Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Applications

Chapter 1 – The Applications

Chapter 2 - Official Interest

The response surprised him.

He really hadn’t expected all that much when he placed the advertisement.  Perhaps a dozen, or maybe a couple of dozen, people would respond, slowly, and over the 10 day life of the classified posting, but that was all he was expecting.  He had been wrong, very wrong.

The first he knew how wrong he had been was when he had woken up at his usual time, and gone downstairs to make a cup of coffee.  The mobile phone, with the Signal app, which had been on the kitchen counter, had vibrated itself off the counter and was lying, somewhat unhappily he thought, on the carpeted floor, pinging constantly with new messages coming in.  When he picked it up, he almost dropped it again in surprise with close to 200 messages waiting to be answered.

By the time he had made coffee, and sat down to drink it, the number had grown to 250, and still they kept coming in.  He shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the display. “It’s too many,” he thought to himself.  “How can there be that many people of retirement age in such desperate straits?”

Grabbing a notebook, he started to tally the responses to see how many men and women had responded.  It was mostly men, as he had expected, but the percentage of women was considerably higher than he had guessed it would be. Once he had done that, he went through all of them again; blocking any that were over 70, and then deleting those numbers.

New responses would arrive constantly for the next 9 days.  In total just over 1000 people responded to the ad; of those he eliminated 373 immediately as they were over the maximum age of 70 that he had set in his mind.  That left around 630, a number that staggered him every time he looked at his notebook.  He needed to whittle the number down to about half of that, and even that was too many since he was only looking for 10 people; 10 very special people.

After two days of thinking, he came up with a plan, and sent out a reply to each person asking for their occupation, and a recent photograph.  The occupation would give him a good idea of their likely intelligence level, and the photograph; well that was as good a way as any to eliminate a lot of people; admittedly, it was very unscientific because you can’t always judge a book by its cover, but he had to do something.

The answers, and photographs, came in slowly which he was grateful for as it gave him time to enter those people into a FileMaker database that he had created for the project.  It also allowed him to eliminate another 229 people due to their occupation, and 54 that he simply didn’t like the look of.

After all the weeding out was finished, he had just under 300 people left; 32 of them were women.

Now for stage 2.

Chapter 2 – Official Interest

It didn’t take long for the Government to show an interest in what he was doing.  In fact, it only took three days before there was a ring at the doorbell.  Taking a quick glance at the security monitors, he saw that there were two men standing there, well-dressed in suits, and it was immediately obvious to him that they were from the world of officialdom.

Crossing the lobby, he opened the door.  “Yes?”he asked.  As if on cue, both men held out official police badges which he suspected might not be correct identifiers for one of the alphabet soup agencies that he had been expecting.

“Mr. Hawkins, Gerald Hawkins”, the taller of the two men enquired.

“Yes, that’s me.  What can I do for you, Inspector?”

“It’s Detective Sergeant Richards, but thank you for the promotion.”, he replied.  "This is DS Williams."

“Not at all.  Unfortunately, I don’t think it comes with any extra money. So what can I do for you”.

“We’d like to talk to you about the advertisement you placed with the AARP.”

“Of course, do come in.  I’m having coffee in the kitchen, so we’ll talk there if you don’t mind?”

Both men nodded, and he led them across the large, expansive lobby into his kitchen where he pointed them to stools on one side of the granite worktop.  “Would you like some coffee, gentleman.  It’s Nespresso?”

After they had both accepted the offer of coffee, and he had made 3 fresh cups, he sat down opposite them, and looked at them expectantly.  “So what would you like to know?”

“The purpose of your advertisement, Sir?” replied the man who, so far, had done all the talking.

“Perhaps you could tell me why you are asking?”, he replied with a smile.

“The phrase ‘High risk, high reward’ caught our attention?”

“Yes.  Let me see.”, He mused, stroking his short beard.  “How best to explain this?”

“Please do,” replied the second man, speaking for the first time.

“Of course,” he answered.  “You know who I am, and, presumably something about me and my background.  Correct?”, he asked.

“Yes, sir,  we do.”

“Good.  I’m what you might describe as a somewhat eccentric billionaire.  Eight billion at the last count.  I’m looking to find some deserving people to help, financially that is.  That is why I placed the ad.”

“Could you explain the high risk, high reward part?”

“That’s a bit of a stretch, I’m afraid, designed to discourage a lot of people.  The high reward part is accurate.”

“What exactly are you looking to do?”

“Change 10 people’s lives, gentlemen. That’s the simple answer.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“By giving those people, who society has thrown away, a second chance.  That’s as far as I’m willing to go in terms of an explanation.”

“Why is that, Sir?”

“As you well know, I’ve asked all applicants to contact me via the Signal app.”

“Yes, sir, we do know that.  In fact, that was the 2^nd thing that caught our attention.”

“Yes, I thought it might be the case. Signal is being used because it is a secure messaging service in order to keep everything private.  Now, maybe the NSA can read the messages, but maybe they can’t.  In any case, this is a confidential, and private project, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“We can insist on a more detailed answer.”

“No, you can’t.”, he replied with a smile.  “I have some very high priced lawyers on retainer who will fight tooth and nail to prevent you doing just that. And, if you insist on taking it further, and win, then I will just lie to you, which I’m quite at liberty to do.  Am I making myself clear?”

“You are, sir.”

“Then,” he asked.  “Is there anything else?”

“No, sir.  Thank you for your time.”

“My pleasure.”

Both men put their cups down, stood, and he escorted them to the front door which opened as soon as they got within 10’ feet of it. “In case, you’re wondering,” he said. “The door is keyed to my biometrics which means it only opens the door when I approach it.  In fact the entire house, and grounds is full of some extremely sophisticated electronics to protect it, and me, of course.”

“Why is that necessary, Mr. Hawkins?”

“When you are as rich as I am, Sergeant, you’re a target.  I don’t intend to be an easy one!”

After they had got into their government issued sedan, and driven off, he went back into the house, the door silently closing behind him.  He had told them what he could, but nothing of his true plan, and he had one of those.  It was a very complicated plan that he had spent months laying out, figuring all of the angles, and taking into account all of the things that might go wrong.  But he hadn’t risen to his current position by not being able to analyze, and think through complicated scenarios.  Being a chess grandmaster had also helped.

Chapter 3 – Collaboration

Hawkins sat in silence for a few minutes after the policemen had left.  He didn’t believe for one second that both men had actually been police detectives; in fact he was quite sure that one of the two had been Homeland Security, but it didn’t concern him in the slightest.  He had, after all, expected the advertisement to draw their attention.  It was all part of the plan.

“Got any more coffee?” came a voice from behind him.

“Help yourself, Joe.”, he replied without turning.

The man who had just entered the kitchen walked past him, grabbed a mug from the rack and turned the Nespresso machine back on.  “You want another?”, he asked.

“I’m good.  Already at my limit for the day.”

“You are really disciplined, aren’t you!”, said Joe, not expecting an answer.

Hawkins smiled. “Sure am.”

“So how did it go with your visitors?”

“You were listening in, Joe.  You know how it went!”

“No surprises there except that I thought they would push you a bit more!”

“With the money, and influence I have, Joe, I doubt they’ve got the nerve.  They might pay me a second visit, but I actually doubt that.  I am sure that they’re going to be doing some investigating, and I’m equally sure that they’re going to submit one or two applications of their own, to try and get somebody inside.”

“How will you prevent that?”

“I’ve got a few ideas, but I’m not going to worry about it for the moment.”

“What’s next?”

“Hard work.  I’ve still got over 300 applicants I have to weed through.”

“How are you going to do that?

“First thing I’m going to get each of them to fill out a questionnaire on a secure, anonymous web site.  The answers will go straight into the database.”

“How does that work?”, asked Joe, genuinely intrigued.

“The questionnaire is done with Claris Studio, and I’ve got a FileMaker database connected to it.  I’ve built a ranking system into it which will give me a score based on the answers.  High scores move forward,  low scores don’t.”

“But, what if the answers are being made up? How will you tell?”

“The algorithm should pick that up.  The scoring system will flag every entry over a certain number as being ‘too good to be true’, and I’ll take a closer look at those.”

“Sounds reasonable,” replied Joe.  “How long is that going to take?”

“Probably a couple of weeks.  It’ll take some time for everybody to complete the questionnaire, and then for me to analyze the results which will get me down to 50 potentials.”

“Then how do you get down to the 10 you actually want?”

“The first step will be to get the home addresses of each of the 50.  Then I’m going to have the agency run background checks on all of them.  That’ll take another two to three weeks.”

“You think they’re just going to give you their addresses?”

“They will when they know that if they do, they’ll get a check for $1,000 in the mail.  I don’t see any of them turning that down.”

“I guess not.  I certainly wouldn’t!  What then?”

“Those that pass the background check will have to fill in a second Claris Studio form which should allow me to eliminate most of them, and those that are left, well, they’re the chosen ones.”

“What if you don’t end up with 10?”

“Then I’ll make a couple of exceptions.  Probably do a video interview with each of them.  Might do that with all of them anyway.”

“What will you use to do that?”

“Zencastr.  I’ll have my camera turned off so they won’t be able to see me, but I’ll be able to see them, and I’ll be recording each interview.  It will also be analyzed for high levels of stress; kind of like a lie detector, but without all of the sensors.”

“You really have thought all this out, haven’t you?”

“How long have you known me, Joe”, asked Hawkins.  Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “When have you ever known me to not think things through thoroughly?”

“Never, I guess.”

“You mean “Never, don’t you?”

“I guess I do,” said Joe as he made another cup of coffee. “You are a really smart guy!”

Hawkins smiled in acknowledgment of the compliment.  “Maybe I’ll have a cup of decaf,” he said.

“Coming right up.”

Chapter 4 – The Board Meeting

Gerald Hawkins strode into the Conference Room of Gestalt Holdings, followed closely by his PA, Martin Williams.  Nodding to the other board members, he took his seat at the head of the table and crossed his arms.  He was not pleased to have been summoned to this meeting by his Board, but as Chairman and CEO, of a public company, he was obliged to come when they called.  Fortunately they didn’t call very often.

“Why am I here?”, he asked without preamble.  He hadn’t gotten to where he was in life by engaging in meaningless small talk.

“We’re a bit concerned,” replied Adam Laurenson, his Chief Operating Officer, “about the direction you want to take the company.”

“Specifically?”

“You plan on firing our entire IT department, and replacing every single Windows machine we have with the new iMacs.  It’s a huge investment, and it’ll leave us vulnerable!”

“How so?”

‘We rely on the IT department to keep everything running, and safe.”

“That’s not actually true.  They spend most of their time objecting to anything anybody wants them to do and when they not doing that they’re installing new versions of Windows, purging viruses.”

“Alright,” replied Laurenson.  “It’s still a huge investment!”

“No, it’s not, and it will pay for itself very quickly.  We’re going to spend $3 million buying everybody one of the new iMacs, and a 27” 2^nd monitor.  We’re going to save $500K a year by eliminating the IT department.  The other thing that you’re failing to take into account is that the iMacs have a much longer life than the Windows machines we’ve been using and the money saved there will more than cover the initial expense.”

“But we’re still going to need IT to support all of the users!” objected another of the Board members; the first time that any of them had said a word since the meeting started.

“I’ve already taken care of that.  The young man that I just hired to develop and maintain our web sites is going to take care of that as well.  And before you object to that, I can tell you that one person is all we’re going to need to support everybody once they’re all on Macs.”

“But all of the staff will have to get used to a new operating system.”

“True, but all they’re actually going to have to do is remember to use the Command key instead of the Control key.  That’s 95% of the difference plus they are all going to so enjoy working with the iMacs that you won’t hear many complaints.”

“But we will have some complaints.  What about those people?”

“Tell them to make sure that the door doesn’t hit them in the arse on the way out of it.  We’ll replace them.”

“I still think it’s something we should delay until we’ve discussed it further and done a feasibility study.”

“Really.  I wonder how long that would take!” replied Hawkins.  Turning to his aide, he asked “Martin, remind the Board how much money we saved when I took over the company and eliminated all of the Enterprise software we were paying huge amounts of money for?”

“$1.2 million,” was the reply

“Was that annually, Martin?”

“Yes, sir.  It is.”

“And how much did it cost for us to develop all of the FileMaker™ databases that we now use to run the company?”

“I’m not sure exactly, Sir, but it was well under $100,000.”

“That was a one-time cost?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what happened when I eliminated every single spreadsheet in the company and moved everybody over to using the FileMaker systems?”

“Productivity went through the roof, Sir.”

“I presume that quite a few people left when we did this!”

“No, sir.  Our staff turnover is down to almost zero due to the changes, plus you raised everybody’s pay by 30%

“Do we know what the end result of all these changes were?”

“We can’t exactly quantify it, but we have increased our turnover by 3 times since the last of those changes was implemented.”

“And our annual turnover is now?” enquired Hawkins, already knowing the answer, as he had done to all of the previous questions.

“$3 billion, sir.”

“And I presume we did a feasibility study on each of these changes?”

“No, sir, we did not.”

“So, there you have it, you’re concerned about the $3 million I want to spend and the direction I now want to take the company, in spite of the fact that the changes I’ve already made have increased turnover by $2 billion annually and which has made you and all the shareholders I might add, exceedingly rich?  Did I get that right, Adam?”

“Well, yes, but …” Hawkins interrupted him in mid-stream.

“There are no buts, here, Adam.  What I do and have done increases the value of this company and everybody who has shares in it is laughing all the way to the bank.  Now when that changes, you can question the correctness of my decisions, but until then, stop wasting my time!  Are we done here?”asked Hawkins as he stood to leave.

Nobody made a move, or said a word to stop him from doing just that.  He noticed, with a small internal smile, that two of the board members, were glaring at Laurenson.  Turning at the door, he said “Adam, I’d like to meet in my office!”

“Now?” asked Laurenson

“Yes, now.” Came the reply.

Chapter 5 – Homeland Security

“So what do we know about Hawkins?” asked the senior of the two men sitting around the conference table.

“He’s rich, very rich.  IRS has him pegged at around $8 billion.”

“That’s rich.  What else?”

“Graduated Magna Cum Laude from Harvard.  Joined the Marines, and served in Vietnam with distinction.  Retired as a Lieutenant Colonel.  Went into the private sector as COO of a small engineering company.  Within two years, he had turned it around, and bought the previous owners out.  Three years later, he had taken over all of the competition in that sector, and rolled them all into a holding company called Gestalt Holdings.  Then he started buying into different sectors, and now owns about 100 companies.”

“Sounds like a high flyer!”

“He is exactly that.  He seems to have an uncanny knack for rooting out inefficiencies and increasing profits.  He also pays all of his employees incredibly well, so there is almost no staff turnover.  There is one interesting thing!”

“What’s that?”

“He can’t stand Yes men.  If you work for him, you’re expected to raise your hand and disagree with him if you think he’s wrong on an issue.”

“Interesting.  So I take it that there are no ‘Yes’ men in his companies.

“None.  Every so often he’ll float a bad idea to see how loud the opposition to it is.  Anybody that goes along with it, finds themselves looking for a new job.”

“Does he fire them?”

“No, he’s smarter than that.  He just puts them in a position that they’ll hate.  They see the writing on the wall and start sending out resumes.  He’ll give them a good reference and there are always companies with bad or insecure senior management that will hire them.”

“You said he pays his employees incredibly well.  How so?”

“Entry level employees get paid $10 per hour more than minimum wage, but never less than $20 an hour. After a year, those that remain are put on a salary that is 30% higher than they would get anywhere else, and annual raises are a matter of course.  He expects everybody to work hard, and pays them very well to do so.”

“That’s pretty smart.  Gets the cream of the crop, and pays them so well that they don’t want to leave.”

“Yep.  We’ve talked to a few of his employees and they all say he’s a terrific boss and that people, not profits, come  first.”

“But the profits do come!”

“Yes they do.  Gestalt is incredibly profitable.”

“Is he married?”

“Widowed.  Married his childhood sweetheart. She was killed in a car crash while he was in Vietnam.  He’s never remarried although he’s always being linked to some beautiful woman.”

“Social activities?”

“Not much.  He’s a chess Grandmaster, a bit of a prodigy in that field.  Occasionally plays in a high profile chess tournament, and does pretty well.  Doesn’t have any close friends other than Joe Simpson.”

“What do we know about him?”

“They served in the military together, got out at the same time, and Joe’s been with him ever since.  They’re like family.”

“And this Simpson fella.  What’s he worth?

“A lot; at least $20 million.  He’s paid $2 million annually, plus he always gets an annual bonus of extra shares in the company..”

“So he’s very loyal?”

“You could say that!”

“Anything else?”

“He’s very active politically.  Any time there’s a hint of corruption, or impropriety from any serving politician, he makes it very public and shames them.”

“Does that make any difference?” asked the first man. “I thought all politicians were shameless!”

“It depends on who you talk to.  He hits them where it hurts, and calls out the companies and people who donate to their campaigns.  If they keep donating, he keeps calling them out publicly until they stop donating, or take their money elsewhere.”

“So he is making a difference!”

“I’d say Yes.”

“Political bias?”

“He calls himself an Independent, but he leans Democrat and he’ll go after any politician who draws his ire.”

“I think we need more people like him,” said the man, with a slight laugh.

“Yes, I agree.”

“Does he fund these campaigns privately, or through one of his corporations?”

“He has a political action committee that he funds personally to the tune of $30 million a year, sometimes more.  Spends most of that money on TV and print ads.  Has a team of very slick and smart people who put together all of those.”

“Who runs it?”

“Joe Simpson; his right hand man.”

“What did Hawkins have to say about this advertisement of his?”

“Just that he’s looking to improve some peoples’ lives, but nothing more.”

“Did you press him?”

