“What did you think of the defense attorney whose wife was murdered, and didn’t let any of his colleagues represent the man who murdered her?”
“What goes around comes around. He deserved to be sanctioned.”
“What would you have done?”
“I don’t know,” Alan thought and became a little nervous.
“The guy did what any normal powerful man would’ve done. How could anyone just sit around and let a rapist go without punishment?”
The pause was thick and uncomfortable. Brutowski sensed it, but he didn’t understand it.
“Maybe we should save this discussion for the beers too.” Alan dismissed further conversation.
CHAPTER 18
Peter Spark
Peter Spark loved Daniel Carlson, because Daniel Carlson gave Peter Spark everything Peter needed to thrive. Daniel Carlson became Senator Carlson by his career history, breeding, and his ability to deliver a message by public speaking. Now, as a Senator, he had a voting history. Senator Carlson didn’t play the favor bank like an adept politician. Most politicians don’t do what’s right, but do what’s owed. How effective is the politician at figuring out whom he owes. Senator Carlson didn’t do what was owed, but sought to do what was right. This made him unique and a political liability. On Daniel Carlson’s bad days, he still held the conviction that even if he wasn’t making a difference, he was trying to advocate for what he believed. So Daniel endured the state-by-state whirlwind tours where he advocated his No child left behind—for real speech. In Wisconsin, Senator Carlson gave his Social Security: The train is coming speech. Daniel Carlson emphasized medical research to stop breast cancer, a cancer that can be cured with a commitment of dedication and resources. Daniel believed that if breast cancer occurred in men more frequently, society would already have a cure. These speeches inspired Daniel to think about what government’s role is in our society. Government must be the strong infrastructure, but not the foundation of society. This meant government should create opportunities for society so a strong economy, educated children, and health care for all can be the usual way. The United States should lead the world by example. Daniel Carlson resented the fact that children lived in poverty, weren’t being educated and cared for, and yet the government considers it a victory when it sends a poor, uneducated, sick boy, who didn’t have opportunities, to prison for the rest of his life. Pay now, or pay later, well America feels better paying later, second only to the plan of: do nothing until we’re in a crisis.
Peter Spark didn’t love Daniel Carlson because he strove for what was right, but by loyalty. Spark lived for the mission, needed the mission. His mission was moving Senator Carlson to increased power. Daniel let Peter Spark have his own independent power and authority. With that loyalty and love, Peter Spark made a promise to himself: to make Daniel Carlson President of the United States. That’s why Peter Spark was willing to put together secret slush fund money of millions of dollars and spend $500,000 for an encryption code from BMI. BMI didn’t know it, except for the employee who gave it to an agent of Peter Spark’s. Peter gave it to Bradford, who in turn had the Geeks use it in their work, still not knowing exactly what they were being asked to accomplish. Peter Spark knew the Geeks would figure it out soon enough. The Geeks could access various large scale computer counters and the next step would be to alter their data from a distance without getting caught. At this point, having the encryption code to break into a specific type of computer, is like getting into a man’s office and look around. There was still the matter of getting into his locked filing cabinet, and that was where Peter Spark wanted. Inside the filing cabinet, where Peter could really make a difference. Peter was grateful. When Peter felt grateful, he became a big tipper. For Bradford, Peter connected him to a high-level lobbyist in Washington State who got Bradford involved in politics. Bradford appreciated it very much and was building his political power. On a car ride with Dale Boatly an original employee and shareholder of Symantec hooked up one of Bradford’s friend with a sizeable contribution for a State Senate race. Goode was given a promotion at BMI and was now in charge of the software development, remote link technology department. And since Hawkins actually was able to apply the encryption code from a remote location in a test exercise, Peter gave him a taste of the ultimate prize, revenge.
