The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology

by Jake Devlin

  Pam thought for a moment and then said, “Why, no, suh, ah don't.”

  “In the North, it begins with 'Once upon a time'; in the South, it's 'Y'all ain't gonna bleeve this shit.'”

  Pam laughed, a deep belly laugh, and her taut stomach rippled, which, naturally enough, pulled Jake's attention away from her face.

  “Oh, god, I love that one.”

  “You can just call me Jake.”

  Pam laughed even harder.

  “Just don't call me Stevie Bruce.”

  At that, Pam was totally gone. She lowered her feet to the sandy bottom, brought her hands up to her mouth and alternately cackled and snorted. Jake, of course, got caught up and started laughing along.

  Half a minute later, a harsh nasal voice intruded. “What's so funny?” Jake and Pam both swiveled in the water to see who it was.

  “Inside joke, Sonya. Private conversation,” Jake said.

  “Oh. So, Jake, have you thought about --”

  “Private conversation, Sonya.”

  “But I --”

  “Private conversation,” Jake said, a little more sharply.

  “But --”

  “What part of 'private' don't you understand, Sonya? Go.”

  “All right, all right.” Sonya glared at Jake as she moved away.

  Pam finally controlled herself and said, “What was that about?”

  “That's Sonya, the Blabberator of the Beach. If you let her get started, she'll talk your ears off. She's very bright, but she can go on and on on the same subject beyond anyone's ability to listen.”

  Jake moved closer to Pam, adding, “And she has some vision problems, so she gets much closer to people than they like, to the point that they get really uncomfortable.”

  Pam stayed where she was and let Jake get very close. “You mean she invades people's personal space?”

  “You got it.”

  “Like you're doing with me right now?” Pam said, smiling.

  “Yup. And like you did with Sergeant … oh, what was his name again?”

  “Oh, right. Umm ... Dooley? Yeah, that was it, Dooley.”

  “Thomas. Poor guy. I don't think he ever knew what hit him.”

  Jake backed away from Pam. “You sure showed some … uh, guts.”

  “I had a badge then, Jake, and some Marines.”

  “Well, I was impressed. Still am. And dealing with those fugitives at the Seafood Shack. You really are a Renaissance woman.”

  “That's the second time you've called me that, Jake.” She took a deep breath and said, “My husband used to say the same thing when he was still alive.”

  “Well, then there's two of us who think alike.”

  Pam was quiet for a moment and then said pensively, almost silently, “You have more than just that in common.”

  “I'm sorry? What?” Jake said.

  Pam blushed. “Just thinking out loud; sorry. Never mind.”

  After a pause, with her eyes still closed, Pam said, “I read that book you're reading, a few years ago. Quite a conspiracy theory.”

  “Yup, if he's got his facts right.”

  “Most of them, he does.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.” She took a deep breath and dropped her feet to the bottom. “Well, I'm ready for a little sun time.”

  “Me, too.” Jake looked at the fingertips on his non-book-holding hand. “Looks like the botox is wearing off.” Pam chuckled and they headed to shore.

  -43-

  Monday, December 19, 2011

  1:30 p.m.

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  Emily escorted the Surgeon General, Adam Corville, MD, and the new Secretary of Health and Human Services, Georgianne “Gigi” Maitlin, into the Oval Office, smiled at Donne, revealing a small bit of parsley stuck between her front teeth, turned around and left.

  “Thanks for coming on such short notice, Doc.

  “Gigi, how are you settling in?”

  “Pretty well, Gordy. Kathy has been mostly very gracious and helpful with the transition, and she'll be staying on till the end of the month to consult.”

  “Good, good. No problems with her politics?”

  “Well, a few philosophical differences, but she seems to be trying to keep them out of the mix. I can handle it.”

  “Good, good. If you need any help with that, just let me know, okay?”

  “Will do, Gordy.”

  “Doc, I trust you're doing okay, as well?”

