz band with traditional charm, with the genuine taste that time was demanding. Once on stage, Harold waved his arms and he demanded by signs the presence of all members of his campaign team. They were caught by hands forming a chain, going a few steps back and then running again to the podium, like children. They raised their arms and then made a gesture of reverence to the attendees. It shot the adrenaline so when Harold tried to talk, only the closest ones could hear him. There was no doubt that that kind of small and improvised gestures allowed that Harold reached even more to people. Smiling tried by a gesture to ask please let him to begin his speech. After a long time the decibel level dropped enough to allow him directing his first words as president-elect of the United States.
- Today I learne
d the true meaning of the word "Thanks".
The ecstatic audience interrupted him again. After taking a sip from a glass of water, pointed his finger to the audience.
- You have made this possible.
Harold stepped down, hugged his wife, and with a little push he urged her to join him. Then he went on.
- And, thanks to my family, thanks to you who have supported me until exhaustion, thanks to the American people that have understood and positively valued our message, starting four years to carry out all our illusions.
Harold was forced to briefly interrupt his speech before the onslaught of the flashes of cameras. Then he finally continued.
- Four years of illusion and hope not only for ourselves but for everyone, for this great country. Four years of hard work for which I ask the same affection and support. I know you are able to give me it because you have amply demonstrated.
The last words were drowned out by thunderous applause. Harold went down with parsimony from the platform, his glassy eyes turned toward Carol, took her in his arms and kissed her, knowing that only she would help him successfully to complete that pivotal moment in their lives.
II
Nearly four years later, nobody in the party doubted about the leadership of Harold. His presidency had been sublime, beyond the statistics and cold but necessary numbers. The economy was going from strength to strength, the growth rate had been the highest in the last twenty years, productivity was surprisingly high and the unemployment rate had fallen more than double the expected. His tact and intelligence on foreign policy had helped to strengthen the international leadership and become a universally respected figure for his own personality more than for the power of his nation. The activity of international terrorism had dropped to unusual levels, unknown for many years. The popularity of Carol and Harold had crossed the barriers of the country. They formed an admired couple, a mirror and a reference for those who believed that love, far from void, stimulates and increases the chances of the partners. And they were right. They had their differences, inherent in any human couple, but they were a team, always ended by finding ways to add their contributions. And this, related with two people with abundant resources and great capacity for sacrifice, had results more than positive, which not only translated into a well for the couple, but for all that was in their hands, it was not little.
The only black spot of Harold was still Harry. His vice president, far from being entrained by the wake of Harold, had decided unilaterally throw his life away as a nightmare and with it by far the prestige of the executive. Drinker and womanizer, was impossible to stop him, until the point that the president gave him an ultimatum after the first two-years of mandate. It served for little or nothing. It took only two months to surpass himself. At a gala dinner with one of the most charismatic leaders of the Middle East, he did not limit himself to get drunk but then he interfered with Carol, proposing himself to seduce her with his empty archness. Only quenching and good nature allowed Carol to stop his bravado without guests noticed it. That was the straw that broke the camel. His scandals were the order of the day, but perhaps people had sympathized with the misfortune that their president was carrying, because, lacking a little over a month to finish the primaries, Harold was ahead in the polls in so exorbitant way that no one doubted about his reelection.
Carol had tried to convince Harold to withdraw. Four years had been more than enough, she thought they needed more time for both and for the expansion project of family that had been parked after the previous elections. But her husband insisted that he had a commitment to be faced, that their private life had been overshadowed by their public responsibilities and that he needed her to give back again the best of herself for another four years. In that way, Carol was forced to accept.
Harold just put a condition on the table to his party, which they soon approved. He proposed to his friend, Thomas, as vice president for the new term at the expense of Harry. Thomas never had had the luck he deserved in politics, but no one doubted his ability, let alone Harold. But without the nightmare called Harry, and with the confidence that Thomas deserved, success seemed to be assured.
