He made a loud gasp. “Oh my God,” he said out loud in his empty office. He swiped his phone up and saw two additional images. Despite the strange phone number, he could not believe what he was seeing.
Bruce sat in shock, staring at his wall full of himself with countless celebrities, civic and corporate leaders, and the leadership of the party. For one of the first times in his life, he was left without words after seeing these photographs. All his mind could focus on were the honking sounds being made by the delivery trucks down on the street.
Tap-tap-tap.
A moment later, a knock sounded at the door and in walked Richard. It was typical for Richard to come in and talk business, and he was coming in to chat about the scheduled lunch speech for later today but saw that the congressman didn’t look himself. Richard stood in the doorway with his hand on the knob, giving him a few seconds. “Sir, are you ok?”
The congressman hesitated. He was just about shitting his pants. Panicked. Anyone else see these? “Yes, yes. I need a few minutes, Richard.” He shut the door as he took out his blue handkerchief and wiped his forehead and neck.
The photos were clear and of good quality, and they were damning. Looking back to his phone, Bruce’s eyes narrowed on the small screen, which displayed the image of himself naked, next to two different girls in a bed. He could not make out where and when, but he knew both of them. No question, it was Bruce. His face was clear and recognizable, leaving no doubt in someone’s mind. These are wicked bad. Compromising photos of him with two women. Jesus. Janice…
About another minute went by before a text arrived. The timing was textbook from the sender.
Call me by 3pm today or these get sent to print reporters in DC and Buffalo.
Bruce felt like a deer being hunted out in the woods. Cold. Alone. Betrayed.
How could this happen?
He went into law school mode, knowing that someone else besides him should be handling this situation for him. But because the subject was so damning, so sensitive, he knew he’d have to call this stranger himself. There was no time to get his lawyer up to speed and generate a plan. Couldn’t tell Capitol police yet. Or ever. He closed his eyes for a moment, reviewing any and all options. She can never find out. The house. The kids. I’m totally screwed.
Bruce tapped the number and dialed, listening to the ring and waiting for it to be answered.
Two more taps were heard on his door, now the worst possible timing by Richard. “Sir, is this a good time to-”
“No! No. Come back later.” He quickly waved his arm to shut the door. He swung his right arm multiple times, motioning the person attempting to come in to shut it. Holding the phone with one hand now, he marched around his big, dark oak desk and made sure the door was shut. Flush with the wall and closed, he pressed his free hand on it, taking no chances. With his phone wedged between his shoulder and cheek, he then used both hands to lock the door.
“Yo, didn’t take you long to call, Bruce,” said the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Do you know who the hell I am? I can crush you. I’ll have the FBI arrest your ass for threatening me by tomorrow morning.”
“Bruce is such a… gay-sounding name,” said the man. His voice sounded like a teenager, casual in tone, and calm. Bruce immediately noticed that he sounded like this guy thought he was in charge.
“Yeah, well, I’m not gay,” Bruce snapped.
“I can see you ain’t from my pics,” the voice replied with wit.
“You motherf-”
“Look, congressman. Of course, we know your name. Your elections. The whole deal, yo.”
“You’re a piece of shit,” Bruce replied, picking up now on his street lingo.
“We’re going to be good friends, congressman. Here’s my plan. We meet tonight, end of Haines Point, 6 p.m. Be there.”
The congressman’s mind ran wild as to who the voice could be. Who uses ‘yo’? he thought. The caller had compromising pictures that would destroy him and ruin his current House seat, his upcoming campaign, and his marriage, a trifecta of disaster. The reelection. Damn it.
“I… I can’t. I have a dinner, and I’m giving a keynote speech in Georgetown. We have to do it another time. I’m-” he replied. It was far from convincing.
“Yo, you better be there, mofo.”
