by T. F. Jacobs
“There’s a woman with us. She’s not safe.”
The driver looks to Jones in the rearview mirror.
I pull out my phone and dial Aly, putting her on speaker.
The car approaches a roundabout.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Aly, are you safe?”
“I’m not sure. I’m on foot, but I think I’m being followed.”
I look to Jones.
“Okay,” he says. The driver nods, then turns right.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” Her breathing is labored. “I went the opposite way you did.”
“Aly, these men are armed and they aren’t with Connelly and Jones. We’re coming back for you. Do you see any stores or restaurants?”
Background noise fills the phone.
“Starbucks. There’s a Starbucks.”
“Good, go inside. Make sure people see you.”
“Okay.”
More background noise.
“Starbucks near Pershing Park,” I say to the driver.
He nods.
We make another turn, and soon we’re back on the highway flying past cars, weaving in and out of traffic.
“I’m in. He followed me inside,” Aly says. Her voice is almost a whisper.
If they’re in public, they won’t shoot her, will they? But then again, they were willing to shoot us in a crowded space in broad daylight.
“Get in line. Stay close to other people.”
“Okay.”
We turn off the interstate, and move back onto the city streets. I recognize some of the modern office buildings on either side of us.
“Be there in one minute,” the driver says.
“Aly, when we say go, run out to the car. Try to make a scene.”
“Okay.”
We make another turn, and now we’re back alongside Pershing Park.
I see the Starbucks a block ahead.
We speed past trees and benches, and I scan the park for the men, but we’re going too fast to focus.
“Almost there,” I say into the phone.
“He’s watching me. He’s at the door,” she whispers.
She’s trapped. What should we do? Is she safer staying inside the Starbucks?
Suddenly, the SUV comes to an abrupt stop.
Starbucks is on our right. I can see dozens of people inside through the window. There’s a man with his back to us behind the door.
“Aly, go!”
A loud scream erupts through the phone. I pull my hand away from my ear.
My eyes dart to the Starbucks. People are moving frantically, but I can’t see why.
The next second the door bursts open, and Aly leaps out. She spots the car.
Now I can hear her screaming both on the phone and outside the car.
Dozens of people are staring.
She runs toward the car.
“Front door,” I shout, unsure if she can hear me over the screaming.
The man at the door runs after her, only a few feet away.
“Hurry!”
She hits the front door and I reach around the front seat to open it.
The man jumps toward her at the same second Aly hurdles inside. He grabs her leg and she nearly falls. The driver clutches at her arm, then pulls hard.
Our wheels nearly burn out, then propel us forward, the door still open.
The man slams hard into my window.
And before I can even see what happens to him, we speed off.
Aly pulls the door closed.
We accelerate away, lost in the city traffic.
“Is someone going to explain to me what is going on?” Connelly shouts.
Something has been gnawing at the back of my mind, and I finally realize what it is.
During the conversation we had with Rob and Alex before Alex went AWOL, I implied that Jones may have had something to do with Lincoln’s disappearance, but Rob insisted otherwise. He said there was an unspoken rule between lobbyists and politicians that the lobbyists are the ones who need to do what they can to keep their dealings quiet.
I turn to Jones. “Did you ever meet with a man named Lincoln from the Inner Medical Association?”
He looks confused. Unsure. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Why?”
If this is all an act, then bravo to Connelly and the Speaker, because it’s well played.
“He was supposed to meet with you a few months back, but he went missing.”
The Speaker frowns. “Now that I think about it, I was supposed to have a meeting with the Inner Medical Association a few months back, but they never showed.”
“And have you had anyone deported in the last couple days?”
He laughs.
When he sees that I’m not joking, he stops.
“Of course not. That isn’t in my jurisdiction.”
His answers may seem too convenient, but I feel he’s telling the truth. His body language shows it. I should have looked for the signs earlier in the park when I asked him if the men were theirs, but I was too distracted. In law school we learned to look for dozens of small signals that can reveal if someone is lying. Eye twitches, lip movements, face flushes, quick stutters. But he shows none of the signs.
The connections were right in front of my nose—I just didn’t want to believe it. The more convenient solution was to blame Jones and Connelly.
Lincoln went missing when he was supposed to meet with Jones. Brit being deported had to come from the government. Dominique is dead and Alex was turned—these actions had to be some sort of government op. And we just so happened to have blackmailed the majority whip, Jones’s right-hand man.
But there was another side we didn’t see. Lincoln went missing before the meeting with Jones. Brit could have been turned in to immigration by anyone, including her employer. And Dominique’s death wasn’t a government op, it was a private hit.
Plus there are things I can’t explain. Like Stan’s photos leaking, and the fact that the first course of action had been to try and kill us rather than arrest us.
It’s all so clear now.
It was American True Care all along. American True Care was in cahoots with the Inner Medical Association. There was even a bill I presented to Senator Ford that talked about the government subsidizing one of two insurance companies: Inner Medical or American True Care.
