“Actually, it could use a good stroking.”
“Dammit, Maverick, get serious.” The senator leaned forward and Maverick whiffed the booze on his breath. “The State Department couldn’t get the job done through diplomatic channels and a military op was ruled out due to the political climate. So, the families of these poor prisoners pooled their pennies and off you went. Only, you and I know it wasn’t that simple. Someone had to point you in the right goddamn direction. How are we going to sweep this shit under the rug when there’s no more room under the rug for any more shit?”
“They aren’t going to find anything because this mission was completed like every other ThunderStrike rescue. Pointing us in the right direction isn’t a crime.”
“Who the hell loaned you that second Black Hawk? We pulled a few strings to make that happen.”
“So, you’re the Wizard of Oz.” Maverick tossed back a mouthful of beer. “Good to know. I’m scared to death of the Wicked Witch, so thank the good Lord you’re not her.”
“Cut the crap. It’s just you and me. No cameras. No pussies. We’ve got a serious problem that’s got to be dealt with.”
“Senator, I think—”
Rudy delivered Maverick’s burger, along with a giant side of fries. “Thanks, Rudy. Looks great.”
“Enjoy, my friend,” Rudy said. “Senator, can I get you anything?”
Drilling Maverick with a death stare, the senator shook his head. “Not a goddamn thing.”
“If that’s all you wanted to tell me, I’m rolling out of here.” Eager to leave, Maverick shoved out of his chair.
“We’re not finished. Sit your ass down, boy.”
Taking orders worked when Maverick went through Officer Candidate School. It also worked when he became a Navy SEAL. But he left the military to call his own shots and bark his own damn commands. Gritting his teeth, he eased back down.
“I read the intelligence briefing. You were told to abort the mission because the terrorists had intel when you were going to strike. Instead, you went rogue. You risked the mission and the lives of everyone affiliated with it.”
“The only thing that went wrong is one of my men took a bullet.”
“What about the bullets you took?”
“My welfare doesn’t count.”
“That’s very noble, Maverick, but it doesn’t erase the facts. The Senate Select Committee wants answers. Being that I’m the head of that committee, I was forced to open an investigation.”
“Then you know we did nothing wrong.”
“This is bureaucratic bullshit. But…” he shrugged a heavy-set shoulder, “I might be able to delay the hearing for the indefinite future.”
Here we go. Maverick stayed silent.
The senator leaded forward. “I’m announcing my run for Governor of Virginia. Not only could I use your public support and the support of your influential and very wealthy friends—like Colton Mitus and Sinclair Develin—I could use your assistance with my opponent.”
“What does that mean?” Maverick popped a fry into his mouth.
“Keep in mind, I’m not suggesting you do this. I’m simply answering your question.”
Maverick hated playing games. His stomach grumbled and he shoved the bacon burger into his mouth. At least the greasy food tasted good.
“You have those surveillance devices,” George said. “Would those work for keeping an eye and ear out for what’s happening on the other side of the fence? Hypothetically speaking.”
Refusing to answer, Maverick tossed back another mouthful of beer, the frosty brew doing nothing to cool his anger. What a cluster fuck. Now he knew why Sinclair had gone out of his way to get him his cell phone. I’m supposed to be recording this conversation. Wake up, dummy. You’re back in D.C.
“And in exchange, your little problem goes away,” the senator continued.
“What you’re asking me to do is illegal. Ever heard of Watergate?”
Internado threw back his head and forced out a laugh. “Pshaw, Maverick. I’m not asking anything of the sort.” He glanced around, though they were alone. “You have a problem, son. I’m merely throwing out a lifeline. Take it and you’re saved. Don’t and you drown.”
