[b]Hawkinsville, Georgia[/b] Jim Sanderson walked through the hallways of Hawkinsville High School hand in hand with his third wife Jenny. The school looked a lot smaller than it did when he was younger. It was because [i]he[/i] was bigger now. Bigger than this school, bigger than this whole goddamn town. He couldn't wait to leave this shithole behind and go back to D.C. as Senator Sanderson, elected in his own right. Vote tallies were still coming in from the eastern part of the state, and the CSRA was Taliaferro's political base, but as it stood Sanderson had a comfortable eighty thousand vote lead over the governor. [i]Former[/i] governor Jim reminded himself. Hamp Taliaferro resigned from the governorship two days after his arrest in Macon. He hadn't officially withdrawn from the senator race, it was too late to change the ballots, but he said he would not serve if elected. Even with that promise he still got a solid hundred thousand votes just based on name recognition alone. He was elated when the news broke the morning after Taliferro's arrest. Everyone inside Georgia politics had known about Hamp's predilection for colored girls that were barely legal, but nobody ever really did anything about it. Jim's staff called it a lucky break, a huge misstep by Taliaferro and his people. But Jim knew the truth. The arrest and the sudden change of fortune for his campaign wasn't dumb luck or a slip-up by the governor. It was [i]him[/i] who had done it. Jim rubbed the monkey's paw and made his wish, and it came true in the most horrible way imaginable. The crowd gathered in the high school gym cheered loudly as Jim and Jenny stepped out on the stage. They waved and beamed at the crowd caught up in the moment. Jim held his arms up in an effort to call for silence. He finally got it after another solid minute of cheering. "Thank you, Hawkinsville, for that warm welcome home. Y'all know how to make a hometown boy feel good!" More cheers from the crowd. Jim smiled and played up the aww shucks angle. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish in the face of their applause. "I have to admit, when it was getting down to the wire and I wasn't sure if I was gonna win... I was looking forward to coming back home for good. This is my hometown, and I am proud to tell the people in Washington that I come from Hawkinsville!" They ate that up as was to be expected. He beamed and hid any signs of contempt as their cheers and whoops subsided into silence. " I'd like to thank you and the voters of Georgia who have given me the awesome responsibility of representing them in Washington for the next six years. This is something I will not take lightly, this is something I will work hard at for six long years. Now, I'd like to speak a moment about my opponent, Governor Taliaferro--" A score of boos filled with the gym, boos mixed in with a few racial slurs. Jim held his hands up and called for silence, doing his best to look solemn and serious instead of grinning widely as he spoke about the disgraced ex-governor. "--Now we don't know what went on in Macon, and I chose to remain silent about it in the days leading up to the election. We still don't know the whole story and I did not want to comment on it without knowing the whole story. But I do know the former governor, and I will say that Hampton Taliaferro served the state of Georgia for over twenty years in the state legislature, in Washington as a congressman, and as governor. Both Jenny and I send our thoughts and prayers to both him and his family, including our new Governor McCall, as they go through this difficult time. God bless him and his family, God bless you all, God bless Georgia, and God bless the United States of America!" An even louder round of applause mixed in with hoots and hollers. Jim walked to the edge of the stage and shook hands with people standing up and applauding him while Jenny blew kisses and awkwardly high-fived those near the stage with their hands out. They played it up with the crowd for a few minutes before retreating backstage. "I can't wait to be back in Washington," Jim said once they were off the stage. "Me too," a voice said from behind the Sandersons. Russell and Robin Reed stood smiling behind them. Robin rushed over and kissed Jim on the cheek and hugged Jenny while Reed took Jim's hand and pumped it vigorously. "We were watching results come in at home and decided to come down here to say congratulations." "Thank you, Mr. Vice President," Jim mumbled. "It was a well-earned victory, Senator." Reed pulled Jim closer, his hands grabbing Jim's lapels on both sides. Reed was a half inch shorter than Jim, but the way he pushed people around and crowded personal space always made him seem much taller than he actually was. Reed reached out and adjusted Jim's necktie, speaking while he futzed with it. "And let's not forget your promise to me, Jim," he whispered. "The price of getting elected was your loyalty. I lived up to my part of our deal, now you need to live up to yours." "I will," Jim croaked out. "I promise, Russ." "Good," Reed said as he let go of Jim's suit. "Robin and I are flying back to Washington tonight. Enjoy Hawkinsville, enjoy the fact that you're just visiting and not back to stay permanently. And then come on back to D.C. because we've got work to do." Another round of congratulations from the Reeds. They took their leave and Jim watched them walk down the hallways of the school. Russell stopped just before they turned a corner and winked at him. Jim waved as they disappeared around the corner. He couldn't help but feeling like he'd made a deal with the devil. And like any deal with the devil, he got what he wanted at the price of his soul. ----- [b]Chicago[/b] "Top