“Hmph. They are sheep, my friend. They believe what you tell them to believe. The vaccine will continue to be manufactured in China.”
“I won’t”
Attaboy, sir.
“Then your daughter will become DC’s most interesting topic. She is lovely.”
“This is blackmail.”
“I prefer the term… negotiation. I have something you want and you have something I want. It’s fair trade.”
“I won’t water down the bill.”
“You have until midnight to decide. Best to warn your family.”
The door suddenly opens and I jump back as Joe storms down the hall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man angrier which is saying something.
Behind us, when Mr. Lee chuckles, something inside me snaps. I circle back and whisper in the blackmailer’s ear. “You fuck with him, you fuck with me. Understand?”
Once back in the car, Joe leans forward over the seat. “I told you to stay out of it.”
“Sir, if you’re in trouble….” I twist at the waist to face the man’s anger head on.
“Fuck. You just had to listen in, didn’t you?”
My voice stays calm even though I’m about to shake some sense into him. “You hired me to protect you,sir.”
He points a finger in my face, spittle spewing as he shouts, “Know what? Your ass is fired. Take me home then get the fuck out of DC. Tell Patten to send me someone who knows how to mind his own business.”
I try to reason with him, to keep my conscience clear. “Sir, you can’t possibly do what they’re asking.”
“Shut up and drive.”
Once we’re back at his home, I say goodnight and call my home office from the car. Slate picks up and despite the non-disclosure, I explain what I overheard. “Send Lucky to guard the asshole. I’m done.”
My stomach churns with a vile taste in my mouth. Outside, some well-to-do teens walk by, laughing and joking away, blissfully unaware of the dark side of this town.
Slate is pissed too, as well he should be. We’ve protected our country on foreign soil to keep our country free and assholes like Joe McAlister fold because their spoiled rotten daughters get into compromising situations.
“Did you get a picture of this Mr. Lee?” Slate’s question brings me back to the job at hand.
“I’m emailing it to you now.”
“I’ll run it through the database and call Patten, let him know what went down.”
“Hey, listen, I’m sorry I blew it but when that fuckhead chuckled, I had to say something.”
“Don’t be. It’s treason. If you went along, you’d be just as guilty. You did the right thing.”
Our connection blinks out for a second then Slate is back. “It’s Grayson calling. I’ll fill him in. Don’t worry. Go home. Blake will be thrilled. We got this covered.”
“Remind him I signed a nondisclosure and have him call Andy. I got a pretty good feeling if we go to the Feds, we’ll be going to court.”
Fuck. Not only that, no one will dare hire Patten bodyguards again.
Going back to New York feels pretty much like failure but there’s nothing else to be done. I play out the evening repeatedly.Shit. I should’ve just let the mother-fucker chuckle.
Apparently, he hit some button I didn’t even know I had. How the hell did he get under my skin? I’m still pondering as I pack my shit and am no further along as I fly back to New York. The plane has plenty of room what with it still being Thanksgiving and all, so I stretch out across a couple seats and close my eyes.
