Untangling the Black Web

by T. F. Jacobs

  “Well I need to get going. Always great, Tim. And David, don’t let Tim work you too hard. He’s not as mean as he lets on.”

  “Thanks, Speaker. Have a great night.”

  “Bye, Joe,” says the congressman. “Think about what I told you.”

  Connelly pats him on the back, and with another big smile, the Speaker strides out the door.

  “I hope you got a chance to enjoy the coffee before it went cold,” I say as Connelly and I stand in the entryway to his office, trying to make conversation.

  “Coffee?”

  His face shows confusion.

  “Yeah, the coffee I brought by earlier. I heard you enjoy it black.”

  I look over at the secretary, who seems to be making it her purpose in life not to meet my eyes.

  “Ah, must have been some sort of mix-up.”

  I notice the cup in the waste bin beside the woman.

  “No big deal.”

  “Well come in. Have a seat inside.”

  I take one more look at the woman, and I know she can feel my glare through the back of her head.

  The congressman closes the door behind me.

  Old wood boards painted white line the walls. An American flag sits behind the dark wood desk, which is beside a plush brown leather chair. A map of the United States hangs on the wall, and three clocks, showing the times in DC, Tokyo, and London, hang on the opposite wall. There’s even a quill on the desk.

  I feel like I’m in the Situation Room from the sixties.

  I can tell he’s a man who respects tradition. Actually, he is tradition. He’s served in Congress since the nineties.

  I immediately pull my phone halfway out of my pocket and press record.

  I scan the room for cameras but don’t see any.

  The congressman must prefer private conversations, which is a major relief.

  He sits back, and the cushion audibly deflates to adjust to his body.

  He gestures to the seat across from him.

  I take it. I straighten my posture, then smile.

  I wait for him to speak, but he stays silent. I learned in law school that the first one to speak is the first to give up the power in a room. It looks like he may have attended a similar lecture.

  “Thank you for seeing me today, Congressman,” I finally say, breaking the silence.

  He seems to relax.

  “You bet, son.”

  Son? Is he being polite? Or degrading?

  “I suppose I should get right to it. American True Care has a proposal we think would be of great benefit to you and your constituents.”

  He raises his eyebrows lazily. He’s bored. For all I know, I’m the fifth lobbyist he’s met today. I need to stand out. Get his attention.

  “I’m going to cut the shit. We have—”

  He raises his hand to cut me off. “Son, please don’t curse. I’m a Texas Christian, and I don’t care much for language. If you are just another lobbyist who thinks a bribe is the way to win me over, then we can end this meeting right now.”

  His eyes are fixed on me.

  Shit. This isn’t the start I needed.

  “Sorry, sir. I apologize. And no, I am not here to bribe. I can assure you of that.”

  This is not promising. How am I supposed to get anything incriminatory on a congressman who insists on no bribery?

  Suddenly his desk phone springs to life.

  He grabs it.

  “Yeah?”

  He nods as mumbles can be heard on the other end.

  “Tell him he knows exactly what I will do if he doesn’t sign off. Give him till noon tomorrow.”

  He slams the phone down.

  “Sorry,” he says as he looks at me.

  I continue. “We have a bill that will bring down healthcare premiums for working-class Americans while also working to ensure more Americans in general are covered.”

  “What’s the downside?”

  Straight to the point. This guy means business.

  I’m teetering on whether I should be straight with him.

  I take a long inhale through my nostrils, filling my lungs with air.

  “Deductibles go up for some. Cost of procedures for the uninsured go up.”

  He looks from me to the map on the wall.

  Then he swivels to face the window.

  Silence.

  Maybe that wasn’t the approach I should have taken.

  Ten more seconds and he finally turns back around.

  “You know why I like America?”

  My head bobs back just slightly from the offbeat question.

  “Why’s that, Congressman?”

  His eyes fix on mine, and he’s about to answer when his phone rings, breaking the silence.

  He brings it to his ear.

  “Yes . . . If you want my support keeping your seat, you will sign it.”

  He hangs up before the other end can answer.

  Was that another congressman?

  He looks back at me.

  “Sorry about that. Nature of the business.” He pauses. “Where was I?”

  “Why you like America?” I say.

  “Oh yes. Because people can make their own decisions.”

  I think about his words.

  If he has a point to this, I certainly can’t see it.

  I wait.

  “You a Republican, David?”

  My lips curl up into a half smile. I flush.

  “I’d say I’m in the middle. I prefer to keep my options open. Work with both sides.”

  He lifts his chin in approval.

  “Hmm.”

  He doesn’t say anything. Maybe his chin lift wasn’t approval after all.

  Then he continues. “The reason I ask is because I want to know if you can truly appreciate what lower premiums means.”

  Here we go. Time to woo him.

  “I can, sir. It means more money in the pockets of those that need it. More money spent on the economy. Which means more jobs.”

  I know I’m speaking his language. And he’s eating it up.

  “Precisely. So what happens to the poor and uninsured when their costs go up?”

  I calculate my response.