The line went dead, and Bruce closed his eyes. Screaming on the inside, he felt his blood draining from his face. He slumped into his chair, looking down through his two east-facing windows, slouching in silence. Staring down on the Capitol East Front and Library of Congress, he didn’t know what to say. His entire life, he was Mister Smooth, a successful lawyer, making big money with a trophy wife, and he was now caught with the ladies.
“Shit!” he yelled.
“Richard?” he yelled. Not waiting for an answer, “Could you come in please?”
The Sanborn, New York, native was a trusted full-time special assistant and senior legislative director. He was also a part-time Air Force Reserve officer at Niagara.
Richard had attempted Air Force pilot training, but the medical screening booted him out of the program. Due to medical privacy, the chief pilot never knew the reason why he was kicked out, but Richard found another way to continue serving in the military. A lieutenant colonel at the base, he was very knowledgeable about military issues, topics on the Hill, the upcoming BRAC, and local challenges back in the Buffalo area, which made him a perfect fit to work as a civilian in Bruce’s office. Over time, Richard became fond of the congressman and would do anything for him. Anything. To say over time that he had romantic feelings for the handsome and powerful congressman was an understatement.
“Richard, I have a real problem on my hands. Are you available to make a meeting tonight with me?”
“Yes, Congressman. Of course. You are meeting with who?”
“Tell you later, not important right now. Just clear the schedule. Tell ’em I’m sick. Call someone from the Committee to cover for me, I don’t know and don’t care. We got a thing going on,” he said, perturbed. “Get the sedan out… we gotta go for a ride.”
Richard left after clearing the schedule and made arrangements for a government sedan downstairs. He checked out a car and parked it on C Street NW, waiting for the Congressman to arrive.
Bruce headed outside after spotting him, and looked around tensely. His nerves continued to grow with each passing minute, and the last thing he needed was to run into a fellow member while he was thinking of the hot water he got himself into.
The congressman climbed into the passenger seat and Richard pulled away to sit in the heavy rush-hour traffic. He could smell the acrid exhaust from the delivery truck in front of them as the black puffs of diesel smoke poured out and enveloped the car.
Bruce began talking faster than usual in an effort to explain the situation from the beginning. Richard slowly made his way through the streets in the sedan as they drove over in twilight to Haines Point from the Rayburn House Office Building. Now at a dead stop in a bit of traffic on the I-395 highway, the congressman was short and to the point.
“Richard, I need you to help me on this.”
“Yes, sir. I have your back, congressman. Anything.”
“So, I got caught with these girls, you see. Bottom line is that this guy we’re meeting with has some real evidence of me being with them. He has photos, okay?” Bruce said, picking up speed again. “Couple pics of me with them… together. Couple threats from this guy to go to the press. I talked to him already on the phone,” Bruce told him, pausing.
“Slow down, I’m listening, sir. Go ahead.”
“Now, I do know the editors of each paper,” as he pointed out the window, “but I doubt they would sit on this story.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Then there’s the Ethics Committee, for heaven’s sake. That majority leader ain’t letting go of this news if he g
ets wind of it. I gotta talk to this guy, Richard, and see… see what he wants. Understand?”
“Yes, congressman. Yeah, I’m good, but this situation, so far, is complicated. The implications are quite large, with reelection,” Richard replied. His blinking increased and he made what some would consider weird facial expressions, but the congressman did not notice. “How about the U.S. Capitol police? They have an entire Protective Services Bureau for this, and I...”
“No. No police. Richard? No police. These are naked photos. You think them cops are going to keep this under wraps?” Bruce snapped back.
Richard sat in silence after being scolded, then spoke up, feeling the need to defend himself. “Just an idea, Congressman.”
“Sorry, Richard. Just… no police. We need to see what’s on the table from his end. I got a ton riding on this. A truck load. Janice would divorce me, and she’d take the kids. Clean me out. And I already owe a ton of money.”
