Political Science 101

Chapter Thirty

"HE'S ONTO US," Jeb Larkin said as he watched the red light on the digital tape recorder switch off. The sound of those words as he spoke them made him nervous, as though speaking them out loud made them more serious.

"Shut up, you old fool," Lenore said dismissively. "He knows nothing. No one does."

"You don't think we've gone too far this time?" Jeb asked, looking at Lenore from across the dim cave-like den, the light from the fireplace faintly illuminating one side of her face, the rest of her face phased into the dark shadows. Jeb's rustic room of discussion was surprisingly dark that afternoon, mostly due to the overcast weather outside and the dark velvet curtains over the windows.

"Of course not," Lenore said with arrogance. "Go big or go home," she said, attempting to use a cliché which Jeb's Texas roots would appreciate, but it only sounded awkward coming from her. Regardless, she maintained her devilish grin as the flickering fireplace now illuminated her entire face. She sat motionless as the flickering beams from the crackling fire danced across her face. "Once we have everything and everyone in place," she said with strategy in her voice, "you'll see that this was a necessary evil." She took a breath of false concern. "Of course I didn't want this to happen," she said, "but now that it has, everything will come together.

"If you say so," Jeb said reluctantly, "but I think we should keep an eye on Dr. Bradley."

"Agreed," Lenore said with a sign of resignation.

"I still don't get it, though," Jeb said, his tone reflecting confusion.

"What don't you get?" Lenore replied with annoyance.

"What is it about this random small-college political science professor that makes him such a threat to us? We've never met him, he has nothing to do with any of this; what is it about this guy?"

"I know it seems random," she said, "but it's not."

"I don't suppose you'd let me in on this, would you?" Jeb said, leaning back in his seat, hoping to be illuminated.

"Okay," Lenore said. "My plan to get this pipeline done and get this money in our pockets goes back pretty far. It is a long time in the making. And now that we've had to eliminate a congressman, he'll definitely know what's going on."

"How the hell would he know?" Jeb asked, still not clear on the situation.

"Mitch Bradley wrote a book," Lenore said.

"So?" Jeb replied.

"It was called Politics of Poison. It sold pretty well, but only because it was published by the university press and they made it required reading for his classes."

"I still don't follow," Jeb said, shaking his head.

"In his book," she explained, "Dr. Bradley explored political scandals and political corruption from every angle. One chapter in his book explains exactly how, in-theory, a person with money and influence could essentially control enough legislators to pass their own agenda. He explains it in detail; he describes perfectly how, in-theory, it could happen if someone with enough money was motivated enough to pretty much buy congress."

"Okay," Jeb said, sounding like he was beginning to understand.

"Well," Lenore continued, "I have essentially used his book as the how-to on getting politicians in my pocket. And my end-game is to get this massive pipeline project approved, with no-bid contracts going to my companies to build it."

"Ah," Jeb said, "I follow."

"He only wrote it as a hypothetical because he was writing a book about political corruption. But I've used his book as my own instruction manual, and it has worked flawlessly."

"So," Jeb said, "if he catches on, so what?"

"That would be like him knowing our entire strategy." Lenore paused, leaning forward. "He would know enough of our plan to know what our next move would be."

"I see," Jeb said.

"Maybe I'm being too careful," she said, "but considering what is at-risk and what can be gained, I'm covering ever detail."

"By tapping his phone?" Jeb asked.

"Well," Lenore said, "that, and I have a few people keeping an eye on him."

"Interesting," Jeb said.

"Yes," Lenore said with another devilish smile, "it certainly is."

She got up without a goodbye and left the room, exiting Jeb's front door and getting into the black Lincoln Town Car which awaited her. She situated herself comfortably in the backseat and bluntly instructed the driver where to take her.

She looked out of the tinted window, re-thinking the day's events. Something in her eyes changed. She remembered her meeting when she first put her grand scheme into motion; she hated how she initially doubted herself. But those sentiments had long since left her, and she was instead feeling something much different, and she loved it. The national media was covering an event that she set into motion. The world was talking about something she had done. And while she obviously couldn't shout it from the mountain tops, she resigned herself to sitting quietly in the back of the Town Car, basking in the greatest sense of power she'd ever enjoyed. Her devilish grin returned to her face as she leaned her head back against the headrest.

This was power.