  “Insurance becomes affordable for some of them. And for those that can’t afford it, we’ve already got the American True Care subsidized low-income program. The difference is that fewer people will need it, and more will qualify for these low-cost programs.”

  His hand rises to his chin. His eyelids close. He’s either thinking, or I’ve put him to sleep.

  He rubs his chin some more, mulling it over.

  “I like you,” he says.

  “Thank you, Congressman. I like you too.”

  “I’ll look over the bill on my own time. Like I said, I don’t do bribes, and American True Care knows that. That’s why they usually don’t mess around with overasking when it comes to me.”

  He reaches his hand out.

  I rush to grab the envelope from under my seat and set it in his hand.

  Suddenly a knock at the door interrupts us.

  “Come in,” he shouts.

  The door swings open.

  His secretary appears.

  “What is it, Sandra?”

  “Mr. Higgins’s assistant is here. Shall I send her in?”

  What the hell? My assistant?

  “I think you—” I cut myself off when I see a woman in the doorway.

  Huh?

  She smiles politely, with rosy pink cheeks. Her hair’s pulled up into a bun with chopsticks poking through the sides again. She’s wearing a black dress with a red pea coat. It’s Aly.

  But what the heck is she doing here?

  “David, I apologize for being late. I got caught in traffic because of this crazy storm,” she says.

  My mind is spinning.

  Computing.

  Quickly I turn back to the congressman. “Sorry. I didn’t know if she was going to make it in time. Do you mind?”

  His gaze
is fixed on the woman. I can’t tell whether he’s sizing her up because he’s attracted to her, or because he’s trying to decide what her motives might be. I’m leaning toward the latter.

  “I suppose. I thought we were about done though?” he asks.

  “Just about. Come in, Aly,” I call.

  She does.

  “Congressman, Kurt at the front said there’s a woman here for me. Probably just my sister. Mind if I go down to see?” Sandra asks from the doorway.

  “Not a problem, Sandra.”

  She nods, then slides the door shut.

  The congressman stands. Offers his hand.

  Still dumbfounded, it takes me a moment to stand as well.

  “I’m Aly Fushinara. Pleasure to meet you, Congressman.”

  “Likewise.”

  He gestures for her to sit. We all take our seats.

  He’s watching her. Clearly this wasn’t something he anticipated.

  “So,” she announces. “Did you two get a chance to review the bill?”

  “We did, thank you, Aly.”

  I look at her and raise my eyebrows to signal to her that I have no fucking clue what she is doing here.

  I don’t know what to say. How am I supposed to explain her presence? I’m sure the expression on my face looks something like it would if I saw an ape eating the Loch Ness Monster. Something I wouldn’t have fathomed in a million years.

  “Um,” I start, as I look from the congressman back to Aly, then back to the congressman. “I apologize, Congressman, would you mind if Aly and I stepped out into the waiting area for a quick moment. I didn’t think she was going to make it, so I want to make sure we are on the same page.”

  He looks to the clock on the wall.

  “I don’t have much time.”

  I interrupt. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

  I stand before he can reply, and then Aly does the same.

  I open the door for her. Then I raise my right index finger to the congressman to signal to him this will just be a second.

  He sighs loudly. Angrily.

  The door closes.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper. My panic isn’t masked.

  She better have a damn good reason.

  “Brit sent us this morning. She said this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” she whispers back.

  “What? Why would she do that? I had it under control. You are just putting him on edge. This whole thing is going to unravel. And what do you mean us?”

  “Forget about the deal. This isn’t about that anymore. She wants to get inside his laptop. Dominique is the woman at the front. She’s distracting security and the assistant. Alex is outside the door, dressed as maintenance. He can help make sure the plan works correctly and run lookout.”

  I let out a nose laugh. Is this real? If it is, then they must be out of their minds.

  “So, what? Connelly’s just going to hand us his laptop?”

  She looks down, then reaches into her purse. She pulls out a makeup bag and unzips it.

  She holds something up, then angles her hand so that I can see inside.

  Something glints from the light above us.

  I peer closer.

  A needle?

  A syringe? I must be seeing it wrong.

  “It’s a sedative. A heavier version of Valium called Burgozone.”

  “What the fuck!” I exclaim. My whisper is so loud it’s probably audible from inside. “How the hell did you even get that through security?”

  She zips the bag back up.

  “I had it in pieces throughout my purse. I put it together in the bathroom. Alex got it from his pharmacy early this morning. But he said he wasn’t comfortable administering it since pharmacists don’t really do that.”

  My brain is pulsing. My eyes fuzzy. Heart throbbing.

  This is absolute insanity.

  My blood is boiling. I can’t tell whether I’m more startled or pissed.

  “Why didn’t Brit tell me about these plans? And why isn’t she here?”

  “She couldn’t get off work. Something about being too risky with her visa. She didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to chicken out.”

  I stare.

  What is Brit doing? She’s not in charge of this—I am. She needs to run things by me before she decides to put anything in motion. Our whole case could go up in flames if we aren’t careful.

  Plus, this is insane. Sedate a congressman? Not just any congressman but the majority whip, for Christ’s sake. And in his office. A federal building!