of the third inning here in Rockford and the Mud Hens cycle back around to the top of the order. Left fielder Billy Carter comes back up to the plate. He drew a walk back in the first inning and parlayed that into a success by stealing second--" The car radio crackled with static. Johnny Leggario adjusted the dial to make the signal clearer. "--only batting around .200 since he was put in the Mud Hens' starting lineup two weeks ago, but the kid has made up for it with his legs. He's already snagged fifteen stolen bases in seventeen games. Todd sets and here's the first pitch... ball on the outside." "What's with the bush league game, Johnny?" Mick Mahoney asked from the backseat. "Let's listen to the Cubbies or Sox." "Cubbies are off today and I fucking hate the Sox," was all Johnny said. Not listening to the conversation or the radio at all was Prussian Joe. He was in the front passenger seat looking across the street at the First National Bank of Chicago. The chubby little man held tightly to a notebook and pen, occasionally jotting down notes when he made an observation. The more Johnny worked with the German, the more and more he respected him. He was smart, but not like most crooks. Most guys were like Mahoney, idiots who kept trying and trying until they made a score. The smart ones were like Johnny and Bobby C., smart but their brains were more instinctual than any actual knowledge. It was street smarts more than anything. Prussian Joe with his constant notes and timing was some kind of criminal scientist. "Two balls and no strikes. Here comes the pitch... it's popped up out into right field. Bradley gets under it and catches it for one out. That'll bring third baseman Matt Robinson up to the plate." "If we do this, we do this at night," Prussian Joe said after a few more scribbles in his notebook. Johnny turned the radio down so they could talk. "If we go in during the day we don't have to crack the safe," Mahoney said from the back. "Too much exposure?" Johnny asked Prussian Joe. "Ja. We'd need at least two men on crowd control, plus a day take means we still have a short window even with the alarm off. If we go in at night, say at eleven then we'd have over eight hours to crack the safe and cart all the money out." "Taking the bank here would entail more than CPD," Johnny said with a finger pointed down the street. "Two blocks that way is the Murray Building and that's G-Man headquarters. If we go in during the day and it blows up in our face, we got half the goddamn FCB breathing down our necks." Johnny reached into his jacket and pulled out a roll of bills. He thumbed through it before pulling off two hundred dollar bills and passing them back to Mahoney. "Johnny? That's... I can't." "It's not for you, [i]dummkopf,[/i]" Prussian Joe snapped. "Go in the bank and set up an account. Try and get a good look at the safe while you are in there and see the make and model." Mahoney nodded and hurried out the car, crossing the street and disappearing inside the bank. Johnny lit up a cigarette and listened to the baseball game while Prussian Joe watched and timed how long Mahoney spent in the bank. "Alarm system is inside," Johnny said as he blew smoke out the cracked window. "Day or night, how do we get in and overload it before it gets tripped?" The tubby little man bummed a cigarette off Johnny and pondered his question while he smoked. "There's a circuit breaker halfway down the block that controls this part of the power grid. We'd have to trip the circuit breaker and then get inside to overload the alarm before the power can come back on." "What would be the timeframe on doing that?" "Thirty seconds to a minute, I'd guarantee. That seems about the average response time from Chicago Power and Water when I tried something similar two days ago on the Northside. Whoever is monitoring the power grid, they can temporarily reroute power through another section of the grid until a worker gets out on site and fixes it." Johnny grunted. "Not a lot of time." "If we can do it right, we'll have all the time in the world." Mahoney came out the bank and got back in Johnny's car. "Safe looks doable. I'll need a few power tools to get into it right, but I can get into it without too much trouble." "You better not be talking out your ass," Johnny said as he started the car. "Because I would hate to kill you, Mick." Mahoney squirmed in his seat. Johnny traded looks with Prussian Joe and had to suppress a laugh as he pulled out into traffic. ----- [b]Blythe, California[/b] "Fuck you, Redman!" Jacob Tallchief resisted the urge to pound the drunk's face into the casino bar. Instead, he popped his knuckles and flexed his muscles. "It's time for you to go, pal." Jacob grabbed the drunk by the scruff of his neck with one hand and started pushing him through the casino with the other. Jacob had a full six inches on the man, causing him to walk on his tip toes as he was given the bum's rush. A few of the gamblers on the playing floor stopped to gawk at the big Indian manhandling the little white man with the big mouth. Outside, Jacob tossed the drunk across the parking lot. He banged against the pavement and slid up against a parked car. Jacob brushed his hands off and looked down at the dazed drunk. "You're fucking banned, white boy. I see you in here again and I'll beat the shit out of you along with half my tribe." He turned away from the prostrate man and headed back towards the casino. The bright neon lights of the Tomahawk Casino lit up the desert night for miles around Blythe. Jacob went back inside and back to work. The crowd tonight wasn't too bad, a few dozen gamblers out on the floor and giving their money to the Tribe. Most of the people at the