“I tried, but he refused to go into more details.  Basically, he told us to go screw ourselves.”

“Do we have any leverage?”

“No.  He’s insulated, and represented by very high priced and competent firms and lawyers.”

“Do we know anything more about his advertisement?”

“Only that it was only placed in the AARPs magazine, and ran for 10 days.  The Signal number that’s he using is not responding to anything that came in after the post ended.”

“Do we know how many people responded?”

“No, Signal’s secure, and we can’t hack into it.  Best guess is a lot.  The ad would have hit a lot of retirees but we’ve no idea who, or what type of person he’s looking for.  And we definitely don’t know why!”

“How many responses did we submit?”

“25. We thought that was a fair number, but we’ve no way of knowing.”

“Any response to them?”

“2 were asked to submit a photograph, but we’ve heard nothing more since.”

“What’s our next step?”

“We don’t have one.  He’s not done anything illegal that we know of.”

“OK.  Well let’s keep an eye on things.  See if anything shakes loose!”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter 6 – Feet to the fire

Joe Simpson walked into the kitchen where Gerald Hawkins sat reading the paper.  “Morning, Gerry,” he said.

“Hey Joe.” replied Hawkins.  “What’s new?”

“Got a call from TV13 last night.  They want to do an interview with me about the SuperPAC and I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea or not.  What do you think?”

Hawkins thought for a moment before replying. “I don’t see why not, Joe.  I can’t think of any downside.”

“Probably not but what if they want to do a hatchet job?”

“Well, let’s get them to agree to submit their questions beforehand so we can have the lawyers review them, plus they’ll have to agree not to spring any surprises.”

“And if they do?”

“Then you just remind them politely and on-air that the question was not in the list they submitted, and say nothing more.”

“That should work.  They also asked if you would consider doing the interview with me.”

“I presume you told them that the chances of me agreeing to that were slim?”

“I actually said that a snowball would have a better chance in hell!”

“Did you now?”, asked Hawkins with a grin.

“I’m pretty sure that those were my exact words.”

“When do they want to do it?”

“The day before Congress and the House come back to work.  That’s in about 3 weeks.”

“Okay, so get them to send their questions over to both us, and Bill Schumacher, right away, and tell them Yes subject to the conditions we’ve laid out.”

“Will do.  More coffee?”

“Why not.  I’ve only had one.”

With all the questions submitted and approved and with the studios agreement to the rules, Joe Simpson arrived at the studio an hour before air time.  He didn’t know how long make-up would take, and he’d always been a believer in leaving plenty of time.

`The hour passed quickly and he was soon on stage being fitted with the mic.  While the technicians were doing that, he made small talk with the host, an attractive woman in her mid-30s named Janice Hollingsbeck and they were soon both laughing, a good sign for what was about to come.

The Director started the countdown and within seconds Janice had transformed into a professional TV journalist.

“Good evening, I’m Janice Hollingsbeck, and my guest today is Joe Simpson who runs a SuperPAC called ‘Feet to the Fire’.  That’s a rather unusual name for a SuperPAC, isn’t it, Joe?”

‘Maybe, “ he replied “But it is what we do after all.”

“Could you explain for our viewers what exactly that is?”

“Sure.  When a politician, or any public figure for that matter, does or says anything that we feel is not in the public’s interest, we publicize that, and we hold their feet to the fire until they reverse course.”

“And do they?”

“Most of the time.”

“But what about when they don’t?”

“Then we go to stage 2.”

“Which is?”

“We hold their backers, sponsors feet to the fire until they get the course reversed.”

“That sounds very political.”

“It is but we’re not targeting one party; we’re targeting all of them.  Unfortunately Congress is full of incompetent, inept and, in many cases, people who are somewhat corrupt.  Those people see themselves as being served instead of serving the people who elected them.”

“When you use the words incompetent and inept, are you saying that these people are stupid?”

“Some of them certainly are.  There was a case not that long ago of somebody; I think it was Louis Gohmert from Texas, asking the Park Service if they could alter the orbit of the moon. That’s pretty dumb.  And there are lots of other examples like that.  In fact, I have a theory that those people got into politics because they couldn’t find a real job!”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“Nope.”

“How do you actually hold them accountable?”

“We buy a lot of TV spots, Internet ads.”

“That sounds expensive?”

“It is, but fortunately we have a lot of money behind us, and the SuperPAC can afford it.”

“And the  money comes from?”

“Janice, you know I’m not going to answer that question.” replied Joe.

Janice Hollingsbeck gave a slight laugh.  She’d known that the question was outside of the agreement but had thought she’d try her luck.

“Of course.  How many campaigns are you running at any one time?”

“Usually a couple.  Right now, we’ve got 3 including one repeat offender.”

“Is that common?”

“No, but he’s going to find himself unelectable pretty soon; that is if he doesn’t get thrown out of Congress for ethics violations.”

“You mean like George Santos?”

“Yes, exactly like him.  In fact, he’s one of our success stories.”

“How so?”

“I would have thought that was obvious, Janice,” replied Simpson, with a smile.

“Do you mind if I ask what the cost of that campaign was?”

“I don’t mind if you ask but I’m not going to answer it.”

“Why is that?”

“Firstly, I don’t keep those numbers in my head and secondly that’s confidential information. However, Janice,” he continued.  “I need to remind you of something.”

“Yes, Joe, and what is that?” answered Janice already knowing what he was about to say but Joe surprised her with his answer.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”, he enquired.

She nodded.  She’d already asked 2 questions that hadn’t been approved.  She also knew that he knew she was doing it deliberately.

“Well, I think that’s all we have time for today.  Joe Simpson from Feet to the Fire thank you for joining us today.”

“Oh, it’s been my pleasure.”, answered Joe, waiting for the red light to go off so he could remove his mic. 

Five minutes later he was out of the building and driving away in his Bentley Continental.  Driving it always made him feel like a millionaire, and sometimes he had to remind himself that he was one, many times over thanks to Gerry. That was a debt he could never repay but he was definitely going to try.

Chapter 7 – Vetting

With close to 300 applicants remaining, it was time to narrow the field down substantially, but impossible to do it by interviewing every one and Gerry still wanted to remain anonymous.  Logging into his Claris Studio account, he created a new Hub, and built the Applicant Profile form.

Once he had finalized the form, asking the questions he wanted answers to, he sent out an SMS to all of the remaining applicants.  As soon as those had gone out, he opened up his FileMaker database, logged in with his ClarisID, and connected to the form results so that he could see all of the completed forms as they came in without any need to re-enter any information.  The technology was amazing, he thought.

Over the next few days, the number of completed applications kept increasing.  A simple counter at the top of the screen kept track of how many had been submitted as well as how many were still waiting to come in.  Using the phone number as a key, he connected the forms to the right applicant, building up a complete profile of each.  Then he printed each out on a single page so he could read them, and make notes on each.  He knew that he could have done all that in the database but he was, in some ways, old school and he liked to read things on paper.  Kindle was great to read books but there was nothing like holding a real book in one’s hands.

By the end of the week, he had close to 300 completed applications.  There were still a couple of dozen that hadn’t come in and he figured that those people weren’t that interested so he deleted the form leaving just the results and a few piles of paper to wade through.   Then he deleted all of those people.

Stage 2 was done.  Now for Stage 3 of his plan.

Chapter 8 – Wheat from the Chaff

With close to 300 applications to wade through, Gerry started by separating them into 2 piles.  The first was the outright rejections and the rest were those meriting a more detailed look.  Then he went through the 2^nd pile again moving more into the 1^st pile.  Finally he did it for the 3^rd time but really thinking about each application and taking much more time to do so.  At the end of the process, he had eliminated 252 applications and had 45 left.  It was still a lot but much more manageable.

Going back to his computer, he marked all of the rejections,  As he did so a short SMS message was sent to each of those people thanking them for their application and telling them that they had not been moved to the next level.  He knew that all of those people would be disappointed but they would at least know where they stood and that was important to him.

Pressing the intercom button next to his desk, he said “Joe, you got a few minutes?”

“I’ll be right there,” came the immediate reply and a minute later Simpson walked in holding two cups of coffee.  “I figured you might need a refill about now, so I was getting it ready.”

“Perfect timing then.”

“That’s the military for you.”

Hawkins laughed. One thing the military was not famous for was perfect timing, but punctuality.  Now that was a different matter.  “Down to 45.”, He said.

“Good start.  What do you want me to do?”

“Go through them and put any outright rejects in a separate pile.  Take your time.  I’m going to take my coffee and a quick shower.”

Simpson nodded, sat down in a comfortable armchair with the stack of papers in his hands, laid them on his lap and began to read.  Over the next 20 minutes he separated them into 3 piles not 2.  When Hawkins came back into the room a few minutes later, he looked quizzically at the extra piles.  “Which are the rejections?, he asked.

Simpson picked up the smallest pile and handed it over.  “Just 5.”

“Ok,” said Hawkins.  “What’s the other pile?”

“They’re interesting but I’m not sure that they’re what you’re looking for.  I’d like to think about them a little bit more.”

“Ok.  How many left for me to weed through?”

“28.  10 more rejections and 7 in my pile.”

“28’s a good number.”

“I think so too.”, answered Simpson as he got up out of the chair picking up and handing the 28 papers over as he did so.  The 7 he was keeping, he folded over and stuffed them in the back pocket of his jeans.  “Got anything planned for the rest of the day?”, he asked.

“Follow up visit with the quack.”, Said Hawkins with a wry grin.

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No.  I’m fine.  I’ve got a couple of hours so I’m going to set up a zoom conference to interview the 25 for later on this week.”

“Anonymously, I presume?”

“Yes.  I’m not ready to let them know who I am yet.”

“When do you plan on doing that?”

“When I’m down to the 10 I want.”

“Fair enough.”

Chapter 9 – A Secret Meeting

Gerry Hawkins got in the back of his Mercedes 500.  Bill Hampshire who had been his driver for the past 15 years was already at the wheel waiting for instructions. “Take me to the office please, Bill.”

Bill nodded, put the car into drive and smoothly pulled away.  He was an expert driver with many skills, none of which Hawks had ever needed but knew they were there.  “Keep an eye out for anybody following, please.  If you see any just let me know but we’re not trying to evade them.  I just want to know.”

Ten minutes later, Hampshire spoke up. “Two tails.  One in a dark green Buick, and the other in a grey Volvo.  What do you want me to do about them?”

“Nothing right now but if they’re still there on the way home, do you think you can lose them?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods!”, came the reply.

“Thought so.”

The drive to the office took another 10 minutes. Bill pulled into the underground garage and into Hawkins’ reserved space as CEO.  Hawkins got out of the car.  “I’ll be at least an hour, Bill. Go and get some coffee or stretch your legs.”

“I’ll just wait here.  I’ve got a great book on my Kindle and the time will go fast.”

“What are you reading?”

“The Year of the Locust by Terry Hayes.”

“He wrote ‘I am Pilgrim’ if I remember correctly.

“Exactly right.  Best book I’ve ever read.”

“It was brilliant.  I wonder if they’ll ever make a movie out of it?”

“I sure hope so.”

“How’s the new one?”

Almost as good, but I’m only a third of the way through it yet,”

“Order me a hardback copy will you please?”

“Sure.  Isn’t it about time you went to a Kindle?”

“Nope.  I like to hold a book in my hands.”

“Old school!”

“That’s me.”, Hawkins said as he shut the car door and headed for the private elevator to the top floor of the 50 story skyscraper. He owned the entire building after all.

A minute later he walked into his office.  Before he closed the door, he spoke to his PA. “Marge, I don’t want to be disturbed.  The electric lock will be on, but some people might need discouraging.”

“No problem.”, She replied.

Hawkins closed the door, crossed to his desk, and flicked a switch under the desk.  Silently 3 solid steel bolts slid into place sealing the room off.  Now he had total privacy which was good because he didn’t want anybody to know what he was about to do.  Crossing to the bookcase on the opposite wall, he pulled two books slightly out.  With a hiss, the bookcase slid aside to reveal a hidden safe room that very few people knew about, and none of those worked in the building.  He had had the room retrofitted, along with a second private elevator installed when he had first bought the building, and before anybody had moved in. 

He pushed the two backs back into place, entered the room, pressing another button as he did so.  The bookcase slid back into place.  As always he thought that this room would be a wonderful mystery to solve if he ever went into his office and never came out.  He didn’t think anybody would ever find the safe room.  He sat down at a small makeup table, put a false beard and mustache on, and a wig along with a pair of dark glasses.  Then he put a small stone in his shoe to give him a limp.  Picking up a walking stick, he pressed the elevator button and descended to the 3^rd floor where there was a walkway to the building opposite which he also owned.  The walkway was only accessible by a special keycard and since nobody in the building had one, he was guaranteed that he would be the only person using it.

The precautions were a bit melodramatic, he thought to himself, but he wanted complete anonymity for what he was doing.  With the disguise, he was just another person that nobody would give a second glance to. 

The 3^rd floor on the second building was completely empty.  The cost of keeping it that way was insignificant.  He took another elevator to the underground garage, got into a beaten up old Chevy and drove out.  His destination was only a short distance away and he had plenty of time before Bill Hampshire would begin to worry.

Chapter 10 – Bad News

Hawkins walked into the waiting room of his Doctor’s office.  The receptionist looked up, smiled brightly and said “Go on it, Mr. Hampshire.  He’s waiting for you.”

Hawkins smiled to himself.  He’d been using Bill’s last name as an alias for years, and the receptionist had no idea who he really was, nor would she be able to pick him out of a line-up; the disguise was simple but very effective at hiding his identity.  “Thanks, Ruth’:, he said as he opened the Doctor’s door and went on in.

Harry Truman was waiting for him.  His parents had had a sense of humor and had thought it was funny naming him after a US president and he’d endured the jokes goodheartedly for all of his life.  “Morning, Mr. President.” Hawkins said.

“Very funny, Gerry.”

“Sorry, but it never gets old.”

“Well it should.  Unlike my other patients you’ve actually been to the White House a few times and met a President or 2.”, replied Dr. Truman as he rose to shake hands. “How are you feeling, Gerry?”

“Fatigued.  I don’t have nearly as much energy, but I’m getting by.”

“Pain levels?”

“Bearable mostly but sometimes I get a jolt that stops me dead in my tracks.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“What’s the prognosis?”

“Not good I’m afraid.  The cancer has spread and there’s nothing more we can do about it.”

“How long?”

“Best guess 6 months.  I’m really sorry, Gerry.”

“Not your fault, Harry.  It’s just life.” He paused for a moment. “How long before the pain starts becoming unbearable?”

“4 months, give or take.  I’ve got some new pills for you to take when you need them.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you told anybody about the cancer?”

“Just Joe.  He’s the only one I trust with something like this.”

“He’s your rock, isn’t he?” asked the Doctor.

“Yes, he is.”

“What will happen with the company?”

“I’m selling it.  There’s an offer on the table which will get me out clean in the next couple of months.  I’d asked Joe if he wanted to take over and run it but he said No.  He’s quite happy running the PAC and I’ve told him that I’m putting $200 million in an Escrow account so that he and it are well funded for the foreseeable future.”

“I bet he’s happy about that!”

“He is but he doesn’t know that I’m leaving him a billion and most of the rest is going into a new Foundation that I’ve set up and which he’ll run, if he wants to, that is.  He thinks it’s all going to various charities but most of them are run by people who just take huge salaries and very little gets to the people who should be getting it. Joe will do a much better job of disbursing funds and he’ll have a lot to hand out.”

“A billion is one hell of an inheritance!”

“It is but I expect he’ll give most of it away and that’s okay with me. I’ve also earmarked another billion for cancer research.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.  You giving it to the Mayo Clinic?”

“No, I’m not. You can if you want to though.”

Harry Truman gave him a startled look. “What do you mean?”

“It’s going into your Foundation.  You can use it however you see fit; fund any research projects that you want to  You know what’s going on with cancer research as well as anybody and will know where some extra money can really make a difference.”

“You’ve really rocked my boat with that one, Gerry, but thank you.  I know of at least 3 projects right now that can really use some extra money.”

“And you can help them, right now.”

Again Truman asked “What do you mean?”

The money is being transferred into your Foundation today.  No need to wait until I die, and you can tell me what you’re doing with it.  I’ll be interested to hear.”

“I can do better than that.  I’ll put together a packet of the projects I’d like to fund and allocate money to each.”

“I’d like that but the decision on who to fund is yours, not mine.  If you need more, call Joe.  I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks again, Gerry.  That really is an extraordinary gift.”

“Can’t take it with me, and I’ve no family to leave it to so it might as well do as much good as it can.  You also have an unlimited expense account if you need to travel or anything like that.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to just take the money and run?”

“Nope.  You’ve been my doctor and friend for a very long time and I trust you implicitly.”

“I appreciate that, Gerry, more than you will ever know.’, replied Truman.

“You’re welcome.”

“You know that when the pain gets unbearable, we’ll put you on a morphine drip.”

“Easy to just turn it up a little and I’d slide away!”

“In theory, yes.”

“Sounds good.  When do you want to see me again?”

“No medical need.  Let’s just get together every couple of weeks?”

“Sure.  Come over to the house for dinner.  I’ll have Bill pick you up, and take you back so you can have a few drinks with Joe and I.”

“That sounds great.”

Chapter 11 – Back Home

An hour later, Hawkins had retraced his steps, removed the disguise and left his safe room.  Saying goodbye to Marge, he took the elevator back down to the garage and 5 minutes after that was on his way home. “Still want me to lose the tail, Boss?”

“Not today.”, Answered Hawkins.  “Let’s just head home.”

“You got it,”

15 minutes later Hawkins was walking into his home.  Joe looked up as he came in.”How did it go?”

“We picked up a tail, both directions.”

“That’s quick.”

“Yep.  I thought it wouldn’t take Homeland long.”