Peter knew a couple of guys from Naval Intelligence, specialists for this type of assignment. Peter knew the agent since he was a twenty-year-old operative in Vietnam, but the agent still had his good looks. The agent got to know General Speiser, and once the intelligence gathering on Speiser was done, the agent moved to his wife. Learned all about her, when she woke up. She jogged for an hour in her suburban Bethesda neighborhood. By the time she made her way home her General husband was already gone for work. She then showered and met a girlfriend for coffee. That’s when the agent met her for the first time. Sherry Speiser’s friend Suzie’s car didn’t start that morning, her battery was disconnected. The AAA guy figured out the problem within minutes, but it took him three hours to get there. So Sherry met the agent, a handsome man who knew how to talk to bored desperate housewives. It took only a week before Sherry invited the agent into her house in Bethesda. The General was away from dawn to dusk. She was ignored and she resented it. At this stage in her husband’s career, Sherry was irrelevant. The agent learned more about the General than Peter even wanted to know. And besides taking her panties, he took a letter opener off the General’s desk. It was a letter opener given to him by President Nixon. It was unique enough to convince the General that the agent was in his house.
General Speiser drove home from the Pentagon at 10:00 p.m. after a long day. On his way home, for seemingly no explicable reason, a man ran General Speiser off the road on Huntington Wilson Lane. The General was shocked and didn’t understand what he had done to provoke this crazy driver. The slender man walked over to Speiser’s car and helped him open the door.
“What the fuck is your problem!” The General screamed. The General noticed a moon tattoo on the back of the man’s left hand. The calm slender man stared at the General and pushed him back to the driver’s seat when he tried to stand up. The man was another friend of Peter Spark. His nickname was “Joe,” but his real name was Han, Chinese. Han with a flick of the wrist elongated a telescopic asp baton and cracked the General across his left ankle as he pinned the General’s foot to the asphalt with his own foot. Han was convinced he had broken the General’s ankle, but had instructions to do more. Han took the General’s letter opener and planted it right into his broken foot. The General was really screaming now. Han at last took out a pair of panties from his back pocket, which Han discovered had the monogram SAS on them, and tossed them. They landed on the General’s lap. Han’s last words, in a strong Chinese accent, before he sped off: “Clean up your blood with that.” Peter granted justice for all, for Hawkins and Mrs. Speiser too.
CHAPTER 19
Election Day
Eugene Hawkins also became enamored with Daniel Carlson, but didn’t know that he was working for Carlson up until this moment. What a joy of convergence that was about to occur when Hawkins realized that his work would make sure that the man he idolized was President. Hawkins, among his other obscure views, was for free internet and legislation for open source code for all online software. There was talk of taxing the internet and stricter intellectual property laws in the U.S. Having internal barrier chips in computers, which would send information to the government about usage on the internet. Hawkins thought it was Orwellian and intellectual obstructionism. No one understood the internet as well as Hawkins. Hawkins knew the world could communicate, market, express, and convey through the world of computers. With the right President, at a critical time, it could all be for the world to take. A marketplace of socialistic intellectualism. So Hawkins flew to Washington, D.C.
Bradford was sitting in the lounge area of the only place that had a really
good panoramic view of the City of Fort Lauderdale. Reception was key by computer, and for whatever reason, Bradford determined, he had to be high. Within minutes, Peter Spark told Bradford on a cellular phone, you need high and facing the railroad tracks. Broward County’s votes were being counted at a building on SW 6th Avenue. A local politician told Peter, who then told Bradford: “Go to the Tower Club.”
