Predators and Drones

by Richard Herron

  Mary-Anne heard Samantha fire the opening round to the third act: "Should we get a drink somewhere, John?" rolled off her tongue like warmed honey and Mary-Anne could see her green eyes laser-locked to his blues. Turner nodded, little head already leading big head. It did not appear to Mary-Anne that he even paused to considered whether this was a good idea or not. It was a done deal, almost as if it was scripted.

  Even as John practiced chivalry, Mary-Anne turned away, phoned the driver she had waiting in an 'on call' status at functions like this. She directed him to have the car ready, provide the Senator and his guest transportation. If they walked, jumped in a cab or roller-skated, the driver was to follow, provide Mary-Anne an update on where they could be found.

  From what she knew or could tell, this was his first 'all-nighter' as a politician. She was aware that his marriage wore thin spots in its armor, but this was more like a fissure. It was going to require a fair amount of spackle. Another unwritten, but very real part of her job description.

  ◆◆◆

  Morning's arrival matched Turner's dawning realization that he had fucked up big time. He called Mary-Anne shortly after eight. Before he could stumble through some kind of story, she stated that when he was ready, a car would pick him up at the complex where he was located. It would bring him to the office, where he could shower and shave, get into a clean change of clothes. He told her he would be in the lobby in 15 minutes.

  Mary-Anne’s amazing! He knew she ran the best buffers. She threw barriers between him and lobbyists, cannibalistic politicians, and forceful media-types. She did the same for the public and even spousal contacts, which required extra sensitivity.

  When his ride delivered him to the Hart Senate Office Building, Mary-Anne met him inside the private office door. She handed him a hot cup of black coffee, knowing what a tenacious hang-over called for.

  "I called Mrs. Turner last night at about 8:30, informing her that you'd been tied up in committee discussions after the conference. I let her know that you'd likely stay in your suite after what was anticipated to be a long evening."

  Turner's mouth opened, ready to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to begin. She eased his quandary by turning back to her desk. He went into the suite, showered, shaved, dressed. When he re-appeared, Mary-Anne handed him the list she provided him at the start of each new business day. It listed meetings, voting issues pending, lunch appointment and other planned and/or optional activities.

  He looked up from the list, caught her eye, softly said “Thank you” with the sincerity she’d know meant “THANK YOU!” Mary-Anne offered a brief, slight smile as she turned back to review the pile of events that the office might consider. Nothing more was said.

  ◆◆◆

  John had been Senator Turner two full terms when one of his oldest friends contacted him to report a diagnosis of a terminal illness. He had accepted his fate, but shared concerns with John about the direction his business would take after his passing. The senator had been very good to his company, and turn-about was fair play.

  Electro-Regulators, INC produced software and hardware components. The company had emerged as 'cutting edge', and he wanted to transfer the business to John. They negotiated strategy with their team of combined attorneys so John could take control, with no apparent conflicts of interest. Justified Control Technologies, LLC, "JCT" for short, was now operating business under the leadership of Mr. J. Turner.

  ◆◆◆

  Invitations to a wide assortment of functions are a normal and everyday part of a politician’s life. During his sixteenth year in office, Turner's office received an invitation to participate in what was described as an Energy Conference. When Mary-Anne called for details, she received a more accurate portrayal.

  It would be a relaxing and leisurely, week-long golfing opportunity. Scheduled to take place at a luxury resort in the Dominican Republic. A spouse, guest or administrative assistant was included in the invitation.

  Hosted by G.T.M. Productions, the little joke whispered behind backs was that the initials stood for ‘get the money'. GTM represented so many deep pockets that an event labeled “Energy Conference” could be anything.

  Most invitations were declined with polite, rubber stamp “Thank you” cards from the Senator's office. This offer sounded glorious and decadent on many levels. John went home, actually excited about it, and looked forward to discussing it with his wife.