“Did you have Bill lose them?”

“Not this time, but they’ve no idea I ducked out for an hour to see Harry.”

“How did that go?”

“As expected.  He says I’ve got 6 months.”

“Is that going to give us enough time?”

“I think so.  It’ll be tight but doable.”

:Did you tell Harry about the donation?”

“I did.  He was shocked and very grateful.”

“He’ll do a lot of good with it.”

“I know,”, replied Hawkins.  “I told him to let you know if he needed any more.”

“Sure, no problem.  What’s next?”

“Got to set up the interviews and get that done so I can pick the 10.  Did you have another look at the ones you picked out?”

“I did.  I think your selections were right on.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I’m taking off for a week early tomorrow.  I’m going to be taking the Gulfstream unless you need it?”

“No, it’s all yours.  I’ve no plans to go anywhere.  When will you be back?”

“Should be within the week but it might be a bit longer.  10 days max.”

“Okay.  Let’s touch base regularly so you can let me know how things are going.”

“Sure.”

“Who are you taking with you?”

“Mac Smith.  I’ve put him on the payroll for 2 weeks.”

“How much is he costing?”

“A lot.  A hundred thousand but he’s worth it.”

“I agree. If you want to remain anonymous, he’s absolutely the best.”

“Where are you heading first?”

“San Francisco, and after that, probably Atlanta.”

“OK.  Are you sure you want to take the Gulfstream?  I can easily charter a private jet.”

“No, the Gulfstream is fine.”

Chapter 12 – Road Trip

Early next morning, Joe Simpson had Bill drive him to the private airport that was just a few miles from home.  On the way, they made a slight detour to pick up Mac Smith who was waiting at the ultra exclusive Ritz-Carlton hotel.  Mac had 2 large metal cases with him which Bill loaded into the trunk of the car.  “Good job you’re not flying commercial!” he joked.

“Too true, but it gets covered under expenses when I travel for work.”, replied Mac.

When they arrived at the airport a few minutes later, Bill pulled the car up to the stairway to the $44 million Gulfstream and carried the cases up into the aircraft. The plane had been configured for 4 passengers to travel in extreme comfort and there was plenty of room for the two passengers and all of the cases.  Joe flicked the intercom switch to talk to the cockpit.  “Take her up.”, he said.

Moments later, the gangway folded up and the door closed.  Five minutes later they were in the air for the short flight to San Francisco.  As soon as they were airborne, Mac unsnapped the catches on  one of the two cases opening it up to reveal a professional make up it.  He was after all one of Hollywood top make up artists, specializing in changing characters appearance.

“Who are we going to be this time?”

Joe handed him a drivers license in the name of Pete Sampson.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why we’re doing this?”

“Call it covert research.  Gerry’s interested in buying some advanced computer technology but he doesn’t want that interest known to anybody until he’s made a decision.  I’m doing the due diligence for him.”

Mac nodded.  Inwardly Joe heaved a sign of relief.  The story he had just told was a complete fabrication and he had hoped it would be accepted at face value.  What he was actually doing was completely different.  What was true is that he didn’t want to be recognized and each of the people he would be talking to would see him as a different person and would describe him as such.

When Joe left the plane in San Francisco, not even his mother would have recognized him.  He had been transformed into Pete Sampson, a slightly overweight guy with long blonde hair, dark brown eyes and a gap toothed grin.  He looked exactly like the drivers license photograph which was hardly surprising since Mac had done the original make-up 3 years ago when Gerry and he had first started planning.

Pete Sampson went straight to the Enterprise car hire company and got into a Buick.  There was no need for him to go to the counter and talk to anybody.  Connecting his iPhone to Bluetooth, he pulled out of the parking lot and dialed a number.  The person he was calling was one of the 7 applicants that he had separated out from Gerry’s pile.  He had pre-called each of the 7 and arranged to meet up with them regarding their application.

The call was answered immediately and crisply “Cory Bateman.”

“Cory, it’s Pete Sampson.  I’ve just left the airport.  Where can I pick you up?”

“At my house.  You’ve got the address?”

“Yes. It’s already in the GPS and I should be there in 15 minutes.”

“Traffic’s pretty heavy today.  I’d allow 20.”

“See you in 20.” Joe ended the call.

18 minutes later he pulled up in front of Cory Bateman’s house, a modest single story dwelling. His research had told him that Cory was under water on the house due to the recent recession and that he was having trouble keeping up with the payments.  Bateman came out of the house as soon as Joe pulled up.  He got into the car and they shooks hands briefly before Joe pulled away.

“Thought we’d take a drive and talk.”

“Sure.” replied Bateman.

Joe reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope which he handed to Bateman. “What’s this?”, asked Bateman.

“Call it a consulting fee.”

Bateman opened the envelope which contained ten $100 bills.  He whistled softly. “Well, that’s a nice surprise.”

“Whichever way this goes, I don’t want you to feel that the time was wasted and this should tell you that I’m serious.  Does it?”

Bateman sat up straighter in his seat.  “It does.  Thank you.  It will come in useful.”

“You’re welcome.  So tell me why you answered the advertisement?”

“It intrigued me to be perfectly honest.  Pretty much described me to a tee and I thought why not.  I didn’t really expect it to go anywhere so this,” he said pointing to the envelope which was now in his lap “has changed my expectations. What exactly are you looking for?”

“I think I’ve found it, Cory, but let’s talk some more first before I tell you why I’m looking.”

“OK, shoot.”

“Tell me about Cory Bateman.”

“That’s easy.  Joined the Marines out of school and then moved over to Delta.  Did 10 years with them.  Retired.  Bounced around, did a few things.  Mostly physical stuff.  Office work never appealed to me.”

“Were you with Delta in Kuwait?”

“Yep.”

“What did you do over there?”

“Killed people mostly if I’m honest.”

“In what capacity?”, asked Joe already suspecting that he knew the answer.

“I was with a special program.  We took out high ranking Iraqi targets.”

“So you were an assassin?”

“That’s what we were for sure.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Nope.  They were scum and they were killing our boys so we helped even the field.”

“Did you ever do any contract work after you got out?”

“I was offered a couple and some training gigs for one of the big outfits.  Turned them down; should have taken them.  Damn good money which I could use these days.”

“Why did you turn them down?”

“Didn’t want to do them.”

“Anything else?”

I did bodyguard work for a couple of years.  I hated it.  Bored out of my mind most of the time.  Mostly looking after celebrities keeping the fans away.  Couple of arrogant young shits with more money than sense who thought they were God’s chosen.  Not my thing!”

“Any regrets?”

“Sure, who doesn’t have them.”

“What’s the biggest.”

“Janey dying of cancer, I’d say.  We were together a long time and were very happy.  She got me and never tried to change me.”

“That’s rare.”

“Yep.  I guess the other real regret is that I didn’t capitalize on my skills when I could have done.”

“Do you think you’re past it?”

“No, but who wants old guys like me!”

“I might.”, Answered Joe.

“Doing what?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Let me ask you something.  What would you be willing to do for a $50 thousand payday?”

Cory thought for a few seconds and Joe let him think. “Pretty much anything.”, he finally replied.  “What do you have in mind?”

“That’s a conversation for another time but I can tell you, you’re on a very short list.”

“Okay.”, He said unable to hide his disappointment.

“Don’t be disappointed, Cory.  I’ve got some things I have to take care of first but in the meantime this is to tell you that I’m deadly serious.”  Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a second envelope, this one considerably thicker than the first. “There’s another $4000 in there. That’s yours just for taking this meeting and for being who I hoped you’d be. The likelihood is that you’re going to get a call in the next couple of weeks and will need to take a trip but that’s all I can tell you right now.  Okay?”

“Sure.”, Answered Cory, visibly surprised at the second envelope.  $5000 was already a huge payday, an answer to his prayers and the potential of there being more.  Well that was exciting.

A few minutes later, Joe pulled up in front of Cory’s house.  He reached over to shake Cory’s hand again.  “I’ll be in touch.”

As soon as he pulled away from Cory Bateman’s house, he placed another call.  This time it was to Bart Adams, the second name on his list and who lived about an hours south in San Jose.  The phone was answered immediately with a single monosyllabic grunt, “Yes?”

“Bart, it’s Pete Sampson.  I’m just leaving Redwood City, should take me an hour or so to get to you.  I’ll pick you up at your house if that’s ok?”

“I’m at ‘The Blue Widow’.  Can you pick me up there?”

“Sure.  I know where it is.  I’ll call you when I get there; save me coming in.”

“You don’t like biker bars?”

“I like them just fine but I’m on a tight schedule and sooner have you come out so we can go for  drive and a talk.”

“Okay.”

“See you in about an hour.”  Joe disconnected the call.  He wasn’t surprised at the pick up location.  He knew from his research that Bat was a lifelong biker and a senior member of the San Jose chapter of the Hell’s Angels.  He also know that bikers were a surly bunch with people who they didn’t know and he didn’t want to get into any conflicts.  It’s not that he was worried about the outcome but rather he didn’t want to take any chances that his disguise might come apart in a fight.

Exactly an hour later he pulled into the parking lot of The Blue Widow which was full of Harley Davidsons with 20 or so tough looking bikers standing around outside.  He recognized Bart Adams and stuck a hand out of the window to wave.  Adams nodded, said something to the group he was with and came over to the car.  Getting in he he pulled the door shut, reached over and shook Joe’s hand.  Joe pulled away immediately.

As with Cory, he reached into his jacket and handed over another envelope.  “That’s a consulting fee for one hour of your time today.  It’s $1000 in hundred dollar bills.”

“Appreciate it,”, said Adams, putting the envelope into his jacket without even looking at its contents.

“So what made you answer the ad?  It looks like you’ve got lots of friends and you don’t look like you’re running low on money!”

“True, but I am a bit bored these days and I’m getting a bit long in the tooth for a bikers life.  I’m also thinking of getting out of California.  Cost of living is insane, especially rent.”

“You don’t own your house?”

“Nah.  Always rented

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“Vegas.”

“Not cheap any more.”

“I know but it’s going to be a lot cheaper than San Jose.”

“True.  So tell me about yourself?”

“Not that much to tell.  I’ve been riding with the Angels most of my life.  Signed up for Desert Storm; spent 2 years over there, lucky to survive. Bad memories, bad war.”

“What did you do after you got back?”

“Worked construction mostly.  I’m a pretty good carpenter; only thing my old man taught me.”

“Married?”

“Was.  Didn’t work out?”

“Children?”

“One son.  Lives in Boston. Computer genius so I hear.”

“You’re not close?”

“Doesn’t approve of the biker life; never did.  He moved across country as soon as he could.  We’re not in touch.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Shit happens.  So what’s this job?”

“I’m putting together a team and you might be just the type of person I’m looking for.”, Replied Simpson.

“To do what?”

“That’ll come later if you’re selected.”

“Ok.  What’s the time frame?”

“Short.  I’ll let you know within a week.  Are you able to break ties here quickly and get on the road?”

“Yeah, sure.  No problem.  Where to?”

“Rideable.”

“That’s good.  I wouldn’t want to leave the Harley.”

Joe pulled over into a motel parking lot.  Pulling out another larger envelope he handed it to Adams.  “This is another four grand.  That’s to show you I’m serious and for you to keep this meeting between us.  Ok?”

“Sure, no problem.  I appreciate the money.”

“I’m sure you do.  I’m going to drop you back at the bar.  I’ll be in touch one way or the other.”

Five minutes later, he had dropped Adams at the bar and was on his way back to the airport.  Getting a second phone out of his pocket he called the pilot and let him know that he was on the way back. “File a flight plan for Atlanta,” he said.

A short distance from the airport, he pulled into a gas station to fill the rental up.  While it was fueling, he took the burner phone he’d been using to contact Bateman and Adams and removed the sim card which he broke in two and tossed the pieces into a trash can.

Back on the freeway, he opened the car’s electric window and tossed the burner phone into the bushes severing all traces of the contact he had made.  Once back on the plane he would shred the drivers license and credit card he’d been using and Pete Sampson would cease to exist.

Chapter 13 – Atlanta

The flight to Atlanta took just over 3 hours so by the time they landed it was early evening, and too late for the next meeting.  Knowing that would be the case. Joe had called The Ritz Carlton and reserved a suite for him and Mac, and separate rooms for the two pilots.  Loading Mac’s cases and their own luggage they went to the hotel, checked in and arranged to meet in the lobby an hour later.

The Ritz Carlton limousine took the four of them to Kevin Rathbun Steak on Krog St; famous for its Cowboy Ribeye which they all ordered.  It was as good as promised and was washed down with an exceptionally good Merlot.  Both of the pilots limited themselves to a single glass since they knew they might be flying the next day, but Joe and Mac Smith had 3 glasses each.  Conversation was convivial but the reason for the visit, indeed the whole trip, wasn’t discussed.

Returning to the hotel around 10pm, the pilots said good night and headed to their luxurious rooms.  Mac and Joe went to the bar, found a quiet corner near a roaring log fire and ordered two brandies.

“What’s the schedule for tomorrow, Joe?”, asked Mac.

“I’ve got two meetings; one here in Atlanta and then one in Marietta.  It’s a short drive up there so I’ll be back by 4.  We’re staying here tomorrow night and then we’re heading to Miami for a short stop.  After that we’re off to Sin City for a couple of nights and then back home.  One of the people I’m meant in Vegas lives there, and the other one is driving up from Phoenix which is why we’re going to stay 2 nights.”

“A lot of traveling for a few short meetings,” commented Mac.

“It is, but flying private makes it nicer.”

“Oh yeah.  The Gulfstream is so comfortable.”

“It is that.”  Finishing his brandy, Joe stood up.  “I’m heading up.  How about you?”

“Going to finish this brandy, listen to some piano music for a while then I’ll be up.  What time do you want to get started tomorrow?”

“Not too early.  I’ll have room service bring breakfast at 8.30 and then you can go to work.”

“Sounds good.  Night, Joe.”

“Night.”

Back in the Suite, Joe picked up his iPhone, made sure he was connected to the hotel’s wifi network, and called Gerry using Signal.  Gerry answered immediately.  “How’s the road trip?”, he asked.

“Productive.  Two good candidates.  I’ll fill you in when I get back, but I’m confident about the others.”

“The Farm is ready.”

“Fully stocked?”, asked Joe.

“Yep.  Enough food and drink for a month and plenty of things to keep them occupied.”

“Great.  How are you feeling, Gerry?”

“A bit fatigued to be honest.  A little pain but nothing I can’t handle.  I’m keeping to myself mostly.  Harry’s came over earlier to check up on me and have dinner.  We had a nice evening other than the elephant in the room!”

“Well, it is a room big enough to fit an elephant in, isn’t it?”

Gerry laughed.  “True,”, he said.  “Night, Joe” and ended the call.

Joe thought about the Farm that Gerry had mentioned.  It was a private estate in the ultra private and exclusive area of Ojai on the way to Santa Barbara.  Gerry had bought it some 15 years earlier for $15 million through one of his offshore companies.  It was dead-ended in that it would be impossible to track the ownership back to Gerry and, as such, was perfect for what they had in mind.  It was rarely used and was looked after by an elderly couple who took good care of the place in exchange for somewhere to live and a salary that enabled them to live well, and still save most of it.  They would be heading to Hawaii on their annual vacation in a couple of weeks so the place would be completely vacant for when the guests moved in, and before that happened, the entire house would be swept for bugs.  Joe knew they wouldn’t find any but he wasn’t willing to take any chances; there was too much riding on it.

30 minutes later, he had taken a shower and got into bed.  Within seconds he was fast asleep; one of the most useful skills he had learned when in the Army.

After breakfast the next morning, Joe sat in a chair at the dressing table while Mac transformed him into the second of his identities.  This time he was Andrew Creighton, an elderly man with a shock of white hair, blue eyes, and a full but neatly trimmed white beard.  Andrew was wearing a new pair of Levi 501’s, a white T-shirt under a black leather jacket, and a pair of cowboy boots which had lifts in them to make him appear taller than he was.  The outfit was finished off by a pair of rose tinted wire framed glasses.   Joe smiled as he looked at himself in the mirror; he didn’t think his own mother would recognize him.

Taking the elevator down to the ground floor, he walked out of the hotel and got into one of the waiting taxis. “Enterprise Rent a Car,” he said as he settled back into the comfortable leather seats.  Fifteen minutes later he had been dropped off and was driving away from the rental lot.  This time he had taken a Tesla, once a rarity at car rental companies but now becoming more of a common sight.  They were expensive but he had long ago stopped being concerned about the extravagances that he now took for granted.  It wasn’t that he had no regard for money; it was simply that in his world you too advantage of things that made your life easier and more comfortable.  The Tesla was certainly one of those things.  He didn’t care much for Elon Musk who, since taking over Twitter, had revealed himself to be a petty dictator and thoroughly unpleasant.  Joe wondered if somebody with that much money and influence wasn’t a threat to democracy but since there was nothing he could do about that, he put it out of his mind.

Connecting his new burner phone to the car wi-fi, he dialed the first person on his list, Cody Jackson who lived on the outskirts of Atlanta.  Cody was one of the most interesting people on his list having been a stunt man in the movies for more than 20 years.  He’d worked on all of the John Wick movies and, according to legend, had been killed by Wick more than two dozen times over the 4 movies.  He’d retired a year ago, but had two ex-wives he was paying alimony to, and 4 kids he supported.  He definitely had money problems.  The family ties weren’t ideal but Joe didn’t think that would be a problem.

Arranging to pick Cody up at his house, he was soon pulling up outside where Cody was already waiting. He got in the car, they shook hands and Joe pulled away.  “Nice make-up job,” was the next thing that Cody said.

“What do you mean,” asked Joe already knowing the answer.

