Scott Bennett did at least three of them every week. Add on the even more frequent cocktail parties in the evenings, the multiple getting-to-know-you lunch meetings, and the inevitable weekend special events and he almost never saw his office or his home anymore. Such was the life of a top-tier lobbyist.
“Senator, it would be my pleasure,” Bennett was saying. “Have him call me and I’ll take care of it.”
Often it was the little things that served Bennett’s needs the best, such as obtaining box seats to a Washington Nationals baseball game for a senator’s friend. The senator would receive nothing on paper, but in the invisible ledger called What Have You Done For Me, another entry would appear in Bennett’s column.
“I appreciate that, Scott. I really do,” the senator said. “Harry can’t wait to take his son to a game when they’re out here.”
“I’ll personally see to everything. Don’t give it another thought.” By everything, Bennett meant flying the senator’s friend and son to the district, putting them up in the best hotel, providing the car that would take them to and from the game, and supplying the guide who would see them to their seats and handle the procuring of any food or drinks or souvenirs they wanted. They would do more than enjoy their evening. They would never forget it. And the friend would be sure to let the senator know.
Bennett spoke to the man for a few more moments, and then left before the conversation could turn stale.
The affair was informal. There were places to sit but most people stood, making it easy to see who was still new at this. They would be the ones balancing plates of muffins and fruit and sausages and eggs as they attempted to remain relevant to whatever conversation they were participating in.
Bennett, ever the professional, never touched the food at this type of event so he could move from lawmaker to lawmaker hands free. He was heading toward Representative Loggins when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning, he found Ryan Barkley, his assistant, holding an envelope.
“This just came for you,” Barkley said.
“From who?” Bennett asked as he took the envelope.
“A man in the lobby. I’ve never seen him before, but—”
Bennett was about to rake his assistant over the coals when he turned the envelope over and caught sight of the single word printed in the upper left corner.
VALOR
“Thank you,” he said. Barkley had only been following instructions. Anything marked VALOR should immediately be brought to Bennett. “You can head back to the office. We’re done here.”
Barkley looked confused. “There’s still another—”
“We are done,” Bennett said firmly.
“Yes, sir. I understand. Don’t forget the meeting at noon with General McFadden.”
“Reschedule it.”
Barkley still looked unsure, but this time he only said, “Yes, sir,” and left.
Bennett made his way to a quiet alcove and opened the envelope.
The Hayes girl has surfaced. Current alias: Danielle Chad. Obtain.
Below this was a series of numbers that, once he entered them in his computer, would take him to a secured web page with additional information.
How about that? he thought.
He pulled out his phone.
The Assistant Trade Attaché at the Russian embassy answered the phone on the second ring. “Komarov.”
“Good afternoon, Herr Komarov. This is Karl Schwartz, Schwartz Engineering. I believe you were expecting my call.”
Komarov froze. At one time perhaps, he had been expecting it, but that had been years ago. “Of course, Herr Schwartz,” he said. “I am happy to hear from you.”
“I hope I am not catching you at a bad time.”
“Not at all. It is always a pleasure to speak to someone of your business experience.”
“That’s kind of you to say. I am calling concerning the project we are working on outside Moscow.”
“The Dishinki Hotel?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
The conversation continued in the same boring fashion, the whole time Komarov writing down the key words. After they said good-bye, the attaché rose from his desk, made sure his door was locked, and retrieved the book that served as the code key from the secret compartment at the back of his filing cabinet.
After he deciphered the message, he composed an e-mail, similarly encoded, and sent it to the address he had memorized before being sent to Germany.
He then settled back in his chair and picked up working where he’d left off, hoping his involvement in the matter was now done.
Ricky Orbits — not his real name, but his favorite — leaned back on his sofa, wearing only an open silk robe. He picked up the TV remote and began hopping through the channels.
SportsCenter. Nope.
He actually loved the show, but couldn’t stand watching it on days after his beloved White Sox lost. It was especially bad today since last night it had been to those damn Detroit Tigers.
He clicked again. Pawn Stars. Another show he loved, but he’d seen the episode multiple times so he kept going.
Bones reruns. Okay, he could get into that. That girl was seriously smart but whacked, man. And that Angela chick was hot.
One of the doctors was pulling a skeleton out of a barrel of congealed crude when Ricky’s phone vibrated twice on the glass coffee table. A text.
He waited until a commercial and then reached for the phone, but before he even got his hand on it, a second text came in.
Someone’s anxious, he thought.
He was wrong. The two texts had been sent by two different numbers. The first was from a regular client based in Washington, DC, and read:
Assignment: find and obtain
Last known loc.: Seattle, WA
Usual fee plus bonus if completed within 24 hrs.
Details upon acceptance
As he read the second text, he let out a surprised “huh.”
It was from a client in Moscow he’d done a couple jobs for the previous year. The weird thing was, the Russians wanted to hire him for what appeared to be the exact same job as the DC client’s. But the Russians were offering double fee plus bonus.
Well, this is a first, he thought. If there was a way to accept both, that would be awesome.
He spent a few minutes considering the possibility, but in the end, he knew he’d have to give the package to someone, meaning one of the clients would not be happy. That could turn ugly.
He had nothing currently booked so it wasn’t a question of whether he would take the job or not, just who he would take it from. While the second was offering more cash, number one had been a much more reliable employer.
Wanting to see if his first choice would come around to more agreeable terms, he sent a reply:
Double fee, w/bonus up to 48 hours
and I’m yours.
The answer came back within seconds.
Done.
Ricky smiled. After he sent his regrets to the Russians, he pushed off the couch and looked toward his bed on the other side of the loft.
“Babe, you gotta get out of here. I got things to do.”
The woman, lying naked on top of the sheets, barely moved.
He tried to remember her name but it wasn’t coming to him. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what her face looked like, but knew she was a looker. Even as drunk as he’d been, he wouldn’t have brought her up otherwise.
He walked over to the bed and slapped her ass. “Honey, snap to it. The hunter’s been activated. Time for you to go.”
He laughed as he headed into the bathroom to take a shower. That was a good one. He’d have to remember that.