But the question is how? How did they figure me out as a potential whistle-blower? And how’d they know we were in DC? Are they watching me? Listening to me? How long have they known? And how did they find out about the others? My head spins with questions.
“It’s not them,” I say. My eyes are on Evan. Aly turns around. “It wasn’t ever them.”
“Of course it wasn’t us. Killing one of your friends? Trying to have you killed in broad daylight? You thought that Joe and I were capable of something like that?” Connelly asks.
I picked the wrong enemy. Sure, I have some very incriminating information that Connelly and Jones don’t want to get out, but they aren’t the problem I want to expose. The only reason Connelly put forward my bill was because he was blackmailed. He wouldn’t even take a bribe.
The car decelerates off the freeway. Grassy plains ahead of us. I have no clue where we are headed, and I don’t know if Jones and Connelly do either.
I don’t even know what to say. I’m still struggling to figure out how this could have happened. To salvage anything we have left.
And what do we do now? Wait until they find us again? Until they kill us in our sleep?
The car slows to a stop in an empty parking lot in front of a grassy park. The driver looks back through the rearview mirror.
Jones nods.
All four of us are still crammed into the back seat.
I open my door, not sensing any danger in the empty field at our side.
I climb out. Evan opens his door too. Jones gets out behind me and leans against the car.
“So let me get this straight.
You guys thought that we were trying to kill you, and you thought you’d blackmail us into keeping you alive?” Jones asks.
He lets out a loud laugh. Like it’s one of the craziest things he’s ever heard in his life.
And truthfully, it probably is.
“Yup. But I had it wrong. It wasn’t you who was after us. It was American True Care.”
I let the words sink in.
Connelly makes his way around the back of the car, Evan right behind him. Aly opens her door too.
“And why would the company you work for want to kill you?” Connelly asks.
“Because I’m trying to expose them. To show the public how badly they’ve been taken advantage of by politicians and healthcare companies alike.”
And now he gets it. He raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“Can you protect us?” Aly asks. She’s looking at Connelly. “Can you catch these men who are after us?”
Connelly looks over to Jones. They exchange a look that tells me they know something.
“Look,” Jones starts. He turns to Evan. “Off the record, we may be able to protect you, but you’ll never be able to catch American True Care in the act, if it is truly them trying to kill you.”
What is he saying? That American True Care will just get away with this?
“We’ve heard of similar situations in the past, but most of the time we don’t ever catch the guys who commit the crimes. These guys are careful. They avoid detection and typically never see their day in court. They’re often men we can’t properly identify, with false IDs and information. The ones we do catch aren’t ever linked to the lobbyists that hired them. When you are as powerful as a company like American True Care, you can afford the absolute best, and you can also be sure their accounting departments will have a field day making sure it stays hidden.”
“You are saying that we’re just supposed to look the other way? That murders go unnoticed, because these companies are too big, and their hitmen are too good? Are you hearing yourself?” Evan snaps.
I’m about to chime in, but Connelly opens his mouth to speak.
“Trust me, we don’t like it any more than you. But they won’t get caught. We can try to help you, but I’m telling you, your efforts will be wasted. There’s a better solution.”
I can’t believe my ears. They almost seem as though they want us to simply look the other way.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” I ask.
“Let them buy your silence.”
I scoff. Can’t believe my ears. My silence? As if I’m just supposed to let them get away with it?
“He’s right,” Jones says. “You probably signed an NDA of some sort. Even if you do try to go public, they will sue your ass into another world. And as much money as you can get from interviews and publicity, it won’t be anywhere near enough. They’ll destroy you. Also there’s a lobbyist code of ethics. You’d probably go to jail. Instead, you are better off letting them buy your silence. Millions of dollars each to go your separate ways.”
“Even if we decided to let them buy our silence, as stupid as that sounds, what makes you think they’d go for it? That they wouldn’t have us killed anyway?” Aly asks. She’s not buying it either.
“Because Connelly and I can make a call to set the meeting up. We can even issue an investigation into the murder of your friend if you are willing to play ball with us.”
He’s looking to make a deal. For a second, part of me wonders if he set this whole thing up from the beginning.
“I thought you only had access to the secret service and the NSA,” Evan says.
Jones smiles. “We do. But don’t underestimate the power of the NSA. We can make some calls.”
Evan shakes his head.
“Look. The files you stole don’t do anything for you. You said it yourself—you wanted to expose American True Care and the healthcare industry. Your battle isn’t with Congress. If you let those files out, the entire government would come crashing down. There would be anarchy.”
“Then why do you have them in the first place?” Aly snaps.
“Leverage. Just like you wanted over us. The difference is that we control the chaos, we don’t let it loose.”
These politicians are as dirty as they come, just like the politicians incriminated in the files. And now I see why we don’t trust the government.