The Tower Club is sort of a stiff place. A member has to be wearing a jacket to walk in. Bradford wore a jacket, but had a computer under his arm—a high-powered computer. Even the most fervent techie who goes to the computer-electronic trade show in Las Vegas wouldn’t even know what was going on in Bradford’s laptop. But Bradford needed reception. Tonight, Bradford was going to become a very powerful man. He knew Peter Spark as a grateful and powerful man, and Bradford knew what he was about to do. Daniel Carlson had no idea, because he was so close to winning or losing the presidency, that Peter Spark had lost his nerve. Peter wanted to win, was sure Daniel could win, but didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
It’s the same theory of the cold war. The Soviets had nuclear weapons; the Soviets were going to use them. Well Peter won the software wars. The Geeks discovered long distance election hacking faster than the Democrats, and now the Florida election will be won at the Tower Club. It’s amazing, Peter Spark was extremely attuned to winning elections. He knew that Daniel had to win Florida. He knew Daniel had to be close enough in Florida that the number of electoral votes will tip in Daniel Carlson’s favor to win in Florida and the rest of the country. Peter couldn’t pick a state with too few electoral votes. He couldn’t pick a State where Daniel was expected to lose by a large margin, because it would draw suspicion.
But thank goodness, Florida was great. Florida was still on the chad system. Peter had the chad software mastered. Broward didn’t have the scantron system working; it had punch-out cards. It was perfect. Even if there was a recount, who the hell would know how or why the computers doing the counting were considering a vote. There would be no scandal, no indictments. But Peter didn’t plan to get caught. Daniel just needed to win by enough, and that would be enough. Florida was an early return, it was all about Eastern Standard Time to send a message that this election was wrapped up, and yes, the Senator from Florida won Florida, despite all the media pundits trying to make it a horse race.
Bradford took the elevator to the top floor of some bank building that changes names so much even Peter couldn’t get a straight answer on the name of it from the head of the Broward Republican Party. Bradford rode up twenty-eight floors. His ears popped as the silver elevator doors opened. He stepped out onto the marble floors. He walked through the heavy doors, not looking at the woman sitting behind the desk to the left. Bradford acted like he belonged and thought it would be sufficient. He was wearing an Armani suit with one of Goode’s Gucci belts and Duchamp cufflinks. The receptionist didn’t give him a second look.
It was a Tuesday, not a busy night for the club, but that could mean he would be noticed, and helped by someone from the staff. Bradford sat in a soft leather chair nearest the glass window that separated the inside from the outside. Bradford could see north as far as his eye could go. He noticed the bar on the other end of the room. The bartender dug into the ice bucket, and made a drink. Bradford looked around quickly and then opened up his laptop and began hacking; hacking into the Voting Executive Center—the VEC. That’s where the votes were. Bam, there it was, right there on the screen, Bradford could watch the numbers of votes being calculated. Bradford was deep in thought.
“Would you like something to drink?” A waitress with a gray vest and bow tie asked.
“Oh no, I’ll wait for the rest of the group, thank you.” With a nod, the waitress was gone.
Bradford was clacking away on his laptop. It was apparent he wasn’t getting past the first level of encryption because he wasn’t getting a good connection. So, he stood up and the reception slightly improved.
Bradford walked out of the bar area and down the narrow hall, which was lined with wine- filled racks on each side. He looked down at his screen and saw that the reception was even better. A maitre d’ looked at Bradford with a smile. He looked down for a moment to notice the open laptop in Bradford’s hands.
“Can I help you sir? Are you a member?”
“Actually, I’m looking for Mr. Ferrero.” Bradford replied.
“Oh, I haven’t seen him yet,” the maitre d’ replied. “I don’t see his name down with a reservation.”
“I think he’s just going to meet me for a drink. If it’s not too busy in that corner, I was wondering if I can just take a quick look at the view. Please?”
“That’ll be fine for a friend of Mr. Hamaway. But only for a moment.”
Bradford was nervous he wasn’t going to be allowed in. He walked briskly to the right, and noticed no one was there eating at a table. He didn’t sit. He held the computer in his left hand and typed with his right. This was the spot. There was no better place in Fort Lauderdale for this type of reception. Within moments, the chad encryption got Bradford into the vote-counting machine. Daniel Carlson was sure to win in Broward County.