  Gloria’s immediate reaction was to exclaim,

  “John! We haven’t been away to the tropics since our honeymoon. Oh, let’s go!”

  ◆◆◆

  Gloria enjoyed the idea of social functions with her husband. She did what she could to add glimmer, to magnify and reflect the bright light of his position of influence and power. She hoped that her expressed excitement and enthusiasm would help sway John to accept the invitation. She didn't voice her private thoughts. Would a tropical week inject new excitement into their private, flagging bedroom relationship?

  ◆◆◆

  The following morning, the Senator asked Mary-Anne to send a note informing G.T.M. that he and Gloria would be attending. He knew Mary-Anne would keep his office machine well-oiled. He directed his front office receptionist to make arrangement for a weekend spa trip to Alpine Lakes Spa Resort as a gift for his head honcho. First class airfare and a 'Luxury Package' weekend would have her treated and feeling like a queen. Mary-Anne had raved about this place, as one of her all-time memorable indulgences. When he presented her with the package portfolio a few days later, she teared up, emotional at his thoughtfulness and generosity.

  ◆◆◆

  The driving range at Langston sequestered John for an afternoon. There was no avoiding it. Neither the hook nor the slice were adding enjoyment to his game. One or two buckets of balls might help knock off that rust. His focus remained on task for about a quarter of the balls, as he made micro-shift grip, stance, and power adjustments to tweak his swing.

  As he continued to send dimpled moons downrange, thoughts drifted… What can you remember of your honeymoon? All that came back was memory's grainy snapshots. White sand beaches, water play, candle light. Seemed like a beer or festooned party glass was always in hand. Truth be told, when Gloria broke out in one of those "Show and Tell" moods at home, he did see photos. Those 'fuzzy memory snapshots' might be from actual pictures...

  ~W-h-o-c-k~! Good one… "Ah, shit!" There's that god-damned hook…

  They’d spent a week in the Bahamas. Ancient history! Assemblyman Turner back then... tight budget. Not an issue these days. Funny, that–by the time you could pay the price, others were happy to do so. Thanks, GTM.

  ~W-h-a-c-k~!

  Gloria's shopping frenzy would continue. That’s good… keeps her happy. She's already stocked up on evening wear chic. Now says she is striving for a' poolside sport' look. For shit sake, Gloria, drinking gin and tonics, playing mahjong is not exactly sport…

  ~W-h-o-c-k~!

  The ball fired out in a low trajectory cannonball. Damn it! All I need is to get my swing smoothed out, I'll be a happy camper! If I can manage some good drives…

  Golf was the place his mind wandered to most often in the days leading up to the trip. In the immediate area of their resort, there were three award-winning courses—Teeth of the Dog, Dye Fore, and The Links. They helped to make Casa de Campos a premier golfing destination.

  If a mind could drool, John's thoughts were sopping wet.

  30. GLORIA

  Gloria hoped that this tropical get-away could re-ignite the magic, light the fire that had once burned heat into her marriage with John. When he came home to talk about the invitation with her, she could feel his excitement. That energy rubbed off on her and the fantasies she entertained for their relationship couldn't be ignored.

  There was no question that time had eroded much of the glue that held them together over the years. John’s professional life acted as a constant draw on his energies. Gloria wondered to what extent his pers
onal assistant Mary-Anne covered for her husband.

  As a Senator, he'd focused on his job as a representative. Upon acquiring JCT, LLC, his attention became sub-divided. Over time, new developments and successes for the company drew him further away. John promised his wife that he'd work with her on marriage issues, to 'weed out the dandelions of their garden'. Tending to that yardwork never materialized with significance.

  She tried to adjust, and never stopped doing her best to perform at social functions, when included, as the wife of a senator. Other than those times, she resigned to get together with a handful of close, personal friends.

  Meeting for lunch, playing mahjong, attending auctions and other similar kinds of diversions were the norm. A few peers gossiped about their special friends–Ones who provided attention lacking in their spousal relationships. Gloria never went there. She remained hopeful, optimistic that if there was to be a rejuvenation, it would come from her husband, her partner.

