Seduced By The Candidate (The Candidate, #1) (17 page)

Very, very slowly he stretched himself, taking five full
minutes to complete the exercise and ensuring that each movement was minute and
completely indistinguishable by all but the most attentive of onlookers. While
he needed to remain still and focused, it wouldn’t do to cramp up and be unable
to move at short notice if the situation demanded it. Pins and needles stabbed
at his protesting limbs, but other than the involuntary fluttering of an
eyelid, Jake showed nothing of the inner turmoil that prickled him mercilessly.
Gradually the pain abated and he let out his breath in a silent sigh of relief.

Preparation was the key to everything and the years in the
military had drilled that into him as thoroughly as the hard lessons that he
had learned at boot camp. Irrespective of whether he was a civilian, or one of
America’s finest, the lessons learned remained as true now as the day that they
had been taught to him and as soon as he had received Goulding’s text message,
he had begun his preparations in earnest.

First, he had gathered the necessary plans and blue-prints for
the Quest Realtors head office complex and begun to study them in intimate
detail. Every key design anomaly, service penetration, structural opening and
material weakness was considered and evaluated as he planned his entry and
assault. It might not be an Afghani outpost or an Iraqi stronghold, but the information
contained within the building made the success of the mission every bit as
crucial to his commanding chief and as such, it was crucial to Jake. He was one
of the finest weapons his country had every produced, but now he served a
different master and his loyalties had been re-focused accordingly. He would
not fail Goulding.

Having decided on an entry point and the means in which he
would disable the security system, secure the objective and then cover up all
signs of his presence, he had turned his focus on the human element.
Surveillance was dull and tedious, but essential. Without it, he would never
truly know the routines and movements of the key individuals involved in this
little subterfuge. He needed to be certain that all aspects of Larry Ackermann,
Arthur Deane and Frazer Martin’s professional movements were well known to him
and that they wouldn’t surprise him when he made his move. Normally, he would
have watched them over a period of a week or so, but he had been afforded
eighteen hours at best and so it was full on, non-stop, shit or bust.

Jake also needed to make sure that he knew the route and
schedule of the buildings security guards. The cameras and alarms were static
and relatively easy to overcome and bypass, but people were notoriously
unpredictable. As for the directors, he would have dearly loved more time to be
sure, but it was what it was and he would make the best of the hand that he had
been dealt and manage the situation accordingly.

Jake looked at his watch and silently counted down the seconds.

“Five…Four…Three…Two…One…”

He looked up, but there was nothing to see, just the same
emotionless brick, steel and glass of the Quest Realtors building, sat dark and
brooding in the carefully manicured landscape. Had he miscalculated? Was he
wrong in his assessment? Was this simply too little time to properly prepare
for a mission of this magnitude and importance? Suddenly a uniformed guard
appeared around the corner of the building and with a general air of apathy
that suggested he had walked the same tedious route many, many times before. He
sauntered along the perimeter and disappeared around the far side of the
building and out of sight.

Jake grinned to himself and felt his confidence rise another
notch.

“You’ve gotta love rent-a-cop! Minimum wage and yet they still
show a pride in the badge that would thoroughly embarrass the boys in blue.” He
thought to himself.

The big man noted the time of the appearance, the time it took
to walk the line of the building and the nickname that he had given to this
particular security officer in a little notebook and settled himself again. If
he was right, there would be another pass-by in a little over forty minutes and
he would add it to the notes he had already taken. Already there was a definite
pattern and a predictability that made his impending mission all the more
straightforward.

“Piece of piss,” he thought and grinned again.
            

* * *

This was a very different type of meet and greet and far from
resenting the continuous stream of well-wishers and hand-shakers, Goulding
found that he was deeply moved by the men and women that were introduced to
him. Spotlessly turned out individuals of all ages snapped to attention and
saluted him with crisp military precision and a pride in the uniform that had
remained un-dulled, despite the decades of derision and apathy.

These were the unfortunate few that would never be etched into
the stone of living monuments and fondly remembered by a visiting public. These
were the unfortunate few that would never receive the accolades and recognition
that their actions deserved and these were the unfortunate few that would never
be recorded in the history books for the part that they had played in upholding
America’s sovereignty and freedom.

As he shook hands with a tired looking old man in a wheelchair,
Goulding swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat and he felt
tears prick the backs of his eyes. Both of the man’s legs were missing and his
dress uniform had been neatly pinned around the stumps with a precision that
marked the man’s pride and determination. He was twisted and bent, but he
refused to present himself as anything other than pristine and professional.

“Sir, it’s a real honor to meet you. You’re an inspiration to all
of us and it means so much to know that you have taken time out of your busy
schedule to meet us all.”

“What’s your name soldier?” asked Goulding in a choked whisper.

“Fielding Sir.
Captain George
Fielding.”

“Well Captain Fielding, I assure you that the honor is all
mine
. Without men like you this country would never have
been able to flourish as it has. People tend to forget that the freedom that
they enjoy was only made possible by the blood and sacrifice of a small band of
men and women that never flinched from the demands that were made of them. You
will never be forgotten soldier I promise you that. When I’m President, I will
not rest until the entire nation sees you for the hero you really are.”

Both men swallowed hard and stared at each other for a few
seconds.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate that. I’d do it all again in a
heartbeat and it means a lot to know that whatever small part I played…it made
a difference.”

Goulding saluted and turned away, no longer
able to meet the man’s gaze.
He turned to Charlotte who was stood
quietly at his side and saw that tears had left glistening trails down both of
her cheeks.