“It’s top of the line work,” answered Cody, “but I’ve been around the movie industry for a long time, and I know when somebody’s playing a character.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Nope, but I thought I’d let you know that I’m not fooled.”

“Do you think you’d recognize me if you saw me on the street?”

“Probably not,” admitted Cody.

“Then we’re good.  So, Cody, why did you reply to the advertisement?”

“It was a bit intriguing.  I liked the ‘high risk, high reward’ part to be honest.”

“So I take it that risk doesn’t bother you.”

“Not if it’s calculated and I calculate everything.”

“Good.  And the high reward part?”

“Two ex-wives so double alimony payment and 4 kids that I support?”

“Sounds expensive!”

“It is, very.”

“So if I were to tempt you out of retirement with an offer, what would that offer need to be?”

“Not sure I know the answer to that,” replied Cody.  “It would depend on the job and the situation.”

“Hypothetically without going into any detail would a $50K payday interest you?”

Cody thought for a second before answering. “It would.”

“Good,” said Joe as he reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope which he handed to Cody.  “There’s 5 grand there just for taking this meeting and to tell you that I’m serious.”

Cody opened the envelope and looked the stack of $100 bills.  “Appreciate it.”

“If I called and asked you to come to California for a month at short notice would that present any problems for you?”

“No.  I’ve got nothing going on that I can’t get away from.”

“What about your kids?”, asked Joe.

“They all live with their mothers.  I see them but not all the time and they’re teenagers.”

“You mean they don’t care if their parents are around or not?”

“They prefer it when we’re not.”

“I hear that,”

“So what’s next on the agenda?” asked Cody.

“You wait to hear from me.  It’ll be within a week.  If I call, I’ll want you in California within a couple of days.  You’ll make your own arrangements to get there but all expenses will be reimbursed when you get there, plus there’ll be another 5 grand for making the trip.”

“But I still won’t know why?”

“No, you won’t,” agreed Joe.  “But you’ll be briefed and if you want out, you’ll get dropped off at the airport, and you’ll have made ten grand, in cash with no risk.”

“Fair enough.”, replied Cody.

After dropping Cody back at his house, Joe made his second call, this time to Harry Jones in Marietta, a 25 minute drive way, and told him that he was on the way.

Picking up Harry Jones around 30 minutes later, Joe asked for directions to a nearby diner where they could get coffee and something to eat.  Harry told him that there was one just around the corner and 5 minutes later, they were sitting in a booth at the back with a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of them.  Joe ordered a blueberry muffin and Harry ordered a side of wheat toast.

Harry Jones was a good looking man with an impressive physique.  He had been a personal trainer since getting out of the military 30 years earlier and kept himself in shape.  He wore a black t-shirt and blue jeans with Nike trainers on his feet.  Joe couldn’t see any tattoos but he thought they might be there, hidden under the shirt.

“So, Harry, tell me why you answered the advertisement?”

“It caught my eye.”

“What part?”

“Money mostly.  It’s tough being a personal trainer especially when you get to my age.”

“How old are you?”

“66.”

“You’re still working though.”

“I am but mostly people want younger trainers.  I’m as fit and as strong as anybody, but they don’t see that, or probably even care.”

“Do you have any ties, family?”

“No.  My old lady moved to Hawaii to be with her family, and I never had the interest in dating or finding somebody else.”

“No children?”

“No, none.  Never liked them much so didn’t want any of my own.”

“How about your military service?”

Gulf War, of course.  Signed up in the last year of the war so only spent 9 months over there.  Felt like a lifetime, and it was.”

“What did  you do?”

“Combat medic.”

“You didn’t want to get into medicine when you got out?”

“No.  I saw enough of bodies torn apart for a lifetime.  It’s not that I’m squeamish but enough’s enough.”

“Hobbies?”

“Martial arts.”

“Which?”, asked Joe.

“Aikido is my main one.  I’m a 3rd Dan, and I teach it at a local dojo.  But I’m also a black belt in Shotokan karate.”

“Do you compete?”

“Not any more.  I used to.”

“Why did you give it up?”

“I didn’t need to prove anything any more, and it was time to stop doing it.”

Joe signaled the waitress for the check, handed her a $10 note and told her to keep the change.

Back in the Tesla he asked “What would you like the advertisement to be for?”

“I don’t know that I care.  As long as the money’s good.”

“What if I wanted you to rob a bank?”

“Do you?” asked Harry.

“No, but what if I did?”

“I’d want to see how well it had been planned.”

“So, no moral objections, then?”

“Not really.  At my age, I don’t have all that much to look forward to.”

“Well, that’s exactly why the advertisement was placed.  You’re the forgotten generation which is all wrong.  You bring decades of knowledge and experience to any table but people don’t want it.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Check the glovebox, Harry.  The brown envelope.”

Harry Jones opened the glovebox, took out the brown envelope, opened it and whistled. “Wow.  Have I been hired?”

“Not yet.  That’s for you for taking this meeting.  If you get selected, there’ll be a lot more than that.  Are you interested?”

“You bet I am.”

“Great.  You’ll hear from me within a week.  He then told Harry exactly the same thing as he had told Cody Jackson earlier that day.  Dropping Harry back at his house, he headed back to Atlanta.  Using his regular cell phone he called the pilot and told him that they were going to Miami that evening instead of the following day.  Then he called Mac and arranged for them to all check out and meet back at the airport. He also asked Mac to have the front desk call ahead and reserve them rooms at their South Beach location.

Chapter 14 – Miami

When Joe got back to the plane, the pilots were already in the cockpit and going through their pre-flight checks.  They had already filed their flight plan to Miami-Opa Locka Executive Airport  Mac quickly removed the disguise that Joe had been wearing.  While he was doing so, Joe pulled out the drivers license and credit card in the name of Andrew Creighton, and fed them both into the shredder.  He had already disposed of the SIM card and the burner phone.

“Ritz Carlton South Beach was booked solid but they got us rooms at Bal Harbor.  Hope that’s ok?”

“Sure, it’s actually a nicer hotel.  Were you able to get us a suite?” 

“I got 2 of them.  I asked the guys if they minded sharing one and they said No.”

“Great.  What did you do while I was gone?”

“Wandered around, did some shopping.”

“Did you buy anything?”

“As a matter of fact I did,” he said, rolling back his sleeve to show Joe the watch he had bought.

“Breitling SuperOcean,” said Joe.

“You know your watches.”

“I do.  In fact I have that very same watch in my collection.”

“I guess that means I’ve got good taste!”

“It means we’ve both got good taste.”

“How many meetings in Miami?” asked Mac putting his make up case away.

“Just one.  I’m going to try and get that taken care of tonight so we can leave for Vegas early tomorrow.”

“Where are we staying in Vegas?”

“The Venetian.  It’s not the newest but it’s my favorite and its location is hard to beat.”

“I like it too,” replied Mac.

30 minutes later they were airborne and 2 hours later they were landing in Miami.  Mac and Joe stayed on the jet after the pilots took a car to their hotel.  As soon as they were gone, Joe opened a small hidden safe and took out another burner phone.  Switching it on, he quickly dialed a number that he had stored in his mind.  “Jacob,” he said when the phone was answered.  “It’s Bill Walters.  I got into town early and wondered if you’d be able to meet up this evening instead of tomorrow?” He listened intently for a few seconds.  “No, that fine.  I know it’s short notice.  I’ll call you in the morning around 9. Thanks.”

Ending the call he turned to Mac.  “Well that kills an early start.”

Mac shrugged.  “Nothing wrong with Miami for a few extra hours.”

20 minutes later, the plane was all locked up and they were in a taxi heading for the Ritz Carlton Bal Harbor.  Checking in, they went up to their suite, dropped the bags off and headed downstairs to meet up with the pilots for drinks and dinner. Joe had made a reservation at the Artisan Beach House which was part of the hotel and which was very convenient as well as being highly rated. 

The restaurant lived up to its reputation and the food was fabulous as was the wine.  After paying the $650 bill and leaving another $100 as a tip, they headed back into the lobby of the hotel and Joe told the others that he was turning in.  Back in the suite, he called Gerry on Signal. “We’re in Miami.  I’m meeting Jacob Handley in the morning and then we’re heading to Vegas.  We’ll be there 2 nights, and then home.”

“How’s the recruiting going?” asked Gerry.

“Good.  All 4 so far look very positive and motivated.”

“Great.  Check in with me tomorrow night, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course I will. How are you feeling?”

“The same physically.  Mentally I’m feeling angry.”

“Did you talk to Harry about that?”

“I did.  He says it’s normal but recommended I talk to a psychotherapist friend of his.  I’m thinking about it.”

“I think it’s a good idea, Gerry.”

“Maybe.  I’ll think about it.”

“Ok.  I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

“Thanks Joe.”

The next morning he and Mac were up early and he was being transformed into Bill Walters, a somewhat stout individual with a full bushy beard and several tattoos.  Again different colored contact lenses and a pair of glasses completed the transformation.  Mac opened the door of the suite to check that there was nobody in the corridor, especially the pilots who would be puzzled to see Bill Walters leaving Joe’s suite. Nodding that the coast was clear, Joe quickly left the suite and took the elevator downstairs.  Grabbing a taxi outside, he was taken to the nearest Enterprise Car Rental depot, picked out a Cadillac and was soon on the road for his meeting with Jacob Handley, #5 on his list.

Jacob Handley was 66 years old.  He was quite tall at a shade over 6’1” with long white hair that he wore in a pony tail.  He looked like somebody you wouldn’t want to get into a fight with, and you’d have been right. He’d served in the Marines for 15 years, had done 2 tours in Kuwait and had competed in Mixed Martial Art bouts for a number of years.  Despite his age, he looked youthful and moved with confidence and energy.  He was exactly who Joe was looking for.

Joe picked up Handley at his house and they hit the road.  As with Harry Jones, Joe asked if there was a quiet breakfast place nearby and was directed to a diner about 5 minutes away.  The place was half empty and Joe took a booth at the back. While they were waiting for the waitress to bring their order, they chatted casually about Miami sports.  Hadley was a lifelong Dolphins fan and often went to their home games.

Once they had their breakfast in front of them and the waitress had disappeared, Joe asked his first question. “So what made you answer the advertisement?”

“The high reward part?”

“What about the high risk part?”

“I don’t mind the risk if the reward is big enough.  How much are we talking about?”

Joe slid an envelope under the table and tapped Jacob’s knee with it..  “Put that in your pocket.”

:Jacob reached under the table, took the envelope and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

“There’s $5 grand in cash in there for just taking this meeting.  I presume you can use it?”

“I can.” replied Handley.  “But what’s the job?”

“I’ll get to that later but tell me about yourself?”

Jacob went over his background which Joe already knew.  He never went into a meeting unprepared but he also never gave away his knowledge.  He also almost never revealed that he spoke 4 languages fluently.

“You have to be pretty tough to compete in MMA bouts, don’t you.”

Handley nodded.  “I’m kind of like the Patrick Swayze character in the movie Road House.”

“In what sense?”, asked Joe.

“I don’t remember the exact dialogue but there’s a scene where he’s training the bouncers and he says ‘Be nice, very nice until it’s time to stop being nice and then be nasty, very nasty.’”

“I remember that bit.”

“It’s a great movie.  I’m looking forward to seeing the remake with Jake Gyllenhaal.  Man, has he bulked up.”

“Yes, he does look impressive. Changing the subject, if you get selected for this job, are you willing and able to travel and be away for a month or so?”

“Yep.  Where?”

“California.  LA area.”

“No problem.  Along as it’s not too short notice? I’d need to get my dogs taken care of while I’m away.”

“How many do you have?”

“Two.  Dobermans.”, answered Handley.

“You’d have at least 48 hours.”

“Then no problem.  I can get somebody to come in and look after them.  They’ve got a big yard to run around in.”

“So what’s the job?”

“I can’t answer that  right now but what I can tell you is that if you’re selected and come to California, you’ll receive another $10 grand for doing so.  You’ll then be told what the job is and if you want out, you go home having made $15 grand for pretty much nothing.  All of your expenses will also be covered.”

“Ok.  Sounds fair.  Is it legal?”

“Borderline.”

Handley wasn’t phased at all by that answer.  “As long as I don’t have to rob a bank,”, he said.

“No banks, I promise.”

They finished their breakfast and Joe dropped Handley back at his ranch house.  The two Dobermans were running around chasing each other.  As Handley had said it was a big yard.  Shaking hands again, Joe said “I’ll be in touch, Jacob.”

Handley nodded and opened the gate as Joe drove off.  He noticed that Handley stared after the car as he drove away, probably memorizing the license plate.  It didn’t matter though.  The car like everything else was thoroughly backstopped and there was no way of tracing anything back to Joe or, more importantly, Gerry.

Fishing his own phone out of his jacket, Joe called Mac.  “Wheels up in 2.”

Chapter 15 – Las Vegas

The Gulfstream landed at the private jet terminal at McCarran International in Las Vegas.  A limousine was waiting to take the four to the Venetian where Joe had booked 4 of their ultra-comfortable and spacious suites.  After checking in they headed to the Grand Luxe Cafe inside the Venetian for a late lunch.  The food as usual was superb and the portions humungous but they were all hungry so there was little left over.

Joe’s meeting wasn’t until early evening so with a few hours to kill he and Mac decided to talk a walk along the Las Vegas Strip  Constantly reinventing itself, Vegas was always changing with new hotels such as the Fontainebleau springing up.  Stopping in front of the Bellagio, they watched the fountains dancing to classical music.  “Did you know,” he asked Mac “that it cost $10 million to put that on and that was around 20 years ago?”

“It was longer than that Joe.  It was opened in 1998.”

“Do you know the date?”

“Sure.  October 15.”

“How do you know that?”

“I was here for the opening.”

“And you remember the specific date?”

“You know I’ve got a kind of weird memory for things like that.”

“Yeah.  I bet you can remember the date you first got laid.”

“I do, Joe, but a gentleman never tells!”

Joe laughed and they carried on walking.  They walked up as far as the MGM Grand which was the 1^st hotel to have cost a billion dollars to build and which had since been eclipsed by the Bellagio at $1.6 billion and the Wynn at $2.5 billion.  “Did you know that MGM sold Bellagio for $4.25 billion in 2019?”

“Yeah, I read about it.  The money that changes hands in this town is astonishing.”

“Isn’t it just.  I’m not sure if it’s still there but when the Wynn opened it had a Ferrari dealership in the hotel and they were selling one car a day.”

“That’s insane.”

“Isn’t it just!”

“Here’s an interesting piece of trivia I heard.  I can’t guarantee it’s true but I heard that the Wynn has to make three million dollars a day just to service its debt load.”

“That’s a billion a year.”

“Yep”, replied Joe, “and that’s before they make a profit.”

“I’m glad I’m not in that business,” said Mac.

“Me too.  Let’s head back to the hotel and you can work your magic.”

“Who are you going to be today?”

“Trevor Ratcliffe I think.  Do you remember him?”

“Of course I do.  I remember all of my jobs.  That’s why people pay me so much.”

An hour later, Trevor Ratcliffe walked out of Mac’s suite.  Wearing blue contact lenses, and with a shock of white hair and a goatee, he looked nothing like Joe Simpson but then again that was really why Mac got paid so much.  His memory was one thing, but his skill in transforming actors into somebody else was unparalleled in the industry.

Trevor picked up another car at the Enterprise counter and was soon driving to Henderson where he had arranged to meet Kevin Waite, the 6^th person on his list of 7.  Of all the people on his list, Kevin was potentially the most interesting.  He was certainly a character.

Kevin Waite was 67 years old.  He’d lived in Vegas for most his life, his parents having moved there when he was 2 years old, and Vegas was still a relatively small gambling town run by the mob.  His father had been a Pit Boss originally at Binion’s Horseshoe but had then moved from property to property.  Unfortunately he had developed a bad gambling habit of his own, and had been caught stealing chips on the graveyard shift. His body had never been found which was hardly surprising since the desert had a habit of covering up Vegas’ worst sins.

Kevin had grown up fatherless and with a mother who was an alcoholic.  Unsurprisingly, he’d run wild and had had numerous run ins with the law.  He’d being given the option of going to prison for 18 months for stealing a car or joining the military.  He’d chosen the military and it had saved his life.  During training it was apparent that he had exceptional skills with a rifle and was transferred to sniper school where he came top of his class in everything.  It didn’t matter what they threw at him he thrived.  Where others were collapsing around him, he just powered on through it.  When it came to unarmed combat, even the instructors were wary of him.

He was invited to attend Rangers school and sailed through it easily learning multiple new skills.  He and they also found that he had superior linguistic skills and was soon speaking Arabic and Farsi like a native.  With his dark complexion and long bushy beard, he could, and had, pass as a native Iraqi and had done so on multiple occasions often coming back to base with very actionable intelligence that resulted in several high value Iraqi targets being captured or killed; mostly the latter.

After retiring from the military, Kevin found that his skills weren’t all that useful in civilian life and he had struggled ever since.  He’d taken on a couple of contracts with Blackstone but had hated working with them.  He’d then done some enforcement work for a couple of casinos collecting bad debts but he’d hated that even more and had given it up.  Nowadays he lived an aimless life.

Of all the people that Joe had done research on, Kevin Waite was potentially top of his list but he wasn’t sure that Kevin would want to be on the list.

Marcus Wellbeck met Kevin Waite in a diner on the outskirts of Henderson.  Wellbeck was a rough looking man in his late 40’s, early 50’s who had multiple tattoos on his arms and neck.  He had long hair tied back in a ponytail and wore Rayban Aviator sunglasses that he never took off.  When he sat down at a table with Kevin, people in the diner thought that they were two of the roughest, toughest people they’d ever seen, and made a point of keeping well away.

After they’d shaken hands and Joe, in today’s disguise as Wellbeck, asked Kevin why he had responded to the advertisement.