But deep down I know he’s right. We won’t be able to connect American True Care to these hitmen. They are notorious for hiding paper trails. It’s the reason Brit couldn’t just hack them for what we needed in the first place. It’s the reason I had to climb the ladder myself: to expose the corruption as it happens. And if we go public with what we have already, it won’t be enough. I can’t win a case. They took our files, and all I have are three videos. One that exposes Senator Ford in bed with me and an intern, one where Rebecca threatens me without much context, and another that shows that Connelly met with me. I can prove he put forward my bill, but that’s it. I can probably prove that Byers put forward my bill as well, but what is that really going to do? It’ll hurt, but it certainly won’t take American True Care down.
American True Care has won.
I look over at Evan and Aly. I can see it in their eyes too.
Defeat.
“How much do you think we can get in a settlement?” I ask. I don’t look up.
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple million each. Enough to be set for quite some time, I’d say,” Jones responds.
I let the silence hang in the air for a long moment. My face is cold, and I want to be anywhere but here.
“Let’s set up the meeting,” I say. I look over to Connelly.
“What?” Aly says.
“They’re right. We don’t have enough to connect the dots. Better off getting the money and leaving the industry forever. Washing our hands of it.”
I can see the disappointment in her eyes. And it’s not even the disappointment in our defeat, but instead it’s her disappointment in me. For giving up.
Connelly nods slowly. “Okay.”
I pull out my BlackBerry to find I’ve missed two calls from Rebecca already.
I dial her back.
It rings once.
“Well look who it is,” a throaty voice says.
“We need to meet, Rebecca,” I reply coldly.
“Oh do we now? I was under the impression that I call the shots. Remember?”
It takes everything I’ve got not to explode.
“I’ve got Congressman Connelly and Speaker Jones with me,” I say. Then I put the phone on speaker mode. “We can all hear you.”
Connelly steps forward. “Hey, Rebecca, we’ll cut the chitchat. I think it may be a good idea to listen to what David has to say. I think you guys may be able to come to a mutually beneficial deal.”
There’s silence on the other end.
“Thanks, Congressman,” she says. “David, why don’t you come back in tomorrow morning at, say, ten a.m.? We’ll have a meeting in the tenth-floor conference room.”
The tenth floor is for executives only. Chief officers and senior management. No one in my department even gets near it. She means business.
“I’ll be there.”
“Great. See you—”
But I hang up before she can finish.
“Trust me. This is the best solution for everyone. I remember you said you lost your wife, and I’m guessing you are upset at the system for it. But the best thing for you is to get your money and wash your hands of it. But I have to ask. Even if you did have enough dirt on them to do some real damage, what did you think was going to happen? There are a hundred million people insured by American True Care and the Inner Medical Association. Something happens to those companies, and all those people lose insurance. Prices go through the roof and hospitals wouldn’t be able to cover anyone. It’d end up causing more problems than it does now.”
I hate him with every word he speaks. But part of me knows he’s right. “Too big to fail,
that it?” I say.
“Those wouldn’t be my words, but all I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be pretty. Doing it this way will be beneficial for everyone.”
“Including you. That right?”
“Well, yes. Like I said, we can even help you investigate the murder of your friend. We already helped set up the meeting with your company. They know we have our eyes on you. Anything goes wrong and you just give us a call.”
Jones steps forward. “We can also arrange a private jet to get you guys home. And as a token of our trust, we won’t even ask for proof that you’ve gotten rid of the files until American True Care offers you a deal. Sound fair?”
He’s using that television voice that won him his votes. And it’s working.
Evan approaches me, then stands inches from my face.
“I think they’re right, big guy. I want to expose this all as much as you do, but we’re in over our head. You’re lucky to be alive. This deal lets you live and lets you live life on your own terms.”
Aly approaches too. “Evan is right,” she says reluctantly. “At least this way we get to live. And you and I can work together on our own to expose it afterward. Just because we take a deal, doesn’t mean we’re done forever.”
I glance over Evan’s shoulder at Jones. They’re both right. They’re all right. I wanted so badly to believe I was coming to DC to expose the industry, once and for all, that killed my Lexi and to expose the company that took advantage of her and so many other innocent people. I wanted to believe that I’d finally figured out a way to make it happen.
But I had it all wrong from the beginning. And now I’m out of options. American True Care won’t get caught. And bringing down Jones and Connelly wasn’t my plan in the first place.
We should take the deal and give ourselves more time. Time to be more careful next time and to work harder to go further.
“Okay, gentlemen. We’ll take that private jet.”
Chapter 17
Royalty isn’t worth shit if you can’t sleep.
The chartered plane came courtesy of one of Jones’s investment firms he started before he became Speaker of the House. I thought first class was nice, but chartered planes take it to another level.
Flutes of champagne, open cockpit, smooth-as-silk flying, beds to lie flat on, big screen televisions, and a stewardess to attend to any needs we may have. It would almost make flying enjoyable, if it weren’t for the fact I feel so defeated.