The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology

by Jake Devlin

  “Melinda, I'm going to be sending you your check and a special thank-you letter later today, and I wish you all the best in your life, and I hope you drive your motorcycle safely when you get it. And give your mom a big bravo and a thank-you hug for me, okay?

  “Okay; let's start with the questions. Who's first? Sandra?”

  “Sandra _____, from ______. My question is this. What was the last name of the porn star you had the affair with?”

  “Sorry, Sandra, that's an answer that you'll see when Lindsey airs our exclusive interview. I won't take the wind out of her sails on that. Watch her show this Friday morning and you'll find out. Yes?”

  “Heavan ______, _____. Mr. Donne, when you dispatched Army and Marine units to help out with the tornado damage in Kentucky and Indiana, why didn't you just have the governors call up their National Guard units?”

  “Well, Heavan, in good part, it was because we were already paying the soldiers, no matter what they were doing. And it just seemed to be a good use of that resource to use them. All we really had to pay extra was for fuel to transport them there. Everything else was already being paid for anyhow, so that was the only extra cost. It just made sense to me to do it that way. Okay. Yes?

  “Crystal _______, _______. We understand that you're considering deprivatizing prisons. Is that true and could you expand on that?

  “Yes, Crystal, that is under – well, it's more than under consideration; it's gonna be another done deal. The privatization experiment has been a total failure, filled with corruption and inefficiency, and we're going to fix that and turn it totally around.

  “Additionally, we're in the process of revising the antiquated sentencing guidelines and separating offenses that require some kind of incarceration from those that don't. Violent offenders and others who pose a danger to society will continue to be kept in jail or prison, but non-prison sentences for non-violent offenders will be available to judges in the federal courts, at least, and we will be encouraging individual states to follow our example. We will no longer tolerate prisons becoming schools for crime for non-violent offenders, nor making them prey for the violent ones.

  “We will also be applying a Latin principle, the opposite of cui bono, who benefits, which is cui malo, who is harmed, and running our entire federal criminal code through that filter, with punishments rising in proportion to the degree of harm.

  “And we will look carefully at the issue of rehabilitation. Yes?”

  “Honey _____, _____. Mr. Donne, have you developed a plan for dealing with the student loan bubble?”

  “Honey, that is a very tough problem, and it goes back many decades. Like insurance or any form of subsidy, in fact, any kind of third party payment, one of the side effects, the unintended consequences, if you will, is that the price of whatever is subsidized goes up out of all proportion. That's simple economics and human psychology. Think about it.

  “We have seen college tuitions rise, we have seen hospital costs rise, we have seen doctors' bills rise, we have seen auto repair costs rise, we have seen home repair costs rise, all significantly above the average rate of inflation for things that are not subsidized. The people are sensible enough, as individuals and en masse, to resist the inevitable and ongoing desire of producers to raise their prices, which is no different from an individual in a job hoping for a raise; same principle, same psychology. It's called pricing power, and when the government negotiators are either beholden to the other side or downright corrupt or just plain wusses, that gets out of hand.

  “Let me be very clear. I and my people are NOT wusses, and we will be renegotiating all kinds of third-party payment processes where the government is involved, and we will reduce the pricing power of providers of all kinds, including student loans and the colleges that benefit from those. Okay. Yes?”

  “Bill ____, ______. Mr. Donne, many people are unclear on your foreign policy and feel you have been mostly focused on the domestic economy. Can you clarify that for us?”

  “Sorry, Bill. That's another issue that I covered extensively with Lindsey, so watch her show this Friday, and if you still have any questions after that, I'll be happy to go into more detail. But as I said in the clip she's been running, I am neither a cowboy nor a wuss. Strong but thoughtful; that's my underlying principle. Okay. Yes?”

  “Maude _____, ______. Mr. Donne, there is a lot of pushback from nonprofits about your 50 percent tax on them. How are you planning to deal with that, and is your policy open to change?”