Ohio had an even more vulnerable system. The voting system in Ohio used a scantron code. Goode paid off the chief programmer at the company. It’s the ultimate backdoor. No one in the whole scantron company knew about how to crack the code other than the programmer. Goode taught the chief programmer in graduate school, and they were simpatico. Simpatico plus money and alcohol, equals loose talk. The key to getting more votes for one candidate, the backdoor, is voting for all candidates in the first four races. Then in the fifth race, vote for the Republican and Daniel Carlson will get a boost in the number of votes by ten percent. Simple. Goode moved to Ohio and registered to vote. And William Goode voted. He voted for Daniel Carlson for President, once, but made it count many times.
Eugene Hawkins was dressed like a combat-ready photojournalist, complete with vest-jacket equipped with a large sleeve in the back of a jacket for his laptop computer. Hawkins turned in his black thick framed glasses and got himself a modern silver frameless German Luxor. He cut his hair like a Marine entering boot camp. Hawkins felt he was on a mission. He knew his mission was for a man he believed in. He knew Daniel Carlson was for a free internet and unrelenting belief for a national commitment to education, research and development in the field of technology.
Candice Kostinakas was one of Washington’s best unknown known call girls. She never said anything about anyone. Discretion, a rare and perfect quality for a girl, and more particularly for this election night. Candice was a Greek goddess. She was five-foot-eleven. Long dark curls started from the top of her scalp and went five inches past her shoulders. Thick natural red ruby lips. Smooth fair skin. Perfect double-C breasts, also natural. She was smart and knew something about many different subjects. She could talk about the makeup of the Supreme Court, with surprising detail; it could make one wonder if she knew some of them. She could talk about the 1987 New York Giants. She could also talk about China, which was the only fact, that Peter Spark didn’t like. But she was the best for other reasons. Peter still wasn’t taking any chances. You could take her to a motorcycle bar or a ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate political dinner. She made every man feel she could be the perfect wife. She was so appropriate and didn’t have to play a part tonight. She only had to get a room, do her thing, and be gone.
Hawkins walked into the lobby of the Watergate Hotel. She blended better than he did. Candice recognized Hawkins’s description. She didn’t know his name. He didn’t say.
“Candice?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get a key to the room?” Hawkins demanded.
“Yes, but there’s a small problem,” Candice said with some hesitation. She prided herself on details, and making things one-hundred percent perfect.
“What is it?”
“Th
e suite you requested is occupied. Can it be another room?”
Hawkins, knowing he needed the best reception possible for his laptop said, “No, it has to be that suite.” Candice didn’t question why that particular suite was of such importance. With that response, Candice pulled out a keycard to the suite.
“They’ll be gone all night. But my connection at the desk will call to the room if they come back early,” Candice said.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Candice wrapped her arm around Eugene Hawkins’s arm as they walked to the elevator. Once they were in the suite, Hawkins put his jacket on a chair and kept the computer in the back pocket of the jacket. The best call girl in Washington placed Eugene Hawkins on the suite’s king size bed and connected to him like no woman ever had. She gave him a sexual experience that distracted Eugene Hawkins’s thoughts about computers and an expanding internet for the first time in years. She was a pro. When she was done, she said: “Take the key with you, and don’t be too long.” With a deep sigh, Eugene Hawkins dressed and clicked on his computer. He was amazed that the chad software program worked so well and had to give Bradford credit for putting this whole thing together. Within moments, Daniel Carlson got a few extra votes and got the much needed electoral votes in Maryland, Washington, D.C. and Virginia.
In the post-coital resolution and election rigging, Hawkins celebrated in his mind, as he heard the door to the suite open. Hawkins’s heart shocked into a panic. He closed his computer as he slid underneath the bed where he had just spent exhilarating moments. Where was the phone call from downstairs? Hawkins hid under the bed for hours. Hawkins figured out the two lovers inches above his head were running an undercover operation of their own. He was a Senator from Arizona, and she was his mistress. He knew Daniel Carlson was elected President before the couple lying on top of him fell asleep, and he could saunter out of the room undetected.
By Silent Majority Page 20