  Also this version of Aly in front of me seems far different from the one I thought I had met. That Aly seemed timid, afraid. This Aly is confident with clear purpose.

  “This is crazy. I have the deal done. We need to finish it.”

  “David,” she says. She grabs my hands, then leans in closer. Too close. No one is allowed this close besides Lexi.

  I pull back, but she grips harder.

  Her eyes are inches from mine.

  “That computer will be far bigger than any deal you could possibly do with him. Think about it. What other opportunity will we have for finding documentation on political deals with lobbyists and on who knows what else from someone this high up? Trust me, I’m the one about to sedate the congressman.”

  My eyes dart to the door. She looks too.

  She releases my hands.

  I breathe.

  Is she right?

  I close my eyes and focus.

  She’s right. The information he might hold on his computer could be bigger than any deal I can make with him.

  Way bigger.

  I open my eyes.

  “Okay.”

  She smiles. Puts her hand on my shoulder.

  “But no sedative. That will only make things worse. The deal will fall through, and I’ll lose my position.”

  She considers it. “The sedative was Brit’s idea. We cannot get caught hacking his computer, and I need ten minutes to get it done. You have another idea?”

  “Yeah, I’ll try to get him outside his office. Schmooze him. Pretend you have a call. And make sure Alex is on lookout, because you’re right. We can’t get caught.”

  I give her my cell number.

  She thinks about it. “If he starts to suspect anything, I have to administer it.”

  This plan is sure to fail, but there are no other options.

  “Fine.”

  She reaches for the door. If she’s nervous, it doesn’t show.

  I swallow the lump in my throat, then follow her inside.

  Chapter 9

  The congressman looks impatient. He’s ready to end this. I shut the door behind me, then proceed back to my seat. I can feel the beads of sweat dripping down my torso and back. Even my palms feel clammy.

  I put on a face and smile to try to ease his worries.

  I look to Aly and see her eyes locked onto the congressman’s. And his on hers.

  “Congressman, can we go for a walk? Just you and I?” I ask.

  He tilts his head.

  “Why don’t we finish up here.” It’s a statement.

  “It’ll be worth your while, I promise. I find that discussions are always better when they aren’t had behind desks. I saw a coffee stand in the lobby.”

  He narrows his eyes. Considers.

  “Five minutes. I need to get going soon.”

  “Perfect.”

  He stands and puts on his coat as he makes his way around the desk.

  Aly leans in to my ear. “We need ten minutes,” she whispers.

  The congressman walks toward me.

  I look down at my watch. It’s 4:41.

  “I have a call to make, do you guys mind if I wait here?” Aly says.

  He looks from her to me, hesitant.

  “Actually could you—” He starts to reply, but before he can finish, Aly raises her phone to her ear, then holds up a finger to him.

  He wants to say something, but Aly has
already turned around, and she’s pretending to be in a conversation. Clever move.

  “Fine,” he finally concedes. “But please don’t touch anything.”

  Aly turns her head slightly and nods to signal she got his message, then continues talking into the phone. The congressman reaches for the door and steps out. I take one last look at Aly, who gives me a quick eyebrow raise, telling me she’s ready, and then I close the door behind me.

  We make our way out of the office and back down the hall to the elevator. His pace is fast. Too fast.

  I notice an overweight man in a navy-blue maintenance suit who turns toward us, and then I see his face. Alex. The pencil-mustached, balding man is smiling a toothy, nervous grin.

  “Hello there,” he says cheerily to Connelly. Connelly simply nods then continues on. Alex’s eyes focus on me as our shoulders nearly touch, and when I’m sure Connelly isn’t looking, I give Alex a quick tilt of my head toward the office. He smiles, then continues on.

  I goddamn hope he understands that I’m telling him to go find Aly. We can’t afford for anything in this last-minute plan to go wrong.

  We’re at the elevators in no time. Connelly presses the button, impatient.

  I break the silence. “You seem to be in pretty good shape. What’s your secret, Congressman?”

  In the art of deal making, a little flattery never hurts.

  And I can see it’s working, because his pale face flushes.

  “I try to run in the mornings. Six miles.”

  “Incredible,” I say.

  The elevator doors open. He’s silent again, and the flattery was short lived. I need to reel him in. Get him to sympathize with me. To connect. He steps inside, and I glance down the hall to see Alex in front of Connelly’s office, waiting for me to disappear. A second later I do.

  “I used to run with my wife,” I continue.

  He presses the button for the lobby, then looks at me.

  “Used to?”

  I take a deep breath. This wasn’t something I wanted to bring up, but I know his wife passed away a year ago.

  “She passed away.”

  I exhale. This time I’m not acting. My chest feels heavy. And I hold back the moisture in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry. You seem young. Do you mind me asking how it happened?”

  I’ve got him. He’s finally the one asking the questions. But it hurts to answer.

  “Cancer. Spinal cancer. About a year ago she started getting pains, actually on our honeymoon of all times. Six months later she was diagnosed, and a couple weeks ago she lost the battle.”