  “Let me answer your second part first. No, my policy is not subject to change; it will continue precisely as I stated it in my first speech to the country.

  “As to how I plan to deal with the pushback, there are a couple of ways. First, we plan to deal with noncompliance head-on, just as we have dealt with and will deal with noncompliance with our corrupt proceeds clawback program: with strength that some may consider harsh. Too bad.

  “Second, with mathematics. As our tax credit has already begun to push money toward nonprofits, directly from the individual and/or corporate taxpayer, without any of the overhead of going through the byzantine and labyrinthine maze of the government, which reduces the value of taxpayers' money by nearly 80 percent … or has up until now, the nonprofits who are supported by some portion of American taxpayers will wind up with more money than under the previous setup. Run the numbers yourselves and see what results you reach.

  “Again, I'll reemphasize the point I've made over and over again, in my underlying principles across all segments of this country, it's up to the PEOPLE, not only as to what breakfast cereals they choose to buy, and thus which cereals succeed or fail, but as to which nonprofits they choose to support, and thus which ones will succeed and which ones will fail. Okay. Yes?”

  “Gemma ____, _____. Mr. Donne, the stagehands union has been particularly negative in reacting to your position on unions, so that many Broadway shows have gone dark as of this past weekend. Do you have any plans to deal with that?”

  “Yes, Gemma, I do. This morning, I issued a directive ordering them to immediately return to work, with big penalties, especially for the union bosses, for noncompliance. That is Directive Number 523, I believe it was. I've also ordered members of the military to observe and oversee each and every production that uses members of that union or any associated union, and to ensure that any attempts at sabotage or any other noncompliant behaviors fail or are severely punished.

  “Additionally, I have ordered the FBI to --”

  At that moment, a rumble of voices and loud footsteps was heard in the hall outside the press room, followed by shouts, screams and gunshots. The press corps ducked for cover and the guards and Secret Service agents in the room surrounded Donne and rushed him to and out through the hidden second door.

  The first door, the main door, then burst open, with Marines backing in, firing their machine guns at an approaching horde of zombies, who kept coming and coming through the door, arms extended, shuffling along in spite of repeated bullets striking them in their torsos, their heads, arms and legs. They overwhelmed the Marines, chewing on their necks, arms, legs, and torsos, blood spurting and flowing freely across the floor, drenching the walls and furniture. Then they made their way inexorably toward the cowering, screaming members of the press corps, as …

  -99-

  Five Months Earlier

  Saturday, October 15, 2011

  10:25 a.m.

  Bonita Beach, Florida

  “Zombies, Jake? ZOMBIES!!!?? You put zombies in the freakin' White House? What the hell is that?” Pam fairly shrieked at Jake, waving the pages in front of him, as best she could from her chair at the foot of his three-way lounge. Jake just smiled at her.

  “You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding.” Jake just kept smiling, his eyes twinkling behind his sunglasses.

  “You're joking, right? You're joking. Yup, you're joking. Okay, you got me.”

  “I got you, babe,” Jake warbled, off-key, as Pam began gigg
ling, then chuckling, then chortling. Jake joined in.

  “Why else do you think I'd give you the printed pages instead of the CD I usually do? I just wanted to give you a laugh … and watch.”

  “You are going to take that out, right?”

  “Of course, Pam; I put it in just for you. I'll take it out of the final draft. Of course, the zombie lobby would probably be offended by --”

  “Oh, c'mon, Jake --”

  “What's this about zombies?” an alto male voice squeaked.

  “Nothing, Ron, nothing,” Jake said, not bothering to turn around to see the speaker.

  “Nothing? Sounded funny,” Ron said as he came around Jake's lounge and looked at Pam with what he fantasized as his “come hither” look.

  “So what's a gorgeous babe like you doing with a schlub like this?”