  “It's an honor that you chose to keep me on, Mr. Donne.”

  “You've done a good job, Adam, and feel free to call me Gordy.”

  “Okay ... Gordy.”

  “Good. Now, you both know I'm unveiling the Medicare plan tonight, give folks a year's notice on how that's going to change and the new choices they'll all have. You've both looked it over, I trust, and I'm wondering if you have any questions or input.”

  Gigi said, “Nothing major from me, Gordy. It's about the way we planned it back at DEI, so I'm clear on it and totally on board.”

  “Doc?”

  “Well, si- – Gordy, I'm generally okay with it all, but I think we need to do more than offer discounts to people who don't smoke and aren't overweight. They need more sticks than carrots, I think. And I thought the bans on indoor and outdoor smoking were good ideas. We've got to put more stringent restrictions on that wherever we can, some more serious behavioral controls, not remove them.”

  “Well, Doc, I realize that's been the way this past administration and the one before it … well, going a long way back, all of them … have tried to deal with things, but that whole philosophy is out, gone, dead and buried.

  “Now, you and your staff can make all the recommendations you want on how to persuade people to quit smoking and eat more healthily … god, that's an awkward phrase … eat healthilier … yeah, I like that better ... and lose weight, but it's got to be through persuasion, not mandates. I am absolutely planning to totally dismantle the nanny state, one mandate at a time, or faster, and if people on the staff can't get with that program in a reasonable amount of time, I'll be looking to replace them, like Kathy over at HHS or all the czars that Obama had.

  “Spirited debates? Fine, love 'em. Intransigent ideological heads in the sand and loud voices farting talking points out their butts? Nope, sorry, not gonna fly.

  “So more carrots and fewer sticks … generally, okay? That's the way to channel our efforts.”

  “What about the warning labels on cigarettes?”

  “No problem with those, if they're informative and realistic, not those graphic images you guys tried to mandate. See the diff?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Now, part of it is just semantics. People get discounts for NOT doing something, not penalties FOR doing something, like with the smoking or with over-eating. That's worked for me for over twenty years at DEI and in all the businesses we resurrected and turned around, so there's a track record there.

  “Now, that doesn't apply in everything. Like you may have taken what I said about replacing people as a threat or a penalty, and in a way you're right to take it that way. But I would rather persuade people to stay on the ship and help steer it in the right direction than make them walk the plank. However, there always IS a plank.”

  “Got it, I think.”

  “Good. Like I said, you've done a pretty good job, other than all that mandate crap.”

  “More carrots, fewer sticks.”

  “Right, right; good. Okay. Anything else?”

  Gigi shook her head. “I'm good, Gordy.”

  “Me, too, I think,” said Adam.

  “Good. So we're done here. Thanks for coming in. Oh, if you want a DVD of this, just check with Alex, okay? Thanks again.”

  After they left, Donne waited two minutes, then buzzed Emily and asked her if she was alone. When she confirmed that she was, he whispered into the intercom, “Check your teeth, okay?”

  There was a pause, and Don
ne heard a gasp over the intercom and then, “Got it, Gordy; shit.”

  “Good, Emily. And if I ever have peanut butter or anything in mine, be sure to let me know, okay?”

  “Will do, Gordy; sorry.”

  “No problem, no problem. I'm back to the speech, but if anything comes up, I'll be available.” He clicked off, picked up his speech and dug back into it. A few minutes later, he pulled out a pocket mirror and checked his own teeth, then continued working on the speech.

  -44-

  Four Months Earlier

  Saturday, August 13, 2011

  11:20 a.m.

  Bonita Beach, Florida

  Jake looked at the fingertips on his non-book-holding hand. “Looks like the botox is wearing off.” Pam chuckled and they headed to shore, Pam leading the way as Jake paused to fill his foot-washing bag.

  As the bottom of her bikini emerged from the water, Jake saw that it was decorated with a large golden heart in the middle of the back.

  “Y'know, Pam, I've heard of women who wear their heart on their sleeve, but ...”