Honestly,” he replied “I’m bored out of my mind and I’m hoping for something new.  I can also use some extra cash.  Vegas has become really expensive to live.”

“Reach under the table casually.” said Joe and slid an envelope across towards Kevin.  “Put that in your pocket and look at it later.”  After Kevin had done so, Joe continued “There’s 5 grand in there, Kevin, and that’s just for taking this meeting.  I hope it will help.”

“Of course it will.  Thank you.” Kevin leaned forward on the table.  “So what or who exactly are you looking for and why?”

“I can’t answer the why right now but you’re exactly who I’m looking for.”

“I’ve got a lot of different skills under my belt.  If you don’t mind me asking which of them are you most interested in?”

“Kevin, I’ve done my research and I know what those skills are. All I can say is that I’m interested in all of them.”

“Okay.  I’m keen to know more.”

“You’re going to get a call in a week or so, and then I’m going to want you to come to California to a place near Ojai.”

“I know where that is.”, replied Kevin.

“You’ll be joining a number of other people for an initial briefing where you’ll be told what the job entails. If you’re not interested, you can get up and leave but there’ll be another 10 grand just for turning up.”

“And if I am interested?”

“Then I can promise you the potential to make a lot of money and quite likely some excitement.”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“You’re obviously recruiting a tough crew if I’m anything to go by but aren’t we a bit old for whatever it is you have in mind?”

“Some might think that, Kevin, but I’m interested in the people that society no longer wants and that’s people who are past retirement age but you’re correct, I am recruiting a tough crew.”

Kevin nodded.  He was pretty sure that whatever it was, it was going to be illegal but he didn’t care.  He needed the money and craved some action plus he was bored stiff with the life he was living.

Leaving Kevin Waite at the diner, Marcus Wellbeck called Rufus Black, the last name on his list.  Like Kevin, Rufus was a lifelong Vegas resident and like Kevin he’d been a Ranger.  He also had linguistic skills and was fluent in 6 different languages including Urdu, Hindi and Pashtu.  After getting out of the service he’d gone and lived in Asia, mostly in Thailand, but he’d travelled the entire region writing articles for various travel magazines.  He’d also published a couple of books which brought him in a small passive income but none of them would ever make the best seller lists.

According to his research, Rufus was writing a new book but Joe had no idea what it was about; whether it was fiction or non fiction.  He didn’t know but he was going to ask.

He’d arranged to meet Rufus in a small park on the outskirts of Summerlin.  It was a nice day but he kept his jacket on, mainly because there was an envelope for Rufus in it but also because it concealed the handgun he wore in a Bianchi shoulder holster.  He had a CCP (Concealed Carry Permit) for most states and rarely went anywhere unarmed.

Walking into the park, he followed the directions that Rufus had given him over the phone and soon spotted him sitting on a bench reading the Las Vegas Chronicle.  He appeared to be engrossed in the newspaper but as Joe approached he said, without looking up “Take a seat, Marcus.”

As Joe did so, Rufus closed the newspaper, folded it up neatly and laid it down on the bench next to him. Only then did he reach over and shake hands.

“Nice park,” Joe commented.

“It is.  I come here most days to read the paper.  Usually bring a coffee with me but not today.  So what can I do for you?”

“Tell me why you answered the advertisement?”

Rufus thought for a second and then gave pretty much the same answer as all of the others.

“You’ve had an interesting life, Rufus.  What made you leave Asia and come back here?”

“I kind of got stuck,” he replied.  “I’d been living on Phuket in Thailand and had come home to take care of my father’s estate after he’d passed away suddenly.   Then the pandemic hit and I couldn’t get back.  After a while, I guess I got used to being here and put going back on the back burner.  So here I am.”

‘Tell me something about your time over there.  A story of some kind.”

Rufus nodded.  “I was in Nepal and hiking up to a village that supposedly had a well that the water had great healing properties; people in the village lived well past 100.  I’d been hiking on my own for a couple of days and I ran into a local tribesman heading in the opposite direction.  I asked him in Urdu if I was on the right road and he answered me in Hindi which I also speak.  I asked him another question in Urdu and he replied back in Hindi.  This went on for a couple of minutes until I finally asked him why he was replying in Hindi when I was speaking to him in Urdu.  You want to know what he said back, in Hindi of course?”

“Sure.”

“He told em that he was speaking in Hindi as it was well known that no white man could speak Urdu.”

“That’s funny.”

“It happened a lot.  The locals over there simply can’t comprehend that a non-Asian can speak their languages as well as they do.  Sometimes they get so confused because their mental block prevents them understanding what is being said to them even when it’s in their own language.”

“That is strange.  I hear you’re writing another book?”

“Yes, I am.  A novel this time, a spy story.”

“How’s it coming along?”

“Slowly.”, He said laughing.

“Hand me the newspaper, please.”

Rufus did so and watched as Joe slid an envelope from his pocket and into the folds of the newspaper.  “Handing the newspaper back to Rufus, he said “There’s 5 grand in there in cash and that’s just for meeting me today.  In a week, you’ll get a call and be given an address in Ojai up near Santa Barbara.  Pack for a month.”

“What am I going to be doing?”

“Meeting the others who I’ve selected, and finding out what the job entails.”

“And if I’m not interested?”

“Then you’ll leave with ten grand for making the trip, plus all of your expenses will be covered.”

“Sounds too good to be true!”

“It does,” agreed Joe, “but I can assure you it isn’t.  I’ve got something in mind that I think you and the others will find intriguing and will want in on it.”

“Okay.  I can do that.”

After a few minutes more of casual conversation, Joe stood up, shook hands with Rufus who had also risen to his feet and headed back to his car.  Soon Marcus Wellbeck would cease to exist and Joe would be heading home.  It had been a successful, albeit exhausting trip and he had found the people he was looking for.  The only problem was he had 7 equally talented people and he had really only needed 6.  He’d thought that one of the 7 would prove to be wrong for what he had in mind but that hadn’t been the case.  He’d have to run it by Gerry and see what he thought.

Chapter 16 – Leaving Las Vegas

Although it was still early and they could have flown home, Joe had decided to give everybody an extra night in Vegas to enjoy some of what it had to offer. He had bought tickets for the 4 of them for the early show of Ka at the MGM Grand, and made dinner reservations at Bobby Flays’s Amalfi restaurant afterwards.  He hadn’t eaten there before but he’d heard good things and wanted to see if they were true.  He didn’t quite understand why they had closed the very successful Mesa Grille and spent millions changing everything in it but that was Vegas, always reinventing itself.It would only take about 10 minutes to walk from the MGM to Caesars and he’d allowed an hour between Ka ending and the dinner reservation.

He’d told the other that they could do whatever they wanted to do during the day and to charge anything they did in the Venetian to their rooms.  He was quite happy to cover the cost of the R & R and suspected that the Spa would be doing quite well.  He’d also made an appointment there for a 90 minute deep tissue massage, and once he’d got rid of Marcus Wellbeck, he would grab a late lunch and then head to the Spa.

But before he did any of that, he had to talk to Gerry.  Pulling into a strip mall just off the Strip, he called Gerry on Signal using  his own phone.  Marcus’ phone was in a ditch somewhere and its SIM card which was currently in Joe’s jacket would soon be destroyed along with the Wellbeck license and credit card neither of which had been used but Joe wasn’t taking any chances that any of this could be traced back to him.  Sure, he’d been in all the locations but making the connection back to him would be pretty much impossible.

“Hey, Gerry.”

“Hi Joe.  Are you done?”

“Yes.  I’ve just left the last one.  There’s a slight issue that I wanted to run by you though.”

“Go ahead.  We wanted 6 but all 7 are exceptional and I honestly don’t know who I’d leave out.”

“Then take all 7.  The money doesn’t matter and maybe one or two of them will drop out once we get them to Ojai.”

“That’s possible.”, admitted Joe.  “How about yours?”

“I’ve got a Zoom conference set up for all of them the day after tomorrow. I want you here for that.”

“Sure.  No problem. Did you think any more about talking to the psychotherapist?”

“I did and I’ve arranged a video conference with him for the day after tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you decided to do that and I hope it helps.”

“Me too.  What time will you be back?”

“Around lunchtime tomorrow.  I’m taking everybody out tonight.”

“Good.  Have a good time.  See you tomorrow.”  The line went dead.

Joe’s massage was just what he needed.  He had fallen asleep for most of it but had enjoyed what he remembered and he certainly felt loose and relaxed.  After going back to his suite and showering he found that he still had several hours to kill before Ka started so he headed over to the Bellagio’s poker room where there would always be a No Limit Texas Holder game going.  He bought in for $100K and sat down to play.  The table was full and he ended up sitting between Daniel Negreanu and Phil Hellmuth, two of the most successful poker players of all time. Negreanu was always jovial and seemed to be intent on having a great time but Joe knew much of it was an act designed to lull his opponents into making big mistakes.  Hellmuth on the other hand was in a foul mood which was nothing unusual for him either.  While he was a great tournament player, he wasn’t that good in cash games and hating being drawn out on which was happening quite a lot.

After one hand where Hellmuth had flopped trips and then been beaten by a straight, he stormed off the table and, probably, went to drown his sorrows n the bar.  His seat was taken by a TV actor from one of the soaps but Joe couldn’t remember his name and really didn’t care.

For the next couple of hours he played quite a few hands mixing  up his play and bluffing on a couple of big pots; one of which he won, and the other he lost to Negreanu who sensed that he was bluffing and had called with a very poor hand but it was good enough to win the pot.  “Nice call, Daniel.”

Negreanu smiled.  “Thanks.  I knew you were bluffing.”

“I’m sure you did.”

When Joe left the table he did so having won $20K.  It wasn’t a big win by any means but he was quite happy with it and had enjoyed playing.  He’d played a lot when he was in the Army and had supplemented his military salary quite nicely but he’d never wanted to play professionally.  Two or 3 hours playing every once in a while was fun but he couldn’t stand playing for hours day after day as the pros did.  He didn’t quite understand why Negreanu who’d supposedly won more than $45 million kept playing but then again what else would he do with his time if he wasn’t at a table.

Ka was absolutely fantastic and all four of them thoroughly enjoyed it.  On the walk over the pilots kept taking about the amazing stage.  Mac who seemed to know everything said “When they build that theatre,” he said “They spent $168 million on it and that was some 20 years ago.”

“Holy shit,” said Pete, the senior of the 2 pilots.  “That’s unbelievable.”

“Not really.” Replied Mac.  “That’s Vegas.  When Michael Crawford agreed to perform in EFX, he was asked why he would take a job in Vegas when he could perform in London or on Broadway.  He told the reporter that Vegas was the only place where they would spend $45 million to put on a show and not care if it succeeded or not.  These guys are the ultimate risk takers but they’ve always got an edge.  I mean, look around you.  There’s untold billions on display everywhere you look.  Down at the Horseshoe, they’ve got a million dollars on display inside a glass horseshoe.  In the old days that was a lot of money but now it’s chump change and many people will bet that on a single hand of Blackjack.”

“We’re in the wrong business.”, Pete replied.

“No,” said Joe.  “You’re in the right business.  You get paid a lot, you get to travel first class and the only risk you take is if the plane crashes.”

Both pilots nodded in agreement; they knew he was right.

Dinner at Amalfi was excellent but Joe thought that the meal, and especially the wine was overpriced but he also knew that was true of every gourmet restaurant in Vegas.  If you cared how much it cost, you couldn’t afford it.

It was midnight by the time they got back to the Venetian.  Joe had told the pilots that wheels up would be at 11am so they could all sleep in and that they should order breakfast from room service.

By 11 the next morning they were taxing onto the runaway and a few minutes later they were in the air. “Successful trip, Joe?” asked Mac.

“Very.  All the meetings were good and only one person spotted I was wearing a disguise.”

“Hollywood guy?”

“Yep.  Called me on it immediately but he also admitted that he probably wouldn’t recognize me without it.”

“That’s good”, answered Mac  

“By the way, Mac, I’m going to need you for a couple of days in about a week.  You got anything that would get in the way?”

“No, not right now.  The next film I’m working on doesn’t start shooting for almost a month so I’m free as a bird until then.”

“Terrific.  I’ll let you know when as soon as I know.”

Mac nodded.  He liked working with Joe and Gerry and the money they paid was always good and always in cash plus the work itself was interesting.  He didn’t know where Joe came up with the rivers licenses and credit cards for each of the characters that Mac had created for him but he suspected there was a very well paid forger involved.  Not that he cared. Compared to what he did in Hollywood this work was much more interesting, not that he ever really knew what was going on.

Chapter 17 – What does it all mean?

“So what do we make of this questionnaire or application form that Hawkins has sent out?”

“We honestly have no idea”, replied the man who had been identified as DS Kyle Richardson at Gerry Hawkins’ home. His real name was Kyle Richardson but he wasn’t in the police.  Instead he was an agent with Homeland Security.  “The questions are all over the place as far as we can tell, and we’ve no idea who or what he’s looking for.  The only thing we do know is that one of our candidates received an invitation to a Zoom video call the day after tomorrow.”

“And that’s it; that’s all we know?”

“So far.  We do know that Joe Simpson took the Gulfstream and he’s been flying all over the country.”

“Where’s he been?”

“San Francisco. Atlanta, Miami and now Las Vegas.”

“What’s he been doing?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

“So he could just be on a joyride in a $40 million private jet!”

“Yes, he could.  We haven’t got any reason to put him or Gerry under constant surveillance although I do have a floating tail in Gerry but that’s a waste of time.  He hardly ever leaves his house and when he does, it’s a quick trip to the office for a couple of hours and then he’s back home again.  He’s got a private chef so rarely goes to restaurants any more.  We’ve got nothing other than our suspicious minds.”

“Can we record the Zoom session without them knowing it?”

“Only if we put a camera on the screen.  Only the host can initiate a recording session as far as I know.”

“Ok.  Let’s do that.  Who have we got on the invitation list?”

“Richie Solomon.  He retired a few years back so is old enough but he likes to keep his hand in.”

“Good guy.  Is he logging from home or here?”

“He’s coming in here.”

“Good.  Let me know how it goes.”

“What about the tail on Gerry?”

“Pull it.”

“Will do.”

“Is it time for another visit and talk with Mr. Hawkins?”

“No, I don’t think there’d be any point.  We’ll just keep a quiet eye on what he’s doing until we find out one way or another.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what leads you to believe that he’s up to something?”

The senior man leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I’m not sure.  Just a niggling feeling in my gut that he’s up to something and when people have the sort of money and influence that he does you want them to be on the straight and narrow but you don’t get to be that rich by not being ruthless.”

Chapter 18 – Preparation

It was mid-morning.  Gerry Hawkins and Joe Simpson sat in comfortable armchairs facing a roaring fire.  On the table between them were two fresh cups of coffee, a notepad and a MontBlanc fountain pen. They sat next to companionable silence while both of them drank their coffee.  Gerry finished his first, put it down on the table and picked up the pen and notepad.

“The interview session is at 2pm.  I’m not sure how many of the 25 will  turn up so it’s going to be interesting but of course the fewer that turn up, the easier it is to pick the ones I want”, said Gerry Hawkins.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?”

The number one thing is obvious intelligence.  They’ve all got to be very smart.”

“That’s not always obvious”, replied Joe.

“No, it’s not but there are certain indicators.  That’s one of the things I want you to be monitoring, Joe.  Look for the ones who sit quietly but are paying attention and listening to the others talk.  Also make a note of anybody who jumps in and interrupts while somebody else is speaking.  I’ll notice that of course but I don’t want to be writing anything done while I’m conducting the session.”

“Are you going to be on camera?  Will they know who you are?”

“Yes, I’ve decided not to play any games of subterfuge here.  I’m going to tell them who I am but what I’m not going to tell them is the specifics of what I’m looking for.”

“When will that happen?”

“When I’ve made, with your help of course, my final selections.  I was looking for 6 but now that you’ve got 7, I think I’ll settle for 5.”

“You don’t want a baker’s dozen?”

“No, I’m avoiding the unlucky 13.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious!”

“I’m not really”, replied Hawkins “but on this occasion I’m going to play it safe.”

“Fair enough.  What else are we looking out for?”

“Punctuality.  I’m opening the meeting up 10 minutes before it’s due to start.  If somebody is late, then put a line through their name.  I have no patience for people who can’t be on time.”

“That’s something the world knows, Gerry”, replied Joe.

“True, but you’re the same way, Joe.  I think it’s part of our military training.”

“Maybe but I think it’s also something that you’re born with.  What else?”

“I’d like to pick at least 2 women.”

“How about minorities?”

“We didn’t get many of those applying strangely enough.  There’s only 2, I think, in the group. I’m hiring on merit nothing else.”

“And yet you just said that you’d like to pick 2 women?”

“I would like to but they’ve also got to fit what I’m looking for.”

“Fair enough.  Is that it?”

“I think so.  I’m going to record the whole session so that we can watch it back afterwards and make notes.  Hopefully we’ll be able to pick 5.”

“And if we can’t narrow it down to 5?”

“Then I’ll set up a second session for those that we haven’t eliminated.”

“Are you planning on any compensation for those that turn up but who don’t get selected?”

“Yes.  I’m going to get each of them to set up a Venmo account, and you’ll send them $1,000 each.”

“That should come as a nice surprise”, replied Joe who wasn’t at all surprised.  He knew that Gerry was extremely generous with his money and never  took advantage of people no matter the circumstances.  It was one of the reasons that he was so loved by his employees.  “Have you informed the Board that you’re selling the group?”

“Not yet.  I have a board meeting set up for Monday when I’m going to break the news?”

“Do you think you’ll get any resistance or backlash?”

“I don’t think so.  They’ll all do exceptionally well out of it.  I’m also offering each of them a $25 million golden parachute to step down.”

