"Of course! That's what politics is all about, Mr. Valgardo. It's about quid pro quos."
Maybe your idea of politics is. What happened to doing what's best for the people?
As his private jet flew back to New York, Vincent thought about the major, first-class shit storm that would blow in when he announced Valgardo Capital was going to help a billionaire Syrian take over a US oil company. He had Harry's word this wasn't going to last long and that everyone would know the truth when it was over. He desperately hoped the former President was right.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
"Tell me there's a reason for this! Tell me, Michelle! Why in hell would you turn on us?"
At eighty-three, Samuel Pennington was the oldest member of the Senate. He led the pack that had stormed into the Majority Leader's office. There must have been twenty of them. As much as she'd been expecting this, the thing that hurt most was how disappointed they looked. She'd planned for fury, expletives, and screaming voices, but it hurt her deeply to see the people she led now ashamed of their leader.
"You joined forces with that asshole! You made a deal with him and didn't even have the common courtesy to ask us what we thought!"
"Some have said they'll join with me. I have enough votes . . ."
"Yes, Michelle," Pennington said, the tone of resignation in his old, shaky voice almost too painful to hear. "You're a great leader. You've made a choice and you brought some of us along with you. We all know it's the ones who aren't standing for election this year. At least you had the decency to spare those who were."
Another woman, the senior senator from Idaho and a close friend of Michelle's, spoke up, calling Isham by her nickname. When she used the word, it made the Majority Leader cry.
"We're angry, Shells. We're hurt, too. I don't know what you were thinking. How come even I didn't know you were so gung ho about the Exxon merger? You never acted like it. Now you've arranged a block to outvote all of us, who've been your friends and who voted you in as Majority Leader. My constituents don't want this, and they're damn sure going to know I don't want it either. Once the vote on the Exxon debacle is over, we want you out of here. Out of this office, out of your leadership position and, if I had my say, out of the Senate. Either you resign as Majority Leader or we remove you – it's your choice. You're an embarrassment to the office. You're as bad as the President is. And that's just about the worst thing I can think of saying about anyone." She was crying as she and the rest of them left, slamming the door behind them.
Michelle didn't leave her office for the rest of the day. Around four she decided to go home. As she was packing her briefcase, her cellphone rang. It was Harry, asking how the day went. They both knew today would be the day of confrontation.
"It went pretty well," she said with a weak chuckle. "They all came to see me. One of them had a noose, but I guess they decided not to use it."
"I'm so sorry. I wish it could be different."
"I'm sorry too. When Sam Pennington, a man I've revered and been in awe of since I came here, tells me I'm a traitor, selling out my fellow senators, what can I say? He's right. He's absolutely right, Harry." She'd kept things bottled up all day, but now she began to sob bitterly.
"They want me to step down or they'll vote me out. That'll happen in the next few days, right after the Exxon vote, they said. So unfortunately your Operation Clawback will be too late to save my job."
"If there were anything I could do to change all this, I would."
"You can. I have to tell them about you and Marty and the Secretary of State. They can keep a secret. They've done it for years right here in Congress. You can't leave me out here all alone like this on my own. At least you people down there have each other. I don't have anyone. Except for nineteen of my colleagues, each of whom is now considered as big a hypocritical Judas as I am, I'm all alone. And those nineteen are sworn to secrecy. They can't tell the others why they suddenly changed their minds. We're as bad as Cham Parkes, Harry. In the public's eyes, we're the same lying cheats he is. I never thought about this part of it when you asked me to help. I don't know if I can do this anymore."
He soothed her, assuring her things would look up soon. With the passage of a little time, tempers would cool and reason would win out. It wouldn't be clear until the mission was accomplished, but it was worth sacrificing things you considered important.
"Michelle, I know you're devastated at the temporary loss of face with your good friends. But think of this. I put my own father and mother through the funerals of Jennifer and me and their only two grandchildren. Don't you think that actually tore my heart out? I cried for two days. I grieved with real pain shooting through every inch of my being. But it had to happen. I knew it and they knew it too, once they joined us here. Please stick with me."
At last she agreed. She gave Harry her word and promised to call tomorrow. She went home, put on pajamas and sat in her living room with all the lights off. She had divorced long ago and her daughter was grown and living in Pennsylvania. There was no one here but her. There was no one anywhere but her anymore. Those feelings – those awful feelings from this afternoon – crept back over her like dirt covering a coffin.
She felt a powerful anxiety attack coming on and found the Xanax in her medicine cabinet, thanking God her doctor had just renewed her prescription. She had these attacks now and then. She hadn't had one in a long time, but this was a hell of a good day for one, she thought bitterly. She took two tablets, poured herself a glass of wine and turned on the television. The President had wasted no time in announcing that the House was reconsidering the ExxonMobil deal with Hassan Group of Dubai. He revealed he had also spoken with the CEO of Valgardo Group, Exxon's largest shareholder, who was supporting Hassan's position.