Tomahawk went for slots over cards and dice. Nearly everyone who stopped in here were just passing through to Sun City forty miles to the east. They'd lose a bit of money here and move on down the road, try taking their chances in the big city. Standing Bear created with the Tomahawk for the reason to siphon off some of Sun City's profit before the chumps even got there. "Jake!" Web Tallchief came up to Jacob and put a hand on his shoulder. Web was Jacob's cousin on his mother's side and part of the Tribe, even though he was half white. Web was five years older than Jacob, but Jacob had always seemed to be the older of the two in a physical and mental sense. Web was twenty-five, going on fifteen. "What do you want, Webasha?" "Let me have some money, cuz." "Get your own," Jacob said as he took Web's hand off his shoulder. "And what do you need it for?" "Melanie," he said, nodding towards one of the chip girls on the floor. She was dressed in the stereotypical squaw outfit of leather, this outfit very revealing to show off her log legs and ample cleavage. Her blonde hair was put up and disguised by a black wig. "She said she'd fuck me if I gave her twenty dollars." "Standing Bear told me not to let you fraternize with the girls anymore." Web rolled his eyes and pushed Jake. He was too solid to budge. The force instead pushed Web back from Jacob. "That bastard. He knocked up that dealer Minnie last year and now I got a bastard half-brother. He can't control his dick, but I'm the one who gets in trouble." "He's the chief," Jacob said with a shrug. "And being chief has its privileges. Now let me get back to work, cuz." Web shook his head and stalked off through the casino. Jacob watched him walk away before his eyes drifted towards Melanie. She laughed a little too hard at whatever the fat man at the blackjack table was say. Jacob caught her eye and winked at her. She flushed and mouthed the word midnight. That was when her shift ended. Jacob knew her crack to Web was a joke. She liked to tease him and remind him that she was something he couldn't have. That was because she was reserved for Jacob. He looked out across the casino floor and the goings on. He was only twenty-three, but the casino and the Tribe were his birthright. The Tribe was officially known as the Augustine Band within the larger Cahuilla Indian Tribe of California. Currently, the Augustine Band numbered twenty and that included Web's bastard half-brother. Jacob's grandfather Nanuq Tallchief broke away from the Cahuilla's years before Jacob was born and formed his own offshoot. The official members on the tribe roll today were Nanuq's three children and their children. The Tribe would only expand when Jacob's generation had children, the restrictions were such that it would never go outside the descendants of Nanuq. Even though Jacob's mother was pure-blooded Cahuilla she still wasn't considered part of the Tribe. The reason for the exclusion was because all members of the Tribe got a share of the Tomahawk's profits at year end with the biggest share always going to the chief. The Tomahawk had elevated the Tallchief family from common Indian trash to upper middle class overnight, and the influx of cash into the city of Blythe had turned the family into local royalty. "Jacob to management," the PA system announced. "Jacob to management.' Jacob cast one last long look at Melanie before he headed upstairs to the office. Standing Bear Tallchief, the head of the Augustine Tribe, looked down his large Roman nose at his nephew. If Jacob ever wanted to know what he would look like as a middle-aged man, he need not look any further than Standing Bear. His hair was still pitch black, but a shock of gray ran through the middle. His body was still muscular, but it was at the point where muscle started to become fat. He had a slight double chin that was becoming more prominent as the years passed. Jacob looked more like Standing Bear than he did his own father, which led to a lot of speculation as to Jacob's parentage. Standing Bear had been more of a father to him than his own dad, and that was true of the entire Tribe. His grandfather's secession from the Cahuilla's was something to do with some petty feud between the old man and the tribal elders. His emotions got the best of him and he left with no plan or no inclination of what his family could accomplish. But Standing Bear had a vision. He fought and lobbied for years to get the Federal and State government to recognize the Augustines as its own band, and he and other tribal leaders from across the state worked non-stop to get the Indian Gaming Bill through the state legislature. To Jacob, Standing Bear was a true man because he provided. Not just for his immediate family, but the whole Tribe. When the old man died ten years ago, there was no question at all who would be chief. Who else but Standing Bear could be their chief? "Jake, have a seat." Jacob complied and sat down in one of the plush chairs facing Standing Bear's desk. He could see the far-off glow of Sun City's bright lights through the window just over his uncle's shoulder. Standing Bear pulled a cigar from the box on his desk and offered Jacob one. He politely declined as his uncle lit up. "I know you're busy, but I needed to talk to you about something before I go home." "Anything you need, chief. What's up?" Standing Bear blew smoke rings above his head. "I need you to put together a small crew. Maybe four of your cousins or brothers. The meanest ones, just for show." "What's going on?" "We're having a sit-down meeting in Sun City in a few days with the casino guys. Their Board of Directors is going to be there, along with the Horde's officers." The Horde. Fucking trailer trash on