The two of them pulled up and parked near the only other car at the southern tip of East Potomac Park, Haines Point, the part of the park that extended out into the Potomac River. The posted sign said ‘Bus Parking,’ but there were no buses this time of night or season. The car beside theirs had Maryland plates, but no one was in it. Haines Point was dark, but ambient light was coming from nearby Fort McNair and the National Defense University.
“This guy is from Maryland? By the way, sir, did you catch the news on the landslide last night in California? It was…”
“Richard! Focus. Focus on what we are doing here. Right here and now. Okay?”
“Yes, yes.”
Ray Parker of the Niagara Red Kings stood at Haines Point wearing his baseball hat backwards, a dark hoodie sweatshirt and a black leather jacket near the playground and out of sight. Able to see his breath in the cool spring evening air, he spotted the black sedan they were driving in right away, as it was common in the district and a normal vehicle spotted at Haines Point. Ray saw Richard getting out first, and just as the rain began, the congressman exited the sedan.
Richard opened an umbrella and handed it to the congressman.
Ray made his way out from the playground area, past the restrooms, and directly to the near empty parking lot. He stopped in front of the men, the three of them now staring at each other. The rain drops hitting the umbrella drowned out the commuter traffic in the distance.
“Congressman.” He nodded. “I knew you’d come,” said Ray, getting a whiff of the salty sea air traveling the Potomac River from the nearby Chesapeake Bay.
The blood drained from Bruce’s face, and at that moment, Ray figured he had to know what was about to happen. A guy like this from Buffalo, raised on the streets between the Italian and Irish sections, had to know by intuition this was going to be a classic shakedown.
“You bastard. You have a western New York accent. And you’re Indian on top of it. I knew your accent,” he said, shaking his head back and forth. “What do you want?”
“Yo, congressman, come now. You’re old friends to us. Can’t we just get along?” replied Ray.
“What do you want? I’m a busy man.”
Ray glanced around casually, acting as level-headed as he could. Just a quick look, and remained silent. Perfect location. No one around.
“I know you’re busy. I can see from the photos, Bruce,” Ray said, then letting the silence go for a while.
Ray could tell Bruce didn’t like the silence. This was a negotiation tactic Ray learned from old TV shows, and he liked the nasty, dark D.C. park, too.
Bruce broke the silence. “I saw the pictures. I want them deleted and forgotten.”
Ray shook his head and knew right there he got him. Easier than I thought.
“Congressman, no one out here but us friends and the tides,” he said as he clasped his hands together, showing tattoos that covered the back of his hands. He then touched the knuckles to each other, and the letters tattooed on them made a word or words, but it was tough to see in the dark. “Bro. This is what you’re going to do. I don’t care how you do it, but it’s gonna happen.”
There was a long pause as they stared at each other. Bruce then turned to Richard, but he didn’t return the look, so Bruce shot his eyes back to Ray. The rain started to come down heavy around them, the ‘pitter-patter’ on the umbrella amplifying the sound.
“First, don’t underestimate me, yo. Kid here is young, looks like a punk, doesn’t know anything. I assure you I do. We do.”
“You don’t know anything, Injun,” Bruce said.
“I see you. Okay. So, not only do you cheat on your wife, and take bribes, but you don’t like Native Americans while you’re at it.”
“Screw you.”
“Okay, asshole. What I got, Anderson, is you. I can tell you I know your wife’s name is Janice. Your four kids are named Olivia, Eva, Owen, and Bobby.”
“Big effing deal. That’s a matter of public record. You don’t look so smart or tough, either, so here’s what I’m not going to do…”
Ray started laughing. “You’re in no position to negotiate. None. Seems like I have the upper hand, considering I was able to get an elected Member of Congress out of an engagement on a wet night in the middle of a D.C. park. How about I know you exercise at the Buffalo Saturn Club Saturdays at 9 a.m. Your kids attend Christ the King. Your wife gets her hair and nails done in Williamsville on Tuesday mornings. And you meet Nikki when you tell your wife you are meeting the guys at the Elks Lodge.”