“Miss Turner, can you inform the press and gathered dignitaries
that I want to say a few words? I know that it’s getting late, but this is important.”

“Yes Senator, right away,” she said, hastily wiping her face
and trying to regain her composure.

As he mounted the hurriedly erected podium and turned to face
his audience, Goulding realized that this was what really mattered. He had been
wheeled out to face so many nameless officials, men of high-standing and the
‘leaders of tomorrow’ in the pursuit of votes that he had completely lost focus
on the real American man and woman. These were his people and he would never
lose sight of that again. They were counting on him, eager to be acknowledged,
looked after and valued. It wasn’t much to ask and yet in return they were
willing to give and give and give.

“Ladies and gentlemen, soldiers and
civilians.
I won’t keep you too long. I know you have far better things
to do with your time than listen to me rattle on, but I couldn’t leave here
today and not say a few words.”
                 

Camera’s flashed and whirred and everyone gazed at him with
rapt attention and eager expectation.

“I learned a valuable lesson today. I learned that America
wasn’t built on big business, senior management and high-brow officials. It was
built with the blood and sweat of the nameless masses that worked hard, asked
little and died willingly just for the love of their country. This was true
then and it remains true now. Although I can never hope to know you all as
individuals, I can assure you that I can give a name to the nameless. Every
single one of you is a hero and when I am President, the world will acknowledge
you all for the heroes that made this country great and continue to ensure that
it remains the envy of the civilized world.

Everything we enjoy as freedom loving citizens came at a
cost—the ultimate cost. This needs to be acknowledged. Rather than turning away
from the ugly, distasteful reality of war, I will ensure that we embrace it
fully. Children and adults alike will acknowledge not only the fallen few, but
also the living, breathing masses. America will cherish its heroes. Under my
leadership, it will soon realize that heroes don’t merely exist in comic books
and Hollywood films, but that they walk amongst us each and every day. This
country’s
leaders
stand on the backs of great men and
women and instead of merely accepting the accolades that are afforded to them,
it is high time that they acknowledge the foundation below their feet and the
real reason that this country is so great.

You are my people and I will never again forget that. I might
be your President, but I see that as a job the same as any other and the people
that I will always answer to is you. I will not fail you, America. Each and
every one of you has the right to be acknowledged, cherished and valued and I
promise you that as long as I’m in charge no one will ever forget that.”

The silence was complete and absolute. Goulding wondered if he
had said something that had offended his audience. No one moved, no one said a
word and then a single hand clap rang out. It started as a quiet ripple, but in
a matter of seconds every man and woman present was applauding loudly. Their
faces were tear streaked and wet with their emotion, but they looked alive and
hopeful. Slowly those that could began to rise and as his own tears began to
fall, Goulding felt the power that emanated from the group assembled before
him. With great power comes great responsibility and for the first time in his
life Goulding understood the responsibility and embraced it fully.
       

* * *

Trying hard not to look smug, John Lyndsey eased the leather
office chair into a reclining position and breathed a sigh of relief.

“
Phase
one complete,” he said to
himself, knowing that from the sanctity of Goulding’s office, no one could
overhear him.

With his cell phone proving inconsistent and his own desk phone
subject to the scrutiny of the wider office, he had retreated into Goulding’s
office in order to make the two phone calls.

Although Goulding’s office was akin to
hallowed turf in the eyes of the campaign team and somewhere that few feared to
tread lest they be lost for all eternity.
Lyndsey had always had
something of a free pass in terms of where he went and what he did. This level
of anonymity could only be justified if the individual enjoying it could
demonstrate his capability and deliver everything that was asked of him on time
and as promised. Lyndsey’s credentials were there for all to see and as a
result, hardly anyone even looked up when he went into Goulding’s office and
closed the door behind him. Only the ping of emails landing in the inbox’
indicated that the rumor mill had cranked into gear and Lyndsey’s actions had
been noted.

His first call had been to Cristal and after a few minutes,
unpicking the details that she had wrongly gleaned from the failed cell phone
conversation, they had agreed on the necessary sequence of events, timeframe
and locations. They had also agreed the price and, although it burned his ass
that he would be footing the bill, but receiving none of the benefits, he knew
that he could claim it back from Goulding as soon as he returned from Oklahoma.

“I bet the bastard doesn’t note that down as official
expenses,” he thought. “Might be taking ‘Entertaining Clients’ a little too
far!”

His second call had been to Brian Kennedy and he thought that
the reporter was going to start ‘whoop-whooping’ when he relayed the message
that Goulding had prepared for him.

Senator Goulding has been
thinking about you’re recent conversations and would like to take you up on
your offer Brian. He would like to meet you tonight to give you an exclusive
interview and the sole rights to the story that you have unwittingly touched
on. Senator Goulding admires your professionalism, candor and commitment and is
sure that you will reflect the highly delicate nature of what he has to tell
you in the best possible way.

Even though he had memorized the statement and delivered it
with a professional air that would have made Goulding himself proud, Lyndsey
was still uneasy. They were playing a dangerous game and there were still so
many hurdles to overcome before the race was won.
   

    
* * *

         
Thirty-nine
minutes and fifty six seconds…not bad, not bad at all! Jake added the details
to the notepad and stretched again. The light was fading and he was confident
that he knew as much about the routine of the key individuals as he possibly
could in the timescales that had been afforded to him. He was now sure that he
could make a fairly competent attempt at the prize he had been asked to secure
and be in and out without his presence ever being detected.