  “I know, Jake, I know. I liked the rest of the suit enough not to worry about that.” She walked over to her beach bag and chair.

  “Is it okay if I sit with you again?”

  “Sure. I'd like that.”

  Once they both got settled in, Pam looked over at Jake and said, “I've got to admit I've had you and your book on my mind for the last month, and I have a whole bunch of questions and ideas. Is that okay with you?”

  “Not in any kind of professional capacity?”

  “Nope; promise. I'm retired, remember? And I'm not spying for some author or publisher, either.”

  “Okay. I've got some questions for you, too; I've thought about you a lot ever since we met. And no, not just because you're gorgeous; I like your brain.”

  “And I like yours.”

  Jake put on his Southern drawl. “Why, thank yuh, ma'am. So y'all just go 'head and fahr them thar questions.”

  Pam chuckled. “Okay.” She pulled out a notebook and flipped it open.

  “Notes, Pam? You've got notes?”

  “Yup. I've got CDO.”

  “CDO?”

  “Yup; it's like OCD, but with the letters in the correct alphabetical order.” Pam emphasized each of the last three words.

  Jake laughed. “Oh, good one.”

  “These are in no particular order, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. First, have you thought about maybe having your guy get rid of the wash sale rule?”

  “Oh, yeah; he does that first thing, along with reinstating the uptick rule. Isn't that in his speech?”

  “I didn't see it there.”

  “Oh, maybe it's just in my manuscript, not online. I think I can stick that in there, maybe tonight.

  “By the way, I did change his name, but I spelled it D-o-n-n-e instead of D-u-n-n; thought the poetic reference might be more interesting.”

  “Oh, cool; I like that. Would make the title a lot easier to say. 'Donne Buys DC' is a whole lot better. I'm not sure that other name would even have fit on a cover.”

  “Yeah. But I kinda liked the silliness of it.”

  “Hey, Jake, how about this? 'The Donne Deal'? What do you think of that for a title?”

  “Oh, I love it, Pam, absolutely love it.” He pulled his notebook and pen out of his bag and wrote excitedly ... well, what passed for excitedly in him. “Beautiful. I may have to give you credit for that.”

  “Oh, no, Jake, no need.”

  “Okay, I'll backburner that. But I DO love that title. How'd you come up with it?”

  “No idea; it just popped up … oh, sometimes we'd say 'It's a done deal' in the Service when we wrapped up a case and passed it on for prosecution; maybe it came from that. Jargon.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “Well, before I get too granular --”

  “Too what?”

  “Granular, down to detail level, like you did with the tax rates.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “I guess I'm wondering how granular you want to get with things like each individual agency, department, program, and so on.”

  “Well, I'm not sure right now. The tax rates and that stuff were pretty granular, weren't they? And boring for the non-wonks. I mean, I sure don't want him to go through each and every nook and cranny of the whole government. I mean, I don't want this to turn into a King-sized novel, just keep it to maybe 300 to 350 pages in all. But I think being too general is … well, is being too general

  “But he will go for efficiencies and consolidations. For example, there are nearly 200 separate programs that serve poor people, each with separate staffing. Will I have him go through each of those and describe what he's doing? Nope. He'll just say something like 'I'll combine those all into a single program and get rid of the duplicate staff, flatten the top-heavy mid- and upper-level bureaucracies and cut out like 80 percent of the red tape.' Does that sound too general?”

  “Hmm. Probably not for most people, but the policy wonks'll want the details. I mean, you'd be talking about programs in lots of different departments, like Agriculture, HHS, Interior, Energy, and a bunch more. It'd take a lot of pages just to list them all. But I think that kind of general statement might be enough.”

  “Yeah, I sure don't want to make it too boring, like just reading through the whole Simpson-Bowles plan. I did that, by the way. For me, it was interesting, and I took a lot of notes, but for somebody who just watches reality TV shows, some sitcoms and those voice and dance competition shows, it'd sure put them to sleep.”