III
Nine years seeing their faces every day during most of the day had not undermined the friendship between the detectives Marvin and Hanson. Few marriages had survived to such wear and many psychologists of couples should have taken note of the strong foundation that kept their peculiar relationship that went far beyond from professional. Because, beyond the ten year age difference between them, the contrast between their characters, their diametrically opposed views, there was a deep mutual respect and admiration. Both had shared difficult times and overcome delicate situations, thanks to their partnership and mutual trust. And all their little quarrels ended in the same way, ie, sharing a beer in a bar.
That afternoon of July was becoming endless for two men whose natural place was in the streets. They preferred a thousand times more to face the most challenging challenge that wait for days, arms crossed, to entrust them on a mission. Luckily for both such situation was not usual, because they did not lack work usually, but they were about to fall into despair. With heat pressing on them and air conditioning broken, the minutes in his small office seemed centuries and would have been impossible to determine the looks received for that wall clock that seemed frozen in time, even broken. Marvin had chosen to recline his armchair while he read the newspaper with his feet on the table. Hanson, whose more restless and nervous character prevented him remain undaunted, was wandering from one place to another in the office with a glass of water on hand. Marvin looked at him repeatedly until he could not avoid shape his thoughts.
Guy, you're getting me nervous, you don’t stop of moving from one place to another.
Hanson turned around and smiled, as he gave his own view.
- You know I can’t bear the inactivity.
Marvin felt compelled to give an explanation that seemed obvious.
- But FBI is so, it seems incredible that you haven’t yet perceived it. Stressful moments alternate with others not transcendent at all. Like everything in life, it is better to adapt.
- Do not ask me that, you know that is not for me. Do you know what I'm thinking?
- Ah! So you get to meditate in situations like this? You have much merit!
- In the blonde of the other day.
- The one with huge boobs?
- Ah! Was there another one?
- When I left you it seemed everything was fine.
- Damn, and it was! That is precisely the problem, everything went too well!
- So? ...
Hanson looked at his watch again, then the one in the wall, as to make sure none of them had stopped. Then he looked to Marvin and brandishing a smile he replied.
- Well, I meet her this afternoon!
- I was beginning to be worried, thinking that your mind was lost with deep themes!
For once, Hanson became serious. Even knowing that the conversation could get tensed, he used the occasion to try getting close to Marvin, who was not the same since some time ago. He knew too well what the reason was, but didn’t know how he could help.
- For you is easy. You've decided to become a kind of hermit or something.
- Marvin felt trapped. He didn’t want to enter to the rag that Hanson had tended. In fact, he always had been an introvert, that before any problem fled to take refuge in his inner universe, and Hanson's proposal deeply bothered him. Only some rough words of self-defense came to his mind.
- Here we go again!
- Hanson was not one that it was withdrawing the first try, and if he proposed it he could be as direct as for putting his interlocutor into a quagmire.
- If you really still love her, why have you given up?
Marvin took his feet off the table, looked down and started to rise. It was one way like other one o
f trying to escape. Basically, Hanson always ended up surprising him in some way. He had all afternoon at his leisure, without addressing practically any word almost as if he were in another world. But it was clear that he had not gone unnoticed for him that he was reading the same page of the newspaper for more than an hour. Then he answered slightly angry:
- Because it makes no sense. I'm sure it's too late.
This time he was lucky he didn’t need further explanation, because suddenly opened the office door and Jenna Eddison, the coworker with the most character of the whole plant, a gorgeous woman that hid a strong and sour personality, to the point of being known in the department as "the Barbie with character", came in like a shot. Hanson stared at her, Jenna stared back coldly, calmly, and then raise her voice.
- The boss wants to see you in his office before that I close the door again.
Hanson returned to watch the clock. It was five to six. All the damn afternoon died of boredom, with the only consolation of getting arrived on time for an appointment once in his life, and with five minutes to go, the boss and Jenna came the rush. He could not avoid one of his wry jokes.
- Well don’t go. Or rather, tell him we have already gone.
Jenna was not one who cared to enter into a bitter war of words, she thought it was a waste of time. So she only looked at him and spit in a despotic way an "As you wish", as she slammed the door.
