Whether the senatorrealizeshe’s part of something or not remains to be seen. The guy’s not very bright, either, but he comes from money and metaphorically sucked cock to earn himself major big-money endorsements in his state.
I don’t like how many connections there are in this web, either. Connections which all converge upon one Congresswoman Grace Martin.
Stella Woodley’s best friend.
By the time Elliot’s finished and is ready to return to the White House, I’ve put together an interesting outline of Stella’s and Grace’s latest sketchy activities.
It’s something I’ll need to look at more closely than just keeping tabs on them, and maybe even start throwing some monkey wrenches into the works.
Or carefully timed metaphorical hand-grenades.
I can definitely use the damned distraction.
Kev has introduced me to countless helpful contacts over the years. Once I have Elliot fed and buttoned up in his office for the afternoon, and I’ve checked that Shae doesn’t need me, I head over to Kev’s office.
An hour later, I’m stepping out of a cab in Arlington and meeting with someone who might be able to provide me with a few answers.
Kev’s a big-picture kind of guy. He doesn’t have a few plates spinning in the air—he’s got dozens. Hundreds, maybe. This kind of thing is beneath him but it’s definitely in my wheelhouse.
Especially since I’ll report back to him what I learn.
Since I work for the president of the United States, one of my vital roles is helping shield her from certain things the way I shield my pet from certain things.
Sometimes, those are the same things.
Short of national emergencies, presidents can’t duck certain events without raising eyebrows. Like the National Prayer Breakfast.
One thing Kev and I have diligently done throughout Shae’s two terms is never leave her alone with anyone who’s not staff or a cabinet member, unless it’s a NatSec issue. No private meetings with any kind of world leaders or ambassadors—especially since I can translate for some of them—and definitely no private meetings with religious leaders.
Or private meetings brokeredbyreligious leaders.
There’s a lot of shady sausage-making that happens in DC, and there’s a particularly shady flavor of it enacted by a certain religious network—not meaning the media kind of network, although there are a few of those also wrapped up in this particular web.
A web that’s long tried sneaky ways to make inroads into Shae’s administration.
And have tried to make inroads with Elliot. Especially now that the time for him to declare his own candidacy is rapidly approaching.
Daniel Jason Walker-Davis is married to Senator Liam Davis, (D) Massachusetts, and is the chief of staff for Congressman Marlowe Effings, (D) Massachusetts. We meet in the same hotel where Shae and Elliot met years ago to discuss Elliot joining the ticket.
This time, we’re in a suite that Congressman Effings’ re-election campaign is paying for. On the same floor as the suite Elliot and Shae met in, but a different suite, thankfully.
We’re also alone. They’re having some meetings tonight, so it wasn’t rented just for our meeting. That was a happy coincidence.
Daniel greets me with a smile and a firm handshake. “Leo, hi. I was a little surprised to receive your call.” He ushers me inside, quickly glancing up and down the hall before locking us inside.
“Yeah. This meeting needs to stay between us and completely off the books.”
He studies me for a moment. “You’re former Secret Service, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I can keep a secret.”
“This entire meeting stays between us, off the record. Never happened.”
I nod again.
“I can’t promise you not to tell my husband, though. Especially if this involves government business.”
“It doesn’t involve government business. It’s more a personal errand.” I know from things I’ve observed that Daniel and Liam likely have a similar arrangement as Elliot and I do. Only in this case, Liam’s probably the Master.