  “Like Debbie Jackson?” Pam smiled.

  “Well, she's a caricature, kind of extreme, but yeah.

  “And there's not only depth and details, but breadth, across all the departments, and I'll tell ya I'm sure glad I'm not actually in the position of digging both down and across and doing what O'Hicken- – I mean Donne is doing.”

  “Oh, for sure. It's just interesting to me to speculate on how he or anyone would or could actually make the changes if they had the chance and power.”

  “Yeah. I feel kinda like he's a dog that's caught a car and can't quite figure out what to do with it now. But I guess I'm really that dog and he's the – oh, what's the word?”

  “Don't know. Ghost dog? Character? Doppelganger?”

  “Nope; it's gone. No idea. Something like 'construct.' But I guess 'character' is close enough – ah, 'alter ego.'

  “I mean, you know I haven't actually written out all those 257 directives he had before his first speech, just kinda pulled that number outa my – outa thin air. I started to write 'em all, of course, but then I figured I'd just bring 'em out as things went along.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Thanks. It's a helluva lot easier on me. But I spent about two weeks working on those, got up to about a hundred of 'em.”

  “Wow, that's a lot of work. Do you still have them?”

  “I'm sure I do, somewhere. But in my house, having and finding are two totally separate issues.”

  “Even on your PC?”

  “Yup. I didn't start off with much organization on – wait a minute; I think I know where I could find 'em, what the file name is.”

  “I would love to see those, if that's okay.”

  “Let me think about that. You're sure you're not spying for some author or publisher?”

  Pam laughed. “Really; promise. Cross my heart.” She made that gesture and Jake's eyes followed, naturally. He paused to breathe, glanced out at the Gulf and then back at Pam … at her eyes.

  “Okay, I have an idea. I think I can find the file and I'll print it out, bring it along and you can look at it with me … as long as you're not using a DS380 or any --”

  “Oh, Jake, I promise, really. But I can understand, and I don't blame you. Tell you what, I'll let you frisk me, check my sunglasses, anything you want, okay?” She paused. “Anything.”

  Jake felt himself blushing und
er his tan, took a deep breath for some control and then laughed and said, back in a Southern accent, “W'al, that's a purty open invite, ain't it, ma'am?”

  Pam, in her own Southern accent, replied, “But ah do mean it sincerely, suh. I'd sho' like fo' y'all to trust me and feel safe and comfy with me.”

  Jake laughed in spite of himself, waggled his eyebrows and said, with no accent, “Okay. I may just take you up on that sometime.”

  “Ah sho' would look fo'rd to that, suh.” She slid out of her chair, lay back on her towel and closed her eyes.

  Jake finally dragged his gaze away from her, picked up his notebook and pen and went back to making notes.

  -45-

  Monday, December 19, 2011

  8:30 p.m.

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  via a 24-hour news channel

  Donne, in his usual casual clothing, smiled at the camera from behind his desk in the Oval Office and held up another sheaf of papers, perhaps four inches thick.

  “Good evening, my fellow Americans. Before I get into the main message I have for you tonight, I want to tell you about another 589 businesses that are moving to or expanding in this country. These are their letters of commitment, which indicate that they'll be creating another 2.4 million jobs by the end of this year. So I believe we're making progress toward the goals I set last week, good progress.

  “On the other hand, this Occupy movement has gotten very much out of hand, damaging large and small business premises, hassling honest business owners and workers, destroying public property and also some private property whose owners initially welcomed them in and then changed their minds.

  “We know the identities of most of the instigators and organizers of this movement, and per my Directive 241, those individuals, along with the actual perpetrators of the damage, have been and will be held personally responsible for all of that damage, both by loss of liberty and financial loss. In fact, four of them are currently resting in the cellblock in the basement of this building and will find out tonight or tomorrow morning just what that responsibility will mean for them and their bank accounts. That's all on that subject for now.”