  Pam looked up at him, pulled her sunglasses slightly down her nose and said, “I'm sorry. Are you talking to me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. I thought you might be talking to your wife.” She looked at Jake and winked. Jake nodded and smiled. Ron just kept on, not getting it at all.

  “No, Jenny's up there. And Jake, she sent these for you.” He held out a plastic bag with some chocolate brownies in it. Jake took it, looked over at Jenny and made a “thank you” gesture. She smiled and shrugged in her “I'm sorry” gesture.

  “Well, that buys you a minute, Ron,” Jake said, putting the bag in his cooler.

  “So you gonna tell me who this pretty woman is or not?”

  “Pam, this is Ron, and that's his wife, Jenny, up there; she loves to bake and she's terrific at it.”

  Pam turned and waved at Jenny, a pretty white-blonde-haired woman, who smiled and waved back.

  “So, Jake, you gonna put me in your book?”

  “Not sure yet, Ron – wait, I may have a job for you, in the White House.”

  “I think I'd make a great Secretary of Defense. You know, I was in Vietnam.”

  “I know, Ron; you've talked about that as long as I've known you. Not sure if SecDef is a good fit. But I'll think about it.”

  “Cool. Have you seen Ned and Joan?”

  “I think they got in last week.”

  “Ken and Marsha?”

  “Haven't seen 'em yet.”

  “Norm and Janet?”

  “I think they're on a cruise this week.”

  “Dave and Pat?”

  “Who?”

  “Dave and Pat, from New Jersey; they sit over near the stairs when they're here.”

  “Can't place 'em; don't know.”

  “We got in on Thursday.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Had to unpack and get all settled in or we woulda gotten to the beach yesterday.”

  “Ah, well. The beach survived.”

  “Yeah, we had to get the A/C cleaned, and Jenny wanted to get some baking done. Too bad the rest of the gang isn't here. I can't eat all that stuff.” He patted his beer belly.

  “I'm sure you'll find something to do with it.”

  “Excuse me, Jake, Ron. I'm going to go talk with Jenny,” Pam cut in.

  “Okay,” Jake said. Pam got up and walked up toward Ron's wife, who was sitting about ten feet west of the Mimosa twins, who shifted one of their beach bags slightly. Ron's eyes followed Pam's swiveling bright red bikini bottom, then reverted to Jake when Pam sat down in Ron's chair.

  “How about Paul and Evelyn? Have they come down yet?”

  “Haven't seen 'em.”

  “George? Will? Lucy? Bill? Peggy? Barbara 1? Barbara 2?”

  “Nope, nope, yup, nope, nope, nope and nope. Okay, Ron, time's up. Into the water for me. Have a nice day.” Jake got up, grabbed his bag and noodles and headed to the Gulf. A few minutes later, Pam joined him with her noodle, wrapping her legs lightly around his, running the tops of her feet up and down his shins.

  “She seems nice, and she really loves baking. But he is kind of an arrogant jerk.”

  “Oh, he's tolerable, especially with Jenny's brownies to balance him off.”

  “What was that about the brownies buying him a minute?”

  “I set that up last winter. Told him the only reason I tolerated him was because of Jenny's baking.”

  “To his face?”

  “Yep. But with a laugh, and after a lot of setting him up to be able to take it. You know, that guy thing of calling each other names.”

  “Oh, yeah. Clever.”

  “No big deal. He's also an Obamabot, so I tease him on that, too.”

  “Oh, I'd like to see that sometime.”

  “I'll make sure you're here next time I do that.”

  “Cool.”

  “Not too bad; it's about 82 degrees, according to the TV.”

  “What?”

  “Weren't you talking about the water temp?”

  “Oh, no, Jake; I was – oh, you got me.” She chuckled.

  “Yup, gotcha. Probably another month of noodleable water … for me, at least.”

  “How cold does it get in the winter?”

  “Lowest I've seen was 58 degrees. Last February. When I was up in Boston, we thought that was warm.”

  “Ooooo; I don't know. Sounds cold to me.”