Bruce’s face was stoic. “So, you follow me around town. Big-”
Ray cut him off. “Bro, you want to know how smart I am? I can give you a lecture right now on Fibonacci numbers, Brexit, or Plato. Or all three. How about International Economics and the Balance of Trade and Balance of Payments? Or, tough guy, we can chat about Pi being 3.14159265359 and throw around some Hill policy on health care. Understand? Don’t fuck with me.”
The rain started gushing over the umbrella now, and it was tougher to hear. Ray looked over to study Richard a bit more now, and was intrigued with him.
Because Ray was looking at him, he took it as a cue to start talking. “Ok, you’re smart. What do you want with the congressman?”
“Here’s the deal, yo. Know how you’re all about helping your constituents at… Rochester, Buffalo. Now you’re going to help us. I’m glad you brought your stiff assistant here so you can both listen,” he nodded to Richard. “You are to close down the Niagara Falls Air Base with BRAC. The Base Realignment deal. Get it on the list to close. Shut that hole of a base down.”
The rain drip-drip-dripped off Ray’s hoodie.
“Wha? Nah, no. I don’t have the authority. I’m not the chairman of that commission, I’m not even assigned to it.”
“Listen to me. Both of you. BRAC. Niagara closes. Yeah?”
“What else?” Bruce asked.
“Step two is you unlock any red tape from the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act. You work with the National Indian Gaming Commission to simplify us building a large casino and resort hotel on the base,” Ray told him.
“You are absolutely freaking crazy. Hotel and casino? I don’t know anyone on that gaming commission either!”
“You got some work to do then, huh, Bro? You’ll do it for me and the Native Americans on the Rez. You accepted campaign donations last year from the Seneca Nation Gaming Commission, so I know you are a fan of casinos. Checked the donor website and confirmed it, so don’t try to bullshit me,” said Ray.
“I did accept it, but-”
Ray cut him off again. “You don’t seem too fond of natives, though, I’ll tell you that. Pro-gaming, pro-money, but not pro-native. Interesting, Brucie.”
Richard looked like he was going to squeeze the leather off the umbrella handle.
“We’re not here to chat about my support, but these photos you sent…,” Bruce said.
> “Ok, congressman, you posed for them, not me. Since we’re talking about support, how about your lack of federal support for providing improvements on the New York State Thruway? Ring a bell? Tolls that have not been collected by the Seneca Nation on the Cattaraugus Reservation to improve the rough roads?”
“That’s a state assembly issue in Albany,” Bruce told him.
“Oh, so you now have no influence at the state capital for constituents?”
Ray thought the congressman was becoming agitated.
“You can go eff yourself,” Bruce told him.
“Let’s keep going since things are going so well between us. That about covers step two and how you like native gaming, so once again, thanks for accepting our campaign donations,” Ray said.
“You can go eff yourself a second time.”
“And finally, step three, is you’ll work to arrange for federal grants for the construction of it. Capeesh?” Ray grinned as he used the Italian term, reflecting on Pacino.
It looked to Ray as if Bruce’s stomach fell into his shoes. “What’s your name?”
“Ray Parker. This is the real deal, know what I’m sayin’? You may even get a cut, right? This is long term, congressman. I know you like cash on the side. This is a good deal for you, considering the situation you’re in.”
“Ray, that base has been operating for years. It supports hundreds, maybe thousands of families. The men and women… the aircraft. There is no other chief employer in the area. It’s their livelihood.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass!” Ray yelled over the drumbeat of the rain. “Don’t pretend like you’re their savior, like you’ve been looking out for the military since you’ve been elected. Your votes suck and lean toward the lobbyists every time. You’d pave a shopping mall over the place if they paid you enough. You play with fire, you get burned. One press of the finger and the pics and videos go right to the press.” He then took his index finger and shoved it hard into his chest. “Close that base, jerkoff. You got that?”
The Buffalo Pilot: A Ford Stevens Military-Aviation Thriller (Book 3) Page 9