“That’s quite generous.”

“Not really.  It makes sound business sense.  Even if I had to pay out $200 million for all of them stepping down, I’ll still end up with a hefty profit.”

“How much do you expect to clear?”

“Around $2 billion after taxes.”

Joe whistled.  “I didn’t realize it was going to be that much.”

“It’s a big business, Joe, but it won’t make any difference to me, will it? And before you answer, that’s a rhetorical question.”

Joe nodded.  “More coffee?”

“Yes, please, and then we need to get everything set up.”

Joe stood up, grabbed the two empty coffee cups and headed into the kitchen.

Gerry called out after him “Joe, We’re going to the club for dinner tonight.  Can you let Pete know to be ready at 7?”

“Sure.”

Chapter 19 – The Zoom Session

At 1.45pm that day, Gerry and Joe were in Gerry’s office.  It looked almost like an Apple Store with three different Macintosh computers including the latest Mac Studio with the M2 Ultra chip which had 4 of the new 32” Apple Pro Display XDR monitors connected to it.  They were state of the art technology and had cost almost $5,000 each.  The desk that held all of this equipment was enormous and needed to be.  Joe always admired the set up but 2 monitors was enough for him.  Gerry on the other hand swiveled constantly between all four with different programs running on each   The Mac Studio was also top of the line with 192Gb of unified memory and an 8TB SSD.  It was complete overkill but when you’re worth billions, spending almost $29,000 on a computer and monitors was a minor expense.

“Joe, swivel the end monitor to face you at the end of the desk.  I’ll mirror the display so you’ll be able to see and hear everything but nobody will know you are there.”

Joe did as asked. “Okay.”  A moment later his display changed so that he could see Gerry’s desktop.  Gerry then opened a new Zoom meeting and looked at his watch.  “They should start coming in in a few minutes.”

Sure enough the 1^st of the 25 invited applicants appeared asking to be admitted.  By 2pm, 10 of them had logged in, were connected to audio and were waiting for their host to start the actual meeting.  It was less than he had hoped for but 10 was a nice manageable number and he had decided that any latecomers would not be admitted.  Sure enough there were 5 but he ignored all of their requests, and within a minute or two each had disconnected.

Gerry turned on his video display so they could finally see him.  “Good afternoon”, he said “and thank you for turning up and, more importantly, being on time.  My name is Gerald Hawkins and I’m the chairman of a company called Gestalt Holdings.  Before I tell you more about why you are all here, I’d like to hear from each of you about yourself.  Additionally, I’d like to know why you answered the advertisement.  Let’s start with Don Walker. 

“I’m Don Walker, a resident of Las Vegas, Nevada where I’ve lived for the past 20 years.  I’m 68 years old and originally from Albuquerque, New Mexico, went to Berkeley University in California and got a degree in Business Studies.

After graduating, I joined the Marines and spent the next 10 years with them, rising to the rank of Marine Sergeant.  After retiring, I moved back to Albuquerque where I met my wife, Josie.  We were together 22 years; she passed away from ovarian cancer several years ago and I still miss her every day.  We didn’t have any children; she wasn’t able to and now that she’s gone I have nobody left to share my life with.

I’m a retired insurance agent and am okay financially so that’s not why I answered the advertisement.  It was the other aspects that resonated.  In truth, I don’t have anything to look forward to and I’ve often wondered if there is any point in going on.

I’m open for a challenge; something different.  I’m in good health and willing to travel.  I have a current passport.  I also speak fluent Spanish.”

“Thank you, Don and welcome. Karen.”

Karen Childress started speaking and her video feed filled the entire screen.

“I’m Karen Childress.  I’m 69 and I live in Missoula, Montana.  I’m unmarried and unattached.  I worked in Insurance for all my working life.  I’m not a very social person so I never really made any friends, at work or outside.  In the office, they called me ‘Childless’ behind my back, but I heard it one day.  It hurt, a lot.  I think I would have liked to have children, but it is what it is.  I had a sister but she died 5 years ago from cancer so I’m alone in the world.

I have a pension, a small one, from the company I worked for.  Not much to show for 45 years of loyal service.  I get by, but I don’t have much spare money after paying all my bills.  I’d like to leave Montana; I hate the winters and always have, but it costs money to move and I don’t have it.  Plus I don’t know where I’d go, or what I’d do when I got there.

I don’t really have any hobbies, other than reading which I love to do.  I occasionally watch a show on Netflix, but I’m not really a TV person.  My life is pretty dull.

Honestly, I feel like I’m just marking time and that my entire life has been a waste.  I’d like to do something now, especially if I could make a difference somehow. 

I hope I get chosen, whatever it is that’s being offered.  I’m ready.”

“Thank you, Karen. Barry?’

“I’m Barry Thomas.  I’m a retired bank manager.  Not a very glamorous, or fulfilling job.  Mostly just dealing with people at their worst who, like me now, have hit a run of bad luck and need money to move forward.

I’m divorced with no children.  My ex-wife got the house and half of my pension. She was having an affair with my best friend which means I lost my wife, my house and my friend all in one foul swoop.  They got married eventually, but it didn’t last; she probably got his house as well. Bitch!

I now live in a small one-bedroom apartment in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Santa Fe’s okay if you don’t mind the tourists, but it is expensive.  It’s cold in the winter which I don’t particularly care for.

I don’t really have any marketable skills, but I am a hard worker. I have a few friends, acquaintances really, at the social club where I go to play Bridge 3 times a week, but I’m not close to anybody.  I get lonely, but I tell myself to suck it up.

I replied to the ad out of some desperation.  My life is miserable, to be perfectly honest and I need to do something different, challenging even, in order to give it any meaning. I hope I get accepted.”

“Thanks, Barry. Bob.”

Bob Smith was one of the only two African American who’d applied and turned up.  He began speaking.

“I’m Bob Smith.  I’m 66 and I live in Burbank, California where a lot of movie studios are.  I worked for Warner Bros. for 36 years, creating database programs to keep track of different things that the studio used; props, scenes, actors.  This was all done in FileMaker™ Pro and I guess you could say I’m an expert.

I like to bowl, play chess, read and watch movies.  I was married but my wife died suddenly a year ago from an aneurysm.  She just dropped dead while we were having dinner.  I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.  We never had any children; neither of us wanted them, but I sometimes think it would be nice to have one or two and maybe some grandkids.

I keep in touch with a couple of people from work, but I don’t have any really close friends.  I’m pretty cerebral and spent a lot of time in my own head, lost in thought.  I am working on developing a universal application for the studios; it might make me some money when it’s finished, but then again it might now.  Still, I’m going to keep plugging away.

I’m pretty fit and healthy.  I’m ready for a challenge, for something different, which is why I replied to the advertisement.  I know its probably a con and its unlikely I would get chosen, but who knows!”

“Thanks, Bob.  I’m more than a little familiar with FileMaker myself.  Perhaps we could chat about it after the meeting if you wouldn’t mind mind staying online?”

“Sure.  Happy to.  It’s a great program and I love it.”

“Great. Joe.”

Joe Phillips was the other African American.

I’m Joe Phillips.  I’m 70 years old from Detroit and I worked for General Motors on the assembly line, mostly putting together the big SUVs.  I really don’t know why people drive those things, but I made pretty good living doing so.

It was a union job. We did okay and my pension’s fine.  Unfortunately, I’ve got a bit of a bad habit; horse racing.  I’m really good at picking losers!  In fact, everybody at the track watches to see who I’m betting on and they immediately do the opposite.

I ain’t married, never was.  Not sure that anybody would put up with me.  No kids, never wanted them either.  Got a few friends, none of them I’d call close, but we meet up at the track and have a few beers afterwards.

When I’m at home, I play a lot of online chess.  I’ve got a decent rating.  Nowhere near Grandmaster level, but higher than most.  I really like chess; it’s a fantastic game.  I don’t go to a club; I probably would if there was one near me, but the nearest one is 20 miles away and it’s too far, plus I can play any time on the computer and I don’t have to talk to anybody.

Why did I reply to the advertisement? The money, if I’m honest.  I could use a chunk of money.  I’d probably lose it all at the track, but you know what they say. “You only live once.”  The kids say ‘YOLO’ which I think is kinda funny.”

“Thanks for sharing, Joe.  I’m also a bit of a chess player. Steve.”

“I’m Steve Richards from Hollywood.  I started off as a stuntman, but got badly injured when a stunt went bad, so switched to being a character actor on TV and appeared in lots of TV commercials.  You know the ones where they needed a rugged type of man; the type of man who looks good on a horse or smoking a cigarette.  I never made it big; the TV parts I got were steady and they paid decent money, but I didn’t have any breakout roles; just one of the bit players.

I’m still working, but I don’t get many roles these days.  Maybe two or three times a month I get a call and go in for a few hours.  Decent paying gigs which help to supplement my meagre pension, but nothing of any consequence.  I do like doing them though; there’s a camaraderie on a set among the actors, but you don’t make close friends in this business.

I was married twice; it didn’t work out both times and it’s been 25 years since my second divorce.  One son, but he lives the other side of the country and we’re not close. I keep to myself most of the time.  I started writing my memoirs, but I don’t know who’d be interested in reading them. Maybe I’ll finish them, maybe I won’t.

Hobbies? No, not really.  I watch a lot of TV; mostly British murder mysteries.  The Brits do that so well.  Once in a while I find a show that I was in and I watch it again, out of nostalgia mostly.

When I saw the advertisement, I decided to apply because I’ve got nothing to lose.  I’m very fit and healthy and I like to travel, especially if somebody else is paying for it.”

“Thank, Steve. Brian.”

“I’m Brian Arness, a retired accountant from Boston where I’ve lived all my life.  I was born and grew up, on the South Side.  I went to college there, then joined the Army.  I went to Kuwait for Operation Desert Storm.  I’m lucky to have survived that debacle, but the memories haunt my dreams and I often wake up from terrible nightmares of that place.

After the war ended, I went back to school and got my MBA.  I like numbers, I like playing with them and seeing patterns.  I worked for an accounting firm, mostly doing tax preparation.  It’s pretty boring work, but it suited me.

Married, divorced, two children.  Unfortunately, I’m estranged from both of them.  It’s a long story, but when I got divorced, they blamed me for it and cut me out of their lives.  I’ve got 3 grandchildren who I’ve never seen and am never likely to.  I wish things were different and that I was part of all their lives, but it’s been 10 years now.

I get by with my pension and some savings, but it’s not easy and I can’t afford to go away on vacation, not that I’d know where to go, or what to do.

I’m not sure why I replied to the advertisement.  I’m not very adventurous which is probably why I became an accountant.  There’s part of me that wants something different, but I really don’t know what that means.  Maybe this opportunity will result in that!”

Thanks, Brian.  Daphne.”

“I’m Daphne Stevenson from Tampa, Florida.  I’ve lived here for 35 years and I still hate the summers; the high humidity wipes me out, but I can’t afford to leave.  

I’m a spinster; what a terrible word that is, so I’m used to being alone.  I’ve had the odd relationship, but none of them lasted and to be honest, I think I’m better off on my own. Obviously, or maybe not, I never had any children and I don’t have any regrets about that.  I don’t have any maternal instincts and never have.

I was a secretary all of my life; I’m a whiz on a typewriter and I’m very good at taking shorthand which I studied in college.  My last job was as a private secretary which I liked a lot.  I had a great boss and we got on really well, but we’ve lost touch now that we’re both retired.

I guess you could say that I’m not terribly ambitious.  I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I was quite content with a simple life.  I like knitting and am a member of a knitting club here in Tampa.  We meet once a week to knit, have coffee and chat, but none of the people there are, what you’d call, close friends.

Why did I reply to the advertisement? I’m not sure why is the answer.  Perhaps, it just sounded completely different from my life as it is now. We’ll see.  I’d say the chance of me being chosen are pretty slim, but somebody has to be.  Maybe it will be me.”

“Thanks, Daphne. David, you’re next.”

“I’m David Hartley, a machinist by trade.  It’s a highly skilled profession and I was pretty good at it, even if I do say so myself.

I’m divorced now.  I got married when I was quite young at 18, way too young to be a husband and be responsible for someone else.  We had a kid, a boy, Jason, but he was killed in a hit-and-run accident when he was 7.  He was playing in the road outside our house, as he always did and a car came through driving way too fast.  He never stood a chance. 

They caught the driver; a neighbor thought fast enough and got the plate number.  He went to prison for 20 years, but it didn’t bring Jason back.  The grief destroyed our lives and our marriage.  Janie moved away after the divorce and we lost touch; not that there’s any reason to do so.  Life goes on.

I never re-married.  Never wanted to and I have no regrets about that.  I think about Jason sometimes; how he might have grown up, what he might have become, but it’s all wishful thinking, pointless and a waste of time.

I go to my local bar and have a couple of drinks most nights.  I chat to the other regulars, but we never socialize outside of the bar.  I don’t really have any friends, or any hobbies, but I do like to settle down with a good book.  I like thrillers.  In fact I’ve just finished the best thriller I’ve ever read. ‘I am Pilgrim’ by Terry Hayes.  It’s an incredible story.  His second book ‘The Year of the Locust’ came out a while back, but I haven’t read it yet.  I’m going to though.

I replied to the advertisement just because.  I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Thanks, David.  ‘I am Pilgrim’’s on my bedside table.  It’s the next book I’m going to read.  Everybody tells m that it’s incredible.”

“It is.  You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will”, replied Gerry. “Doug.”

Doug Carmody was the last of the 10. “I’m Doug Carmody.  I sold shoes for a living, for a fairly high end shoe store which meant I wore a suit to work, had impeccable manners and was really good at persuading people to drop a thousand dollars or more on a pair of shoes.  Most of our customers were men, executives with a  lot of disposable income, so perhaps I didn’t need to be as persuasive, but once a salesman, always a salesmen.

Married twice, divorced twice.  I’ve been single now for 20 years and that’ll never change. I have lady friends.  In fact I had one for 15 years, but she wanted to get married and I didn’t, so that was the end of that.  Oh well.  No kids; that I don’t regret.  Most of the ones I see around seem to be self-entitled and badly behaved.

I go to the gym three times a week and work out pretty seriously and I like to run.  You’d never guess that looking at my body shape, but I do. I even ran a marathon once, but I’ll never do that again.  I hurt for weeks after it.  That’s just too much punishment for the human body to take.

I like movies, but I don’t like going to the theatre.  Too many people and popcorn, which I hate the smell of.  I’ve got a big screen TV at home.  The prices finally got low enough that I could justify the expense and I’m really glad I spent the money, although I probably shouldn’t have.  I get by financially, but I have to be careful and I only go out to eat a couple of times a month.

When I saw the advertisement, I thought ‘Now this is something different!’, so I took a chance and replied to it.  I’m probably not going to get accepted, but I certainly qualify based on the description.”

“Thanks everybody.  Now let me tell you a little about myself; if you want to know more, you can Google me or Gestalt Holdings. To start with, each of you are going to be sent $1,000 just for turning up today.  I’m looking for 5 people; the 5 who don’t get selected will each receive an additional $1,000.  About me.  I’m a very successful businessman with many different interests and companies.  I’m looking for people to work in one of those companies on a number of exciting projects.  I don’t want smart ass youngsters who think they know it all; I want people who’ve been around the block, have a wealth of experience and who society has put on the back burner just because of their age.  Does anybody have any questions?  Raise your hand if you do.”

Several hands went up immediately.  “Yes, Don?”

Don Walker cleared his throat before speaking. “What does the job entail, exactly.”

“That’s a very good question which I’m not going to answer at this time.  The exact nature of the job will be revealed to the 5 who are selected but I will tell you this.  Each of the 5 will receive $9,500 on selection.  They will have to move to California where they’ll be working out of and they will receive a net salary, after taxes, of $75,000 a year.  They will be provided with their own house on my estate, and will have a company car.  They will also have an expense account so should be able to save most of their salary.  The work will be interesting, completely legal and above board and the only condition of employment is that you don’t talk to people outside of the group about what you are doing.  That is grounds for instant termination.  I hope that’s quite clear?’

Everybody nodded in agreement.  Gerry noticed that Joe Phillips was more reticent than the others. “Joe”, he said “You seem to be, shall I say, somewhat suspicious.”

“To be honest, I am”, he replied.  “What you’re offering is a fortune to most people.  How can you do that?”

“Hmm”, said Gerry.  “If you Googled me, it would tell you that I’m a billionaire many times over.  What I’m offering is an insignificant amount but it is sufficient to get the type of people I want to work with me.  Does that make sense?”

“When you put it that way, absolutely” replied Joe Phillips, now looking decidedly interested.

“Now I’m going to ask a few questions of the group. I’d like to have everybody answer them but in an orderly manner so please don’t interrupt or jump in until you are called on.  The first question is how do you think the US is doing under the Biden administration?  Now before you answer, I don’t want to hear partisan comments.  I want actual considered answers.”

He went around the group, listening intently to the answers.  Two of them said they thought that Biden was too old to which he replied “Aren’t we all in this meeting?  I’m 72.  I don’t feel old or past it.”  There was a chorus of agreement.

“Next question.  What do you think of the state of politics in this country?  Why is there always resistance to what the other side wants to do?

Don Walker was the 1^st to speak up.  “It’s total gridlock.  Nobody’s willing to listen to the other side or compromise.  Ideology is everything and both sides regard the other as the enemy instead of working together for the country which is what they were elected to do.”

“That’s a good point”, answered Gerry.  “Show of hands, who agrees with Don?”  All the hands went up. “Ok, who believes that term limits should be implemented so that any Senator or Congressman can only serve two terms same as the President?”  Again, every hand went up immediately. “Moving on from politics, what would each of you do about the homeless?”