"I have the country's best interests in my thoughts every moment of every day," Parkes said with a Cheshire-cat smile. "My friends in Congress who opposed this deal the last time must now rethink their positions. Amin Hassan, the chairman of Hassan Group, has promised major investment in American oilfields, so at last we can reduce our dependency on foreign oil. This merger is critical for the future of our country. Most Americans agree with me – they favor the strong alliance that will be created. I'm confident the House will pass the Exxon bill tomorrow and send it to the Senate."
She cringed as she saw her own picture fill the screen. With a confident smirk, Parkes continued, "Senate Majority Leader Isham told me today that she has the votes necessary to pass this legislation. The Republicans – at least the farsighted ones – will be joining us to make this happen."
The President pointed his finger at the camera. "When this bill reaches my desk, my fellow Americans, I promise you I will sign it, and we will create the world's strongest oil conglomerate, boosting US oil production, increasing jobs and our economy. God bless you all."
She barely listened. The part about a stronger economy and increasing domestic oil production was a damned lie. It was never going to happen. She knew it, Parkes knew it and so did all her friends in the Senate, even the ones who had promised to vote for the bill. It made her nauseous.
Mercifully, she fell asleep at last. She dreamed she was a zebra being stalked by lions. She dodged this way and that, into and out of the trees, until a man stepped out of the jungle directly in front of her. It was Chambliss Parkes and he held a hunting rifle. He pointed the gun at a huge lion running toward her, but then he swung it around and shot her instead. As the last of her life drained away, he stood over her with that awful feline smile on his face.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Michelle Isham had fulfilled her duty. She overcame the vehement fury of forty Republican Senators whom she had respected and enjoyed working with. She held firm, demanding a vote and breathing a sigh of relief when every single one – all nineteen in her coalition – voted as they had been told to vote. She and forty Democrats also voted yes and the bill passed sixty to forty. A Middle Eastern oil conglomerate – Hassan Group of Dubai – was give
n the green light to purchase ExxonMobil stock.
The bill and a quick ruling by the new Parkes-appointed attorney general thwarted previous efforts by the Federal Trade Commission and the Securities and Exchange Commission in advance. Moments after the President signed the legislation, the AG told the agencies to back off. This was now the law and he gave it his full support.
The three new cabinet Secretaries, all Parkes appointees, had vigorously endorsed the legislation, calling it a visionary move that would strengthen America and stabilize oil prices at a much higher level.
As Michelle Isham watched all this drama, she was both physically ill and mentally exhausted. No one understood more clearly than she that what she had done was absolutely necessary. Harry Harrison was the leader she respected most in Washington, and she had accomplished what he told her was required. What she did would help to bring down a criminal enterprise that reached to the Oval Office. History would show that she was a hero who had done something extraordinary with great personal sacrifice.
That was all good, but she couldn't get past the short term. Although she'd secretly done a noble thing, to the public it looked as though she was a turncoat. She was a Republican, a vehement enemy of Cham Parkes, suddenly supporting his bill just like his appointees who did what they were told. For some time to come she had lost her reputation, her friends and her own sense of self-esteem. This afternoon her colleagues would vote her out as Majority Leader. Who could blame them? She would have voted with them if someone else had done what she did.
She went home around noon, shut the drapes in her bedroom, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up around her face. She was one of the strongest women in America, she had been Time magazine's Person of the Year in 2015, and now she was shaking like a leaf.
I'm not strong, she said to herself. I make everyone think I'm strong, but I'm not. I'm weak and I've done something that makes me a fool in front of everyone. How can I live with myself?
The Xanax bottle was still on her nightstand. She shook out two tablets and held them in her hand.
It felt to Michelle as though she was in a parallel world, watching herself and knowing what she was going to do next, even though she didn't know for sure that she was going to do it.
She put the two pills back into the bottle and went to the bathroom for a glass of water. She put it next to her bed, lifted the Xanax bottle and poured forty-six pills into her mouth. She almost gagged, but she was successful. With the help of the water she managed to get them all down.
Soon she fell asleep. This time there were no dreams.
This time there was nothing at all.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Harry had one last request for Brian. Having no idea what was coming, he sat in Harry's office with the team who planned to take down Amin Hassan.
Brian had offered to help more than once, but so far there'd been nothing he could add to the mission. The group had decided there was one thing that would seal Hassan's fate once and for all. They wanted him locked away for the rest of his life. They had the goods on his illegal deals with a sitting President, but they wanted the rest. They wanted him gone, just like they believed Cham Parkes would be gone.
Harry approached the subject cautiously. Once again he was going to ask his best friend to step into a potentially dangerous situation for the good of his country. He and Jennifer loved this couple, and Harry had agonized over what was next.
"I'm just going to lay it on the table," he began somberly. "I'd like to sugarcoat this somehow, but I don't see how to call this anything but what it is. We need your help. You're sitting here with your arm in a cast from the last help you gave us, and that doesn't make this discussion any easier. What I can promise you as your friend, not your President but your friend, is that trained operatives will have your back every moment of every day, every step you take."