bikes. Jacob had a scar above his left eyebrow because of a pair of brass knuckles from one of those redneck assholes. That attack had put the Tribe on the precipice of war with the biker gang two years ago, but Standing Bear managed to negotiate a truce with their president. Now the Horde stayed away from Blythe, and the Tribe stuck to the casino and the city. "What's the play, chief?" "Negotiations" was all Standing Bear said. "Anything else you feel the need to clue me in on?" "No," Standing Bear said as he blew smoke rings towards Jacob. "Just do as your chief says, Jake. If you can't do it, I'll get Web. Little Web hanging out with those bikers and mobsters, he'll feel like a real gangster." "I'll do it," Jacob replied with a sigh. He knew Standing Bear would never let Web handle anything so important, but he didn't want to put his cousin in the position to fuck it up. "I'll get Sammy and Gene's boys. They look mean enough." Standing Bear stood and walked around his desk, motioning for Jacob to follow him out the door. "If this comes out like I want it to, Jake, then you'll be my number two man here in the casino and everything we do outside of it." He wrapped a big arm around his shoulder and held him close. Standing Bear guided them out the office and downstairs to the casino floor. They walked together closely across the floor while Standing Bear talked over the din from the action. "Big things are in store for the Tribe. Just follow me and trust my wisdom and you'll see. You can you do that, can't you?" "Why not?" Jacob asked with a smirk. He motioned towards the clang of slot machines and the clatter of the roulette wheel. "Look where it's gotten us so far." ---- [b]Washington D.C.[/b] "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be making our approach into Andrews Field and will be landing in Washington in ten minutes." Robin Reed stirred at the captain's announcement and looked around the cabin of the plane. Russell was given the use of a private US Army Airforce plane for flights around the country. It was a shabby thing with two prop engines and a dozen seats. Even with Russell's small staff and secret service detail managed to make fill the cabin up with ease. The small enclosure meant there wasn't much privacy for the two of them, but they managed to take the two seats furthest from the front and out of earshot from anyone else. "Did you sleep?" Russell was staring out the window, lost in thought. The look on his face was one she hadn't seen much, but she'd seen it enough to easily identify it. It was self-doubt. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He stirred at the touch and looked back at her. "I've been weighing the cost." Robin took Russell's hand and rubbed his knuckles with her thumb. The man beside her was someone nobody else ever saw. To the world at large, Russell Reed was a ruthless political animal who played legislatures the way a conductor played an orchestra. She was the one with the heart, the one who charmed and beguiled with her great compassion. The Washington wags called them Beauty and the Beast. The truth was that Russell's hardened image was partially an image. He condemned and belittled liberals and idealists along with the rest of the Southerners, but deep down his compassion and empathy was strong. So strong that he'd spent thirty years of his life keeping it down and keeping it hidden from everyone but her. "What happened this week in Georgia is something that I can never undo," he said as he squeezed her hand. He made sure nobody was around before he softly said, "I ruined a man's life, and I did it simply because he stood in the way of something I wanted." "And you got what you wanted. Do you want me to make you feel better by saying you did the right thing?" "Yes," he said quickly. "I want to know I did the wrong thing for the right reasons." Robin looked away from him and mulled that one over. This was another side of the Second Couple no one else saw. For all her warmth, Robin Reed was every bit as ambitious and pragmatic as her husband. Russell's yearning ambition was hard to maintain after forty years. She remembered him telling her the truth the first night they made love. Ever since his father's disgrace in local politics, young Russell was hellbent on being somebody and doing something. That constant, never-ending desire took its toll after decades. And every now and then she needed to feed that fire. "Right and wrong they no longer exist at this level," she said as she gently rubbed the back of Russell's neck. "Hampton Taliaferro was a drunk and a pederast. The only thing you did was show the world what he really was. You got Jim Sanderson elected, and you showed the president you still have influence. What does this do for your plan?" "It can go forward without any changes," he said as he took her hand from around his neck and held it in his. "And I've got a southern senator sworn to me. It's a start. With Jim on my side, I can create cracks in the Southern Caucus." "Good. You'll need Jim and every bit of that presidential trust for what comes next. Was what you did right? No, it was not right. But it was necessary." "'Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done, is done'," Russell quoted with a raised eyebrow. "Is that the long and short of it, Lady Reed?" Robin smiled as Russell pulled her close and kissed her cheek. She glanced out the window and saw the lights and skyline of Washington D.C. below. The city all lit up at night looked peaceful and still. From afar, it looked like a peaceful place and not the nest of vipers it really was. "'By the pricking of my thumbs," she said as the plane began its descent over the city. "'Something wicked this way comes.'"