This time, Brian Arness answered.  “The States should set up places for them to be housed and looked after.  Not everybody who’s on the street would move in but enough would; those that are there due to bad luck and not the addicts.”

Karen Childress raised her hand.  “Yes,  Karen”, said Gerry.

“The problem with that is who pays for it?”

“That’s a good point.  Who’s got an idea how to do that?”

Steve Richards raised his hand.  “Yes, Steve.”

“I think the money is already being spent on them but in the wrong way.  Instead of law enforcement, and providing emergency services, use the money that is budgeted for that, and get them off the streets.  It would cut down on a lot of petty crime.  The US is the richest company in the world.  It ought to be able to do something.”

The conversation continued for another 30 minutes before Gerry decided it was enough for the day.  “Well, I’d like to thank all of you for turning up today and for your time.  I’m now going to give serious consideration as to the 5 that I want.  I’d like each of you to make a note of the email address that I’ve put in the chat.  Please email me with your Venmo account details or PayPal if you don’t use Venmo.  I’d also like you to write a short paragraph saying why you think you are a good candidate for this position.  Bob, I’d definitely like to talk to you about FileMaker but I’ve run out of time today.  Perhaps we can do it another time?”

“Any time.  You know how to get hold of me.”

“I do”, replied Gerry and ended the meeting.  “Well, what do you think, Joe?”

“I think you’ve got some good candidates.  You’re going to find it hard to whittle it down to five.”

Chapter 20 – Reviewing the Candidates

The next morning after drinking their 1^st cup of coffee and glancing at the morning newspapers, Gerry and Joe sat down in his office and watched the recording of the Zoom session the previous day.  As they did so, they made their own set of notes on each of the candidates.

“Any outright rejections?”, asked Gerry.

“Daphne Stevenson, I think.”

“Yes, I agree with you about her.”  Gerry scratched her name off the list.  “Anybody else?”

“Joe Phillips.  He didn’t seem too sharp to me.”

“Again I agree with you.”  Joe’s name was struck through. “Any more?”

“No.  I like the rest of them.”

“Would you disagree with me on occasion?”

“Only when you’re wrong”, replied Joe.

Gerry snorted with amusement.  “So we’ve got 8.  Who do you like best?”

“That’s tricker.  I’m not sure you and I are going to agree on this.”

“Let’s do this, Joe.  You write them down in the order you like them and I’ll do that same.  Then let’s compare and see how close we are.”

“Okay.”

Five minutes later they had each come up with their own list of favorites which they compared.  Both lists were almost identical with Don Walker at the top and Brian Arness at the bottom.  Joe had listed Karen Childress as his #2 pick but Gerry had Steve Richards.

“I told you it was going to be tough to whittle it down to 5, Gerry.”

“You did.  Oh, screw it.  I’m going to take all 8.  The extra cost isn’t a factor.  What do you think?  After all they are all going to be working under you.”

“Works for me.  I think they’ll be a good team.”

“It won’t be too much to manage?”

“No”, answered Joe.  “What about housing?”

“I promised each of them their own house and have already bought 5 in preparation.  I’ll call the agent and tell him I need 3 more.”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“That’s a great idea, Joe.”

“Which account do you want to use?”

“The general household one.  At this point, it’s not really worth worrying about.”

“Consider it done.  I’ll call in a few minutes and set it up.  I’ll need to take a look at each of them before I say Yes but that shouldn’t take too long.”

“You can do that while I’m at the Board Meeting.”

“That’ll work.”

“There is one thing that we haven’t discussed which is do we care if one of them isn’t legitimate?”

“I don’t think we need to worry about it.  If so, I suspect that they’ll pull out pretty quickly once they realize what we’re doing.”

“Probably right.”

“I’m going to get ready.  Ask Bill to bring the car round at 1.  I’m going to have lunch at the golf club before going to the office.”

“Will do.”

Chapter 21 – Selling Out

All of the Board members were seated when Gerry strode into the conference room.  Taking his seat at the head of the table he said without any warning “Gestalt has been sold to a Japanese consortium.”

The Board erupted with a chorus of angry voices talking over one another trying to be heard.  It reminded Gerry of dinner in a restaurant full of Spaniards all talking louder than the other but with none of them listening to what another was saying.

After a minute of this, he spoke in a loud voice that cut through the chatter. “May I be heard?”

Everybody in the room immediately looked at him and you could have cut the silence with a knife, it was so still.

“The Japanese are paying a $10 premium over the current share price which means you are all incredibly, unbelievably rich if you decide to sell your shares..  Additionally, if any of you choose to resign your seat, and I encourage all of you to do so, you will receive an ex gratia payment of $25 million. Who would like to resign?”

There was a brief delay while everybody thought about the offer they had just been given.  Andrew Coppe was the first to speak. “Gerry, that’s an extraordinary offer and I’m pretty sure all of us will accept it but may I ask a question?”

“Yes, of course Andrew.”

“Why?  The business is immensely profitable.  You’ve just recently implemented some significant changes in our operations which we’re already seeing the benefits of.  Why sell now?”

“I’m dying, Andrew.  I have terminal lung cancer and I have maybe 6 months to live.  I decided to make a clean break from everything and that means selling out.  It’s a quick sale.  They’re forgoing months of due diligence and it’s a cash deal.  It gets me out, it gets all of you out, and the company will continue but not under my auspices.”

Everybody at the table was shocked but Gerry noticed there was no sadness on anybody’s face except on Martin, his assistant.  Martin had been with hm for some 15 years and had always been loyal but Gerry hadn’t realized how close he had become.  He made a note to himself to speak to Martin after the meeting.

After the chorus of ‘I’m sorries’ had ended, he spoke again.  “So who would like to resign their seat at the Board.  Please raise your hand.”

Every hand went up. “Good.  I hope that each of you will make yourself available to the new Board if they want any counsel.  Other than that, you have 18 days before they take over.  It’s a completely English speaking takeover team so there won’t be any difficulty in communication.  All operational staff are being retained and I’ve made it very clear as well as a condition that they make no changes to the way the business operates for a period of 2 years.  I told them that they need to see how well it operates before they change things and quite possibly ruin it.  But after all is said and done, if they decide to run it into the ground, it’s their decision and I won’t be around to see it.”

He took a deep breath as a wave of agonizing pain hit him.  After it had passed, he continued speaking. “I would ask that you do not reveal my illness to anybody.  Just say that I’ve decided to retire and sold out.  Once the takeover has been completed, the Street won’t worry and life will go on.  Not mine though” he added with a wry smile.  “Thanks everybody.  Enjoy your retirement.”

Gerry got up from his seat and left the conference room.  Behind him he could hear quiet conversation and he smiled.  He’d dropped a bombshell that morning and it would take a while for the dust to clear.

Back in his office, he motioned for Martin to take a seat. “Martin, please arrange a transfer of $25 million to each of the Board members.”

“Yes, sir.  Which account do you want me to use?”

“My personal one.”

Martin looked at him with surprise etched on his face.  “But I thought you said the Japanese were making the payment?”

“Well”, answered Gerry. “That was a slight exaggeration.  I wanted them all to accept the offer without hesitation and figured that $25 million was enough for them to do so.  It’s not going to bankrupt me, is it?”

“No, sir, it’s not”, agreed Martin.

“There is one additional $25 million transfer that I want you to make, Martin.”

“Of course.  Who is this to?”

“To you, Martin.  You’ve been an exemplary assistant for a very long time and you deserve the same as the others albeit you’ve actually earned it.”

Martin Williams was visibly shocked and started to stammer “but, but …”

“No buts, Martin.  I’m happy to be able to do it.  What will you do now that you’re rich?”

Martin thought for a minute. “I think I’m going to leave the US.”

“Where do you have in mind?”

“Paris “ , he said.  “Every time I’ve gone there with you, I’ve loved it and it has always been Janice’s favorite city.  I love your apartment on the Champs Elysee also.  I don’t suppose I’d be able to afford to buy it from you and still have enough money left to live there on?”, he asked not really expecting anything other than a wry smile.

“You could, if it was for sale”, replied Gerry, smiling inwardly. “I’ve left it to someone close to me in my will.”

“Would they sell it to me?”

“Well it is rather hard to sell something to yourself.”

“What?”, asked Martin as the news that he was inheriting the apartment on top of the $25 million bonus sunk in.

“I think you heard.  I’m leaving it to you, Martin.  I know how much you love it and I had an inkling that you might choose to live there.  After all you and Janice speak fluent French and why wouldn’t you live there if you had enough money to do so. You also won’t have to pay any taxes or maintenance on the property; that’s all taken care of in perpetuity.”

“Oh, my god.  That’s unbelievable.”

“No, you deserve it and it’ll make me happy thinking that when I go wherever I’m going; that is if I’m able to do so.”

“Well, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and Janice’s too.  She’s going to … Well I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

“My advice.  Take her to Paris for a week’s vacation.  Travel first class on your company card, stay in the apartment, and break the news to her there.  In fact, stay longer.  I don’t need you to be here anymore.”  Gerry rose and extended his hand.  Martin took it and they shook warmly.  “Good luck to you and Janice, Martin.  I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“Thank you, sir..  Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.  Now, go and make those transfers and then get out of here.”

“Yes, sir.  Right away.”

Martin left Gerry’s office to return to his own and carry out his last set of instructions.  He could hardly wait to tell Janice they were going to Paris.  He’d tell her it was on company business which wasn’t exactly untrue and he would break the unbelievable news to her when they were in the apartment.  What an absolutely incredible, unbelievable day it had been.

Chapter 22 – Alexander Munroe

Alexander Munroe was of Scottish descent and could be very tetchy especially when anybody tried to call him Alex.  He was Alexander to everybody who knew him and nobody would ever dare to call him Alex more than once.  He had served with Gerry and Jim and had maintained close ties with them since leaving the military.

To people who didn’t know him well, he came across as batshit crazy.  He always had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other and would wax lyrical on any subject but he didn’t suffer fools gladly and would occasionally use his superior intellect to belittle them.  This had lead on more than one occasion to a fight breaking out when some ‘idiot took exception’ as Alexander put it.  The ‘idiots’ in question always regretted it.

The ‘batshit crazy’ persona was a creation Alexander had come up with to diffuse or hide his exceptional brain.  He had graduated Magna cum Laude from Harvard and had multiple degrees to his name.  His genius though was in planning and logistics and that talent had been recognized very early on by the CIA.  Before he had left the military he had already been recruited by the Agency and had planned multiple successful infiltration operations in diverse areas.  Most of these operations had been to take out high value targets that drones had been unable to take out due to them surrounding themselves with women and children as ‘human shields’.

Alexander was also a polyglot and spoke 14 different languages fluently; he was semi fluent in a dozen more..  He could listen to somebody speaking a new language and immediately comprehend nuances in that language that would take others years to master.  From there, he would grab a book on that language, learn a massive amount of vocabulary, and then listen some more to native speakers.  From there his remarkable brain would extrapolate everything that he had learned and heard and within a very short period of time he would be speaking the language as easily as most people spoke their own.  This skill was really what the CIA prized him for as he could listen in to audio recordings, understand what was being said and use that knowledge to plan an operation to take the target or targets out.

After retiring from the CIA, he had turned his skills to fund raising for a number of different worthwhile organizations and had been very successful in doing so.  He had written three best selling crime novels, all of them under the pseudonym of Richard Head which privately amused him greatly.

He had also helped Gerry with strategic planning for Gerry’s businesses and had proved remarkably adept in that endeavor.  It was he who had recommended that Gerry get rid of all the PCs at Gestalt and replace them with iMacs.  He was a natural choice for the next part of Gerry and Joe’s plans.  When they had explained to him what they were planning he had loved the idea and had readily agreed to be part of it.  It was him that the team who Joe had recruited would be working under and who they would see in their time at the Farm.  Alexander had suggested bringing in another person to the operation, a young man named Damian who was like a second son to Alexander but both Gerry and Joe had nixed the idea, albeit temporarily.  There might come a time when they would need Damian but that time was not now.

Chapter 23 – Bringing Everybody In

Having selected the 8, Gerry sent each of them an email asking them to fly into LA for a meeting.  He didn’t tell them they had already been selected; just that he wanted them to come in for a face-to-face meeting. Included with the email was a round trip airline ticket from their closest airport and a hotel reservation.  He instructed them to take a taxi to the hotel and to keep the receipt so they could be reimbursed.  The meeting would take place the following day at Gerry’s home and cars would pick them all up at 11am that morning to take them the short distance to where Gerry lived.  He had also made reservations at a restaurant for a party of 8 so that they could meet and get to know each other.  He hoped there wouldn’t be be any friction among them as if there was he would have to eliminate somebody from the group.  What he wanted was a cohesive group who could work together closely.

As each person checked into their room at the hotel, the duty manager made a short call to let Joe know who had checked in.  By 5pm, all 8 had arrived and were settled in.  Joe went to find Gerry who was at his computer.  “They’re all checked in, Gerry.”

“Good.  Everything is set up with the restaurant?”

“Yes, it’s a 5 minute walk from the hotel and they’ve all been given instructions to meet at the restaurant. The table is booked under my name, and I’ve left a credit card to pay for it all.  I might have to go down and sign the slip but I doubt it.”

“What do you think about going down and joining them?”

“Me, or you, or both of us?”, asked Joe.

“You, I think”, replied Gerry.

“I thought you wanted them to get to know one another?”

“I do, but I’m wondering if it might be better if you were there.   You’d be able to recognize any tension, and more importantly let me know if we need to send somebody home.”

“Sure.  I can do that.”  He picked up the phone, called the restaurant and changed the reservation to 9 people. “Done.”

“I also need you to pick out the person who’s going to be the team leader.  I think it’ll be Don Walker but it will be your decision.”

“I agree that, on the surface, Don looks the best choice but I’ll give each of them careful consideration.”

“Good.  I also want you to tell me if you sense there’s anything off with any of them?”

“You mean an infiltrator?”

“I do.  We have always known that Homeland might try and get somebody inside.”

“True, but do we care?”

“Not really but I would like to know so we can keep an eye on them.”

“Will do.”

“What’s happening with your group?”

“They’re arriving next week.  They’re each going to make their own way to the Farm.  Alexander is already there setting things up and planning a training regimen.”

“God help them”, said Gerry, laughing.

“I think they’re all in pretty good shape so I doubt that any of them will have too much difficulty.”

“I agree, but the main idea is to identify anybody who doesn’t fit in.  I’m a little concerned that we might have one or two who are too angry with the way their life has turned out.”

“I don’t think so.  I didn’t get that sense from any of them.  I think they’re all a little frustrated and directionless, but I don’t see anger.”

“Well, you’re the best judge of character I know.  Next to me, of course”, he added.

Joe laughed.  There was a great deal of sadness in his heart about Gerry’s illness and he was going to miss him greatly but he had to put all of those feelings aside.  What they were doing was too important to be distracted from.  Grief would come in due course.

Dinner that night was a convivial affair.  Everybody seemed excited to be there and the freely flowing wine helped to relax everyone.  At 10.30, Joe cleared his throat “Well, thanks everybody for coming.  As you know you’ll be picked up at 11 and the meeting starts at 11.30.  I recommend that you all get a good nights sleep so you don’t have to deal with exhaustion and or a hangover tomorrow.  It’s a big day.”

Everybody murmured their thanks and the table emptied.  Joe got the check, added a substantial tip and left.  Bill was waiting outside in the Mercedes to drive him home.  It was nice not to have to worry about drinking and driving.  As usual, Joe sat in the front and chatted with Bill on the short ride home.  Walking into the house, he found Gerry sitting in the kitchen reading.  He had a glass of brandy in his free hand.

“How did dinner go?”

“Great.  No tension.  Everybody seemed to get one with everybody else.  They’re actually a pretty good bunch and I think they’ll be assets.”

“Any sense of what we talked about?”

“No, none”, he replied.  “If there is an infiltrator, they’re pretty damn good at being undercover.”

“Well, it’s not exactly like they’re trying to infiltrate the cartel, is it?”

“True, but undercover work is undercover work no matter how dangerous the operation.”

“Do you want to join me in a brandy, Joe?”

“Thanks, but not tonight, Gerry.  I’m fairly beat and am going to turn in.  See you in the morning.”

“Night, Joe.”

Chapter 24 – The Briefing

By 11.30, the 8 selected applicants along with Gerry and Joe were seated in Gerry’s large living room.  There were plenty of comfortable chairs and sofas so everybody fit in without feeling the slightest bit cramped.  A coffee urn had been set up on a table in the corner and almost everybody had a cup in their hands.  Gerry tapped the coffee table with his spoon to get everybody’s attention.

“Thank you all for coming” , he started.  “Today Joe and I are going to tell you what you’ve actually applied for.  I’m sure you each have ideas but I’ll be very surprised if you actually get anywhere close to what we have in mind. As I mentioned in the Zoom conference, this is a legitimate opportunity and everything is above board and completely legal.  Now, what you’ll be doing is going to ruffle some feathers but that’s not something any of you need to worry about.  But before I get into the details, there are some housekeeping issues that Joe is going to go over.  Go ahead, Joe.”

Joe cleared his throat. “Right.  The first thing I have to tell you is that all of you have been selected; not just the 5 that we said we were looking for. That was not a lie.  We were actually looking for just 5 people but Gerry and I agreed that we couldn’t agree on who would make up the 5 so Gerry decided to accept all of you.  Congratulations.”

There was a murmur of excitement when he had finished speaking.  “The next thing is that we’ve already purchased the extra 3 houses.  They are all within a 10 minute drive of here.  They are not all identical in layout but are very similar in size.  Each house has cost around a million dollars. Only one of them is furnished right now and we’re going to take a look at it after lunch.  Each of you will be able to furnish your house as you would like it.  We have a corporate account at a big furniture depot nearby so you can go and pick out what you want, and move in as soon as it is delivered.  While that is happening you’ll be free to either return home and pack what you need or you can stay at the hotel.  It’s completely up to you.  Gerry actually owns the hotel so there won’t be any charges for rooms or meals at its restaurant.  You’ll also have a $100 per day per diem for any meals out that you want to have.  As to the house that is furnished, I’m hoping that one of you will like it enough to take it as it is so if you do, please let me know.  Does anybody have any questions?”