"Damn, Harry. I'm in! You've made this sound so enticing I can't wait to sign up!"
The men around the table grinned, although this was no laughing matter for any of them, especially Brian.
Harry had decided not to mince words. This was a tough request, and he wouldn't blame Brian one bit for telling all of them to go to hell. He explained the plan.
"We want to send you back to Dallas, put you out in public and use you as bait. That's about as clear as I can make it." He looked at Marty and the others. "Do any of you want to say anything before I continue?"
He explained the plan. "Zarif Safwan is Hassan's security guy in London and the man who's done Amin's dirty work for years. He knows where the bodies are literally buried, and we want to take him into custody. He's a killer who was trained by Syrian terrorists, fiercely loyal to his boss and willing to die if a job required it. We can't simply arrest him because he hasn't committed a crime. If I were President, the CIA could pick him up, interrogate him and see what he knows. Parkes will never stand for that because he'll do whatever his buddy Amin Hassan tells him to do.
"Taking Zarif into custody isn't the answer anyway. First, he's gone deep underground – we don't know where he is, but we don't believe he's left the States. We think Hassan is keeping him in Dallas until the boss figures out where you are. Second, he knows the USA can't hold someone indefinitely without charging him or her. He'd simply stay quiet until we had to let him go. Once he was free, I guarantee we'd never get another chance."
Brian saw where this was going. "You want me to go back, appear in public and draw him out."
Everyone nodded.
"What about Nicole? I absolutely will not let her be involved in this."
"Neither will I," Harry said sincerely. "She'll stay here with us until your mission is over."
"What kind of protection will I have?"
"You'll have a joint team of FBI and CIA professionals around the clock, eight men to a shift. They'll be with you every moment, but they'll be out of sight. Every evening you'll give us your next day's itinerary minute by minute and you'll have to stick to it. Wherever you are, undercover agents will be with you. A lot of them."
"Anything else?"
Harry looked at the others. No one spoke, so he said, "That's about it until we get to the details."
Brian stood and pushed his chair back. "I have to talk to Nicole."
When he was gone, Marty said, "I think that went as well as it could have."
Shaking his head, Harry replied, "I just hate this. God, you don't know how I'd feel if this went wrong. I just hope we're doing the right thing, coaxing a civilian – my best friend – into doing the government's dirty work."
"It's the only choice we have."
Once Brian was on board, the first item on the list was to let his killer know he was back in town. Brian made a call to the executive producer at Fox and Friends in New York and said he had a major announcement about his upcoming Vesuvius auction.
He was instantly granted a three-minute slot on Thursday's show. Fans always looked forward to Brian's commentary, and the hype began immediately. The world knew that in two days he'd be on with Steve, Ainsley and Brian. He wouldn't be in New York; he'd be at the Fox affiliate in Dallas, airing via a live feed. Security would be increased both in the Big Apple and the Big D since no one knew where Zarif Safwan was.
The next afternoon a private jet landed at Love Field and Brian Sadler was home. A private sedan dropped him at the Ritz-Carlton Residences.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sadler."
Brian nodded at the lobby doorman and realized he'd never seen him before.
He wondered if this was his first encounter with an undercover officer.
"Are you new? Where's Rafael?"
"Off on vacation, sir. I'll be working days until he returns."
"How'd you know my name?"
"Everyone knows you, Mr. Sadler," the man said with a wink.
_____
"He's back."
"I saw that," Amin replied, still seething over his daughter’s decision to display her relics. Hadn't she learned anything
from him about keeping a low profile? That damned Fox show this morning had plastered Amina's name and picture on televisions around the world. Brian Sadler boasted about displaying her priceless artifacts at his upcoming auction. What made Amin madder was how Brian had teased the audience, using Amina as a pawn to get publicity for himself and his gallery.
"Get rid of him and do it quickly. Don't fail me this time. Don't let him slip through your hands again, Zarif. Do you understand?"
"Clearly."
On Brian's drive from the Fox studios to his gallery, he tried to spot CIA agents following, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He knew they were there – at least he hoped they were.
The only picture of Zarif Safwan the agency had was a passport photo taken five years ago. Brian looked at Safwan's swarthy complexion and jet-black hair. If the guy was as good as Harry's team said, Brian would never see him coming. The double-edged sword in all this was that Brian really didn't have to do anything. He just had to go about his daily routine, precisely following the itinerary he and the agency had agreed upon for each day. If anything happened, the men assigned to protect him would take over.
At least that was the plan.
Bijan Rarities' Dallas gallery occupied the ground floor of an office building in Uptown. He pulled into a parking garage next door, saw two attendants at the entrance who'd never been there before, and drove to his reserved space. Two women, deep in animated conversation, fell in behind him as he walked on the sidewalk to the gallery. They kept going when he turned and went inside.
Probably FBI, he thought. Now he was beginning to think that everybody was an agent. That would be nice if it were true.
Brian spent the morning in conference with Cory Spencer, his associate who ran the London gallery and who had filled in while Brian was away. Cory would return to England tomorrow on the afternoon flight.
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