“Sure, Sam.” She went to another phone.
Kate was already in the room when Governor Collins arrived.
“Kate, Dick,” Meriwether said, “Stone has some information that you should hear.”
Stone told them what he had just told Meriwether.
Kate looked shocked. “I really thought that Otero wanted to run on the ticket with me,” she said.
“Did he ever tell you that?” Collins asked.
“No, but he asked me outright if I was going to choose a running mate before the balloting was done. I told him no, that I wouldn’t trade the slot for delegates.”
“Did he tell you that if you asked him, he wouldn’t accept the slot on the ticket?”
“No, he didn’t. It appears that Pete Otero is more ambitious than I thought.”
“Do you think that Willingham would jump to Otero for the second spot on the ticket?” Collins asked.
“Stone,” Meriwether said, “ask them the question you asked me.”
Stone took a deep breath: “If Willingham were placed in a situation where he had to choose between the vice presidency or nothing, which way do you think he would jump?”
“Oh, shit,” Collins replied.
Meriwether laughed. “Funny, that’s exactly what I said.”
“All right, then,” Dick Collins said. “There are two things you can do, Kate.”
“What are they?”
“The first is to call Willingham now and offer him the second spot on the ticket in return for his ballots.”
“What’s the other thing?”
“Well, if you don’t want to offer it to him, you have to get enough of the undecided California delegates to go with you on the first ballot.”
“How many do we have now?” Kate asked.
“Fifteen.”
“And how many more undecided California delegates are there?”
“Twenty-six.”
“So we need twenty-four of them, is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“All right,” Kate said, “I want to tell you all something: I decided who I want for a running mate a few days ago. It’s not Pete Otero. And it’s certainly not Mark Willingham.”
“Then who is it?” Meriwether asked, looking baffled.
“It’s the governor of the great state of California,” she replied.
Meriwether broke into a big smile. “I can live with that,” he said.
“Dick,” Kate said, “can you live with that?”
Collins looked at each of them separately, Kate last. “It would be my great pleasure and a great honor,” he replied.
“Then you have my permission to tell any or all of your recalcitrant delegates that if they do the right thing, the next vice president of the United States will be their governor. But tell them in the strictest confidence. We don’t want Otero or Willingham getting wind of this before the voting starts.”
“Right,” Sam Meriwether said. “They’ll wait and see how the voting goes before they make their move. Willingham will want to know how many delegates he has to pass on to Otero.”
28
Harry Gregg sat outdoors at a sidewalk café on Santa Monica Beach, drinking a cup of espresso. Harry worked as a gunsmith at the Centurion Studios armory, which housed all the weapons used in Centurion productions and also rented to independents. He looked around for the person he was meeting but didn’t see anyone likely. He checked his watch: five minutes before noon.
Then somebody slid into the seat opposite him. A woman. It had been a man on the phone. What was this?
“Hello, Mr. Gregg,” the woman said. She was dressed in a large floppy straw hat and dark glasses, and the lower part of her face was covered by a veil as if she were afraid of getting too much sun. He couldn’t even tell how old she was.
“Look over my shoulder or out to sea,” she said, “not directly at me. You shouldn’t want to know who I am or what I look like.”
“Okay by me,” Harry said, shifting in his seat to turn toward the Pacific Ocean. “I believe you’re supposed to have some work for me.”
“Wet work,” the woman replied. “Do you know what that is?”
Harry nodded. “I’ve been there. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“His name is Ed Eagle,” she said. “Ring any bells?”
Harry had heard the name. “Lawyer?”
“Right.”
“In the papers a few weeks ago, won a big murder case?”
“Right.”
“Sounds like the kind of guy I’d want to hire if this went wrong.”
“If you do your work well, he won’t be a candidate. And you won’t need a lawyer anyway.”
“He’s real tall, right?”
“Six feet seven. Wears good suits with cowboy boots and a Stetson.”
“Right, I’ve seen pictures. Where do I find him?”
“He’s staying at The Arrington.”
Harry shook his head. “Not good — too much security. I mean, the president is staying there, you know?”
“I understand you know something about explosives.”
“I know everything about explosives,” Harry said.
“You were a navy SEAL, weren’t you?”
“No, army, Special Forces. Pretty much the same thing. My specialty was booby traps.”
“Oh, good,” she said. “He flies an airplane called a Citation Mustang.”
“I know the one — small jet.”
“What would it take to blow it out of the sky?”
“You want it in tiny pieces?”
“No, it would be better if you could make it unflyable so that it would crash not long after takeoff.”
“I can do that,” he said. “Where is the airplane?”
“It’s parked at Atlantic Aviation, on the ramp. Eagle always stops there.”
“I know the place. The ramp is accessible, if you know what you’re doing. How about this: they use runway 21 for takeoff and landing. Where would he be flying to?”
“Santa Fe.”
“East, good. On takeoff on 21, they fly straight out over the beach and the water, then after a minute or two they turn right. How about if the airplane is disabled right at that point? It would crash into the water, breaking into a thousand pieces.”
“So they could never be sure of recovering all the bits, could they?” she asked.
“Nope, that’s the beauty of it.”
“Do you have access to the explosives?”
“I do. And I wouldn’t need more than half a pound of plastic to do the job.”
“How would you set it off?”
“There are two good ways. The best is with an altimeter rigged to a detonator. How soon do I need to do this?”
“He’s here for the convention and he flies back to Santa Fe tomorrow. And he always takes off around nine A.M. He’s a creature of habit.”
“I can’t get everything I need for the altimeter detonator by tomorrow, but I can use a cell phone.”
“How do you mean?”
“I plug a cell phone into a detonator and the detonator into the plastic. Then I sit on the beach with a phone and wait for the airplane to take off. All I have to do is make a call and, poof! your problem, whatever it is, is solved.”
“Ideal,” she said.
“This one is going to cost you five-zero grand.”
“That’s very steep,” she said.
“I’m sure you can find somebody cheaper,” Harry said and made to get up.
“Sit down.”
He sat.
She pushed a thick envelope into his hand. “There’s twenty-five thousand in there,” she said, “and you’ll get the other twenty-five right here, tomorrow at noon, if you’ve been successful.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then you will still be here at noon and bring me twenty back. The five is for your trouble.”
Harry took the envelope and put it into his coat pocket. “I’ll count it later,” he said. “What’s the tail number of the airplane?”