Nobody did.  They all felt that they had won the lottery and couldn’t wait to hear what they’d be doing in exchange.  “Good”, continued Joe.  “Gerry is now going to explain what is we want you to do. Gerry.”

“You probably don’t know”, he started “But I have a SuperPac called Feet to the Fire. You probably haven’t heard of it but you might have seen the work it does.  In simple terms we keep any eye out for politicians who misbehave.  Now that could cover a multitude of sins but basically it is when they get caught doing something that they shouldn’t or which is not in the general public’s interests.  As you probably already know, most politicians these days are fairly corrupt in that they are only interested in lining their own pockets. A lot of them are also really stupid people and it’s a wonder they could get a job as a dog catcher let alone become a member of Congress.  Feet to the Fire takes those people to task.  We publicize their sins and we keep doing so until they change their behavior or are drummed out of office.  George Santos was one of those people.  We held his feet to the fire and he’s no longer a member of Congress. We aim to do that to every politician who steps out of line.”

“What sorts of things does Feet to the Fire do?”, asked Don Walker.

“We run both TV and print ads; we get stories placed in certain newspapers, mostly the ones that I own”, said Gerry, “but sometimes other markets.  We get the TV stations to run with the stories on the basis that we’re doing ad spends along with the stories being featured. We keep the pressure on until they can’t bear it and their name is mud. Sometimes, if the pressure we are putting on isn’t enough, we will pick and fund somebody to run for election against them. So that’s what we do.  As for what we want you to do it’s very simple.  We want you to be the team investigating the bad behaviors and recommending to Joe, who runs Feet to the Fire if we should initiate a campaign.  If we do, then you’ll be involved in creating that campaign and seeing it through.  We’ve got a top notch team of designers and videographers but they’ll be working under your direction.”

“Do you fund all of this?” asked Doug Carmody.

“I do.  Currently Feet to the Fire has an annual operating budget of $30 million and I’ve added additional money as needed.  However that is about to change.  You won’t have heard this yet but I’ve just sold my company to the Japanese.  The profit I’ve made on this deal is going straight to fund Feet to the Fire for the foreseeable future.”

“If you don’t mind me asking”, said Don Walker.  “How much are we talking about?”

“Two billion dollars.”

There was a low whistle as each of the 8 took in the enormity of what they had just heard.  “Most of that money”, continued Gerry “will be in interest bearing accounts and the interest should be sufficient to fund all campaigns.  However Joe has the authority to withdraw from those accounts if he needs to.  Does anybody have any questions?”

“So we report to Joe?” , asked Don.

“Not exactly, Don.  You’ll be reporting to Joe and the others will be working under your direction.  However, and I cannot stress this enough, you are all a team and you need to work together as such.  Nobody is more important than anybody else.  If you can all work together as a team, you will accomplish a lot and with this job that means you’re, eventually, going to be responsible for cleaning up Congress.  We’re going to make sure that they know we’re out there watching over them and that we can’t be bought off.”

“Are we going after Democrats or Republicans?, asked Karen Childress?

“We’re going after any politicians who misbehave.  We don’t care what their party affiliation is.”

Joe spoke up. “One thing that is very important is that we are never going to do any lobbying to the people we help.  If we choose somebody to run it is made very clear to them that we will never call in any favors.  And I should add that lobbyists and lobbying firms are legitimate targets for Feet to the Fire.  They play dirty and we make sure that everybody hears about it.”

“If anybody has any moral or philosophical objections to this operation, you are welcome to leave.  If you do, you will get a $50,000 payment in thanks for your time and consideration.”

Karen raised her hand to speak.  “Yes, Karen.”

“I think what you’re doing is admirable and I’m in for sure but may I ask you what your motivation is to do all this.  You’re laying out several million just to bring the 8 of us on board and all of us had resigned ourselves to just living out our lives without much to look forward to. Why are you doing this?”

“That’s a good question, Karen.  Honestly I’m sick of the dysfunction of the political parties.  The partisanship, the corruption, the stupidity, all of it offends me to my core.  Government is meant to serve the people but it doesn’t.  It serves those who are supposed to be serving others and I’ve had enough of it.  I aim to make a difference and I have the money to do so.”

The room erupted in spontaneous applause.  Tears came unbidden to Gerry’s eyes.  Hoping that nobody had noticed, he turned away towards the coffee machine and quickly wiped his eyes.  Filling his cup with coffee that he wasn’t going to drink, he turned back to the room.  “Let’s have lunch.  We’ve got a barbecue set up out on the terrace.  Follow me.”

Chapter 25 – Lunch at Gerry’s

After they had all helped themselves to food from the grill and salad, they all sat around  the table.

“Gerry”, said Steve Richards.  “You explained your motivation with Feet to the Fire but I have a couple of other questions if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.  Steve. Go ahead.”

“In the ad, it said this was a high risk, high reward opportunity. The reward is certainly high but I don’t see where the risk comes in.”

“Ah”, answered Gerry.  That’s a very perceptive question and I wondered when somebody would ask it.  Haven’t you all taken a risk, a big one firstly by answering the ad and then by coming here?”

There were murmurs of agreement around the table and Gerry continued.  “I put that in the ad to discourage those that weren’t willing to take any risk.  Now you might be surprised to know that I received more than one thousand replies to the ad which showed me that there were many more unhappy people who fit the criteria I laid out than  I would ever have guessed.  By the way when I use the word unhappy, I don’t mean chronically depressed; I just mean dissatisfied with their lives.”

“How did you manage to get down to the small number that you had in the online meeting?”, asked Brian Arness.

“It wasn’t easy, Brian.  I had to first set a cut off date of age, and eliminate all those who were over 70.  That was a hard decision but it had to be done, and then I systematically eliminated others.  There were a lot who never responded back to the 1^st request for a photo and people kept dropping out.  Even the meeting that we all had, 25 people were invited and yet only 10 actually turned up.  Well, that’s not exactly true.  There were 5 people who turned up late which I won’t tolerate and they weren’t admitted.  Joe and I eliminated 2 of the 10 just because we didn’t feel that they would contribute anything to the team and here we are; the 8 of you.”

Karen asked “I still don’t  understand why you were looking for people like us, retired old folks? Not that I’m complaining but wouldn’t you be better off with young people who have lots of stamina and can work hard, much harder than we’ll be able to?”

“Well you might be right but what I’ve found in my businesses is that while the young have lots of energy, they spend most of it on enjoying themselves. Their work ethic is rarely what your generation has, and their attitudes aren’t always the best. And, as an old fogey myself, I felt that this opportunity would bring out some really talented and dedicated people and I think it has.  Joe agrees with me, don’t you, Joe?”

Joe finished his mouthful before replying.  “I do.  I think you’re going to all be a great asset to Feet.”

“But the expense of doing this is colossal”, piped up Doug Carmody.

“Yes and no.  It is a lot of money but it isn’t to me.  I’ve spent around $9 million on your houses but they’re all good investments and I’ll be able to sell them all at a profit if and when you leave.  By the way, I hadn’t mentioned this before but if you stay with Feet for 2 years, those houses are yours to live in for the rest of your lives.  If after that you decide that you want to relocate to somewhere else, I will have you relocated at my expense and you’ll be able to pick the house you want to live in which I’ll then buy.  I’ll pay for that by selling the house here.  If there is any additional profit after paying for the other house, that profit will be deposited into your bank account.”

“That’s incredibly generous”, said Doug Carmody.

“I don’t think of it that way, Doug.  I’m making a small investment in all of you and I believe it’s worth it.  Anyway, let’s move onto another subject.  Who owns their own house back where you come from?”

4 hands shot up.  “It’s up to you what you do but if you feel that you’re going to stay with Feet for at least 2 years, then I would put those houses on the market and sell them.  Presumably you’ll have some equity in them.  Or you could rent them out which is also a viable idea but it isn’t easy being an absent landlord so you would need to hire an agency to handle things and they take about 10% of the rent which is something to consider.  Joe will organize movers to pack your houses up and bring everything here, or you can go back yourself and decide what you want to bring.  In either case I’ll be covering your moving costs.  The same goes for those who are renting.”

”When do we start working?”

“I’d like everybody settled and ready to jump in on the 1^st of next month which is 28 days from now.  That should give you enough time to take care of loose ends.  This week, after you’ve picked out the furniture, I want you to go car shopping.  I highly recommend Kias but you’ve got a $50K budget so that gives you a lot of choices.  Joe will give you a couple of his business cards.  When you find the car, you want, give the sales manager one of his cards and tell them to get in touch with him to take care of payment.  We’re not buying them, but leasing them, and you’ll get a new car every 2 years when the leases expire.”

After everybody had finished eating, and had a final cup of coffee, Joe stood up to get their attention. “We’re now going to go and see the furnished house.  We can look at a couple of the others if you like; they are all within walking distance of one another.  However since they are all very similar, I suggest we just look at the model, so to speak, to get an idea of the size and how much furniture you’re going to need.  You don’t have to get all your furniture right away.  If you need something else later you’ll go back to the warehouse and pick it out.  Also if you order something, and when it’s delivered, it just looks wrong or you really don’t like it, send it back.  As I said earlier, Gerry owns the company so there won’t be any issues.”

“What else do you own, Gerry, that we can take advantage of?”, asked Steve Richards jokingly.

“Oh”, replied Gerry.  “A pro football and a pro basketball team so if you like either of those games, you can use the Owners Box.”

Everybody laughed.  With the incredible good fortune that had landed in their laps plus the internal joy of feeling wanted and useful again, they were all in a good mood.  Nobody knew what the future would bring but they would deal with it when it happened.

Chapter 26 – The Haven

Joe had sent texts to each of his 7 picks with instructions to make their way to The Haven the following week.  While Alexander was waiting for them to arrive, he had installed some extra security around the properly; motion sensors and infrared cameras.  There were also some nasty little surprises around the perimeter wall which had broken glass fragments embedded in the concrete.  That would deter most intruders and those that got over it successfully would soon regret it.  The motion sensors would automatically notify Alexander’s mobile if they were triggered.

The Haven itself was a large property with almost a mile between it and the nearest other properties of which there were just 2.  The wood that encircled the house and which started 200 yards from it was so dense that it would muffle the sound of gunfire.  The one thing that could get  through the security measures was drones.  Alexander had already blasted two out of the skies with his shotgun while he was outside walking the grounds and he would instruct the team to do the same.

The 7 arrived separately and over the course of a single day with the first of them arriigvng just after lunch and the last early evening.  Alexander introduced himself as ‘Alexander, not Alex or Alec’ and showed them to their rooms.  In each of them was a Benelli shotgun with a box of cartridges.  “When you’re out walking the property, if you see any drones flying over, shoot them out of the sky.  They’re trespassing and we have every right to destroy them.  MI’ve already shot down two which might be enough for the word to spread that it’s a bad idea to be flying them over here but keep an eye out.  There’s also an automated clay pigeon range on the west side of the house.  Feel free to go out and practice shooting any time you want.  I usually go out in the morning for an hour.  It’s good to keep the eye in.”

Each one of them thought Alexander was batshit crazy but interesting.  In return Alexander thought each of them was perfect for the job that he, Gerry and Joe had in mind.  Using his old contacts at the CIA, he had obtained the files on each of the 7.  What the CIA and NSA didn’t know about anybody wasn’t worth knowing.  Alexander had read every file thoroughly, committing it to memory, so by the time they arrived, he probably knew more about them than they did themselves.

That evening he had them all come into the kitchen and help themselves to the meal he had prepared.  It was Spaghetti Bolognese with garlic bread and was his favorite go to meal when he was cooking for others,.  He had made two huge pots; one of which had lots of onion, and the other didn’t have any.

Conversation around the table was muted while they ate.  When they had all eaten their fill, and the dishes had been put in the industrial size dishwasher, Alexander led them into the large lounge.  Like everything else at The Haven, it was rustic but very comfortable and a log fire was roaring in the corner.

“Okay”, said Alexander.  “I know who all of you are but none of you know me other than my name is Alexander, not Alex or Alec.  I know that’s kind of a foible but I’m really serious about it.  Let’s all introduce ourselves; just who you are, where you’re from and what your background is.  You’ll all be getting a briefing sheet with this information on it but I’d like to hear it from your own mouths.  Who’s going to start?”

Rufus Black raised his hand.  “Go ahead, Rufus.”

Over the next 15 minutes each of the 7 spoke about their life and experiences.  After they had finished, Alexander gave a brief potted history that didn’t include his time with the CIA, his linguistic ability or his success as an author.  When he had finished he looked around the group.

“So you must all be wondering why you’re here.”  Without waiting for an answer, he continued.  “The political system in this country is completely hopelessly lost and corrupt.  There is an organization called Feet to the Fire that publicizes the worst offenders and does an excellent job of public shaming them, but it’s not enough to deter some of these shitheads.  What you’re going to do is run surveillance operations on the worst of these offenders.  I want to know what they’re doing, who they’re sleeping with and shouldn’t, in fact I want to know everything and then I’m going to plan something that will really screw up their miserable lives in a big way.”

“Are we working with Feet to the Fire?”, asked Cody Jackson.

“No,” lied Alexander.  “They’re finding the bad apples and we’ll be going from there.  They won’t know we exist or what we’re doing.”

“What sort of operations will you be planning?”

“Whatever presents itself.  If somebody leaves themselves open to blackmail and I can use that as leverage for them to change their behavior, then that’s what I’ll do.  But each case will be different and subject to what the 8 of us find out.  You’ll be working in teams of 2 and I’ll make up the 4^th team.  “We’ve got an unlimited budget and I can obtain any equipment that we need.  Some of this work is going to be really boring; surveillance always is but I can promise you there will be some excitement.  You’ve all taken this job on faith so let me explain how you’re going to be compensated.  I assume that everybody is interested in the money side of it.  Please raise your hand if you don’t care about that.”

Not one hand went up. “I didn’t think so. 20K a month plus expenses; that’s what you’re getting and you get to live here.  Now there is no staff so each of you are responsible for looking after yourself.  The kitchen will always be fully stocked so you’re free to prepare your own meals.  If there is anything you want that we don’t have, write it down on the whiteboard next to the stove, and I’ll get it brought in.  We’ll also be bringing in a truck each week with fresh food, meats, lots of vegetables and some wine.  I don’t want anybody drinking hard liquor or getting drunk.  A couple of glasses of wine or a couple of beers is fine but that’s it.  Anybody got a problem with that?”

Again not a hand went up.  “I’m going to be putting you through some fairly intense training.  You all look like you’re really fit and strong but we’re going to make sure of that.  There’s a fully equipped dojo in the big shed to the left of the main house so feel free to go and train with each other on your unarmed combat skills.  Teach each other if you can.”

“Are we going to need those skills?”, asked Cory Bateman.

“Probably not”, replied Alexander “but I want to make sure that if you do, you have them tuned up.  Sone of the people you’re going to be working on will have close protection teams.  I want you to avoid them as far as possible but if there is trouble, handle it.  You must, however, let me know immediately because I may need to pull the teams on that person for a while and let the heat die down.  Oh, and don’t kill anybody.”  He then added “At least not yet.  I’m joking about the ‘not yet’ part.

There was some light laughter.  “Ok, we’ve got an early start in the morning.  We’re going for a five mile cross country run around the estate.  I want to see how fit you are as well as having you familiarize yourself with the grounds.  We’ll meet in here at 6am for coffee if anybody wants it and we’ll be outside at 6.15.  “Don’t be late.  Sleep well.”

The men all left heading back to their rooms for a few hours of sleep.  Alexander waited until they had all left, then locked the door into the room so he couldn’t be disturbed.  He had a call to make to Joe.  Even though the big room was virtually soundproof, he wouldn’t make the call from it or use his cellphone.  Crossing to the big bookcase that was on the wall opposite to the roaring fire, he pulled out two books and revealed the hidden room behind the bookcase.  “Gerry loved these hidden rooms he thought, smiling to himself.  Once inside he pressed a button and the bookcase slid back into place.

Inside the completely soundproofed room, he sat down at a table and picked up one of the dozen or so burner phones that was sitting there.  Opening Signal he called Joe who answered on the first ring.  “Everything alright?”, asked Joe.

“Fine.  Good bunch of people.  I think they’ll be perfect.”

“What have you told them so far?”

“Just what we agreed.”

“Do you think they suspect there’s more?”

“I’m sure they do but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Ok.  Anything else.”

“The two properties nearest us.  Do you know anything about them or their owners?”

“Sure.  They’re both holiday homes for Hollywood people.  One’s a producer and the other’s a soap opera star.  They are hardly ever used and then mostly in the summer.  If they are going to be up there, we’ll hear and I’ll let you know.  They’re both pretty isolated from you so I don’t think it’ll matter.”

“Fine.  I’ll check in tomorrow.  How’s Gerry?”

“He’s okay, some pain but he says it’s bearable.”

“Is he telling the truth?”

“Well that’s a different matter.  You know Gerry.”

“Night, Joe”, said Alexander as he ended the call.  He immediately dialed a second number.  Gerry Hawkins answered on the 3^rd ring. ”Yes, Alexander.’

“Just checking in.  Everybody’s here; all settled in.  Seems like a good bunch.”

“Great.  Have you been working on our plan?”

“I have.”

“And?” , asked Gerry.

“And you don’t want to know about it!” replied Alexander.  This was the part of the plan that Joe wasn’t part of and, with any luck would never find out about.”