  “Tourists and snowbirds, especially the Canadians and Germans, go in and think it's fine.”

  “I think I'll have to try it then.”

  “Oh, I got an email from Marti and Dave; they're having their boat parade party in December and we're invited.”

  “Marti and Dave?”

  “Fishbuster Charters. Remember that T-shirt you had on at – wherever it was we met when --”

  “Oh, right; I liked the name. What day in December?”

  “I think it's the 17th, a Saturday.”

  “Uh-oh. I think I have a thing with O-P around that time.”

  “Oh. On the 17th?”

  “I'm not sure; I wrote it on my calendar. It may be that week, or it may be a week earlier. I'll check.”

  “I hope it is; you'll like Marti … and Dave, too. Nice, genuine people.”

  “Do you like to fish?”

  “Me? Nah.”

  “Me neither. But some folks love it.”

  “To each his own.”

  “Or her own.”

  “Right.

  “So what's going on with O-P?”

  “I don't know if I can talk about it.”

  “Oh, okay. No problem.”

  “Uh-oh; behind you, Jake.”

  “Have you accepted Jaysus as your lord and savior?” a female voice intoned from behind Jake as he swiveled on his noodles in response to Pam's alert.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Have you accepted Jaysus as your lord and savior?” she asked again, more pointedly.

  “Ma'am, if we have, that is our personal business,” Pam said over Jake's shoulder, “and we prefer to keep it to ourselves.”

  “But if you don't, you will go straight to --”

  “Ma'am,” Pam interrupted, “while I respect your right to your own opinion, I hope that you will show the same respect to my choice not to hear it.”

  “But --”

  “Ma'am,” Pam said in her commanding tone, “please find someone else to talk to … now.”

  Shaken, the woman backed away in the waist-deep water and took her boogie board with her as she looked for another mark.

  Jake bit his tongue until the woman was out of earshot.

  “Wow, Pam, that was very cool.”

  “Learned that a long time ago, in a place far, far away. 1994 or '95, Nashville, Tennessee. I was undercover there, got a lot of that kind of stuff. Had to develop a response of some sort.”

  “Ah. You know, I may have to use that, if that's okay?

  “For Donne? Sure.”

  “You know, I have one, too, but I've never had the guts to try it.”

  “And?”

  “Well, if someone came up and said, 'Have you accepted Jesus,' I'd say, if I had the guts, 'Accept
ed? Hell, I pay him and his cousins Joe-zay and Joo-awn twenty bucks a month to cut my lawn.'”

  “Oh, Jake,” Pam said, laughing, “that would take guts.”

  “Hell, I'd probably get another death threat.”

  “Maybe two of 'em.”

  “Oh, right; could be two. Geez. Oh, thanks for getting O-P to help with those. Helped set my mind at ease … a bit, at least.”

  “They were happy to do it; they do that sort of research every day, and even a bit better than the Service did when I was in that division.”

  “Got a few more of those last night.”

  “Really? Same kind or more serious?”

  “Same kind, just ranting. I'm not too worried about those. Just those four or five in the original bunch.”

  “Stay paranoid, my friend.”

  “Oh, Pam, believe me, I am. Wish I knew how to do it better.”

  “Maybe I can show you some stuff.”

  “I like it when you show me your stuff.”

  “Oh, geez, set you up again,” Pam said, chuckling.

  “How about we try some of Jenny's brownies?”

  “Sounds good,” Pam said.

  As they headed toward the shore, they noticed the Jaysus woman talking with Sonya, the Blabberator.

  “Oh, I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that one,” Jake said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Pam said, chuckling.

  “Y'know, Pam, one thing I never understood about religion is why people have to put human characteristics on their god figures.”

  Pam thought a moment and then said, “Anthropomorphism? My guess? Because people need to have a daddy figure or a mommy figure to be dependent on, so they don't ever have to take personal responsibility for their lives, just live kind of like perpetual toddlers.”