  The fact that John had included her on this trip was all the evidence she needed. It confirmed that he was still invested in their marriage, still loved her, that embers remained. If only she could blow some oxygen onto the coals, get the fire burning again.

  31. DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

  10:30 Thursday morning. First class flight on a chartered jet to La Romana International Airport, the Dominican Republic. John stepped from the jet-way, turned down the aisle where a bobbed-blond took his valise and placed it in the overhead compartment. He stepped toward seat 2B and the attendant took Gloria's large shoulder bag, tucked it next to the attaché. Cushy-looking, charcoal-colored leather seats beckoned.

  He noticed small packages on both of their seats. He picked them up as he moved toward the window, giving them a cursory look. Both displayed exquisite calligraphy. One cubed-shape with "Gloria" and the other, a low-profile oval, sported “John”. There were no other labels or information on them. He placed them into the seat pocket for closer inspection later.

  As they settled in, another attendant greeted them, a tray of champagne flutes in her hand. The overhead lights were sparkling diamonds in the effervescence. Gloria's giddiness was already a bit much for John. He hoped her edge would soften, knowing she'd sink into one of the current magazines she brought along for casual relaxation. She needed it.

  After they took off, approached cruising altitude, he withdrew the package with his name. He studied it again, turning it over to see if he had missed something. There was nothing to hint at its source. The taped seal securing the wrapping paper split, and the paper came away. John found a shallow white, crescent-shaped container. He pressed the small textured tab, located in the center of the inner curved edge. The box glided open under its own power, like a giant clam. In the maw, a royal blue velvet drawstring bag sat, its long shimmery silver cord terminating in blue-tasseled ends.

  Whatever was about to slide out of that pouch came with amazing presentation so far. John slipped two fingertips into the puckered end and wiggled opened the bag. He withdrew a sleek, exotic pair of dark sunglasses. He owned some nice shades but he’d never seen any quite like these. He opened the frame and slid them on, then nudged Gloria’s elbow to get her attention. She looked up and over from a news stand's gossip rag, smiling.

  “Oooh... Who are you?" Her eyes big saucers.

  That was the type of reaction he was hoping for, and he leaned in, planted a kiss on her cheek, and replied in a husky whisper, “I’m your date tonight.”

  “I’ll be ready in a bit,” she giggled, then returned to her magazine while her right hand eased over so that she could give a soft squeeze to his left knee. He returned the squeeze to her hand, and then pulled the glasses off for closer study.

  The temples of the frame had pinholes on the bottom surface and the frame itself had a thin, shiny, flat-top surface. He slipped them into his shirt pocket, withdrew a smaller matching bag from within the main drawstring bag. Inside that, he found a folded product information card. Tucked next to it, a pair of earbuds with translucent wires and tiny pin connectors, and a USB plug with the same pin. No kidding, he thought. They’re blue-tooth enabled! Earbud pins inserted into the frame on either side allowed right, left or stereo use. The USB connector enabled set-up of the blue-tooth system and charging. Additional power to operate the receiver came from solar energy that struck the upper surface of the frame. Amazing what miniaturization and technology is producing!

  John decided that the other package would also be a nice gift of some sort. He pulled it from the seat pocket and set it down in the crease of the magazine in Gloria's lap. She turned to smile at him, then set about opening her package. When she tore away the paper, she was holding a fancy, white-padded box. It opened in segmented panels to reveal a crown-like 2-ounce bottle of Caron’s Poivre. John guessed that this was no run-of-the-mill perfume, though he claimed no expertise. His estimate was immediately verified at Gloria’s gasp and exclamation.

  “My God, John! This perfume costs at least a thousand dollars an ounce. Thank you!”

  He shook his head, assured her that it was not from him and that he didn’t know about it. He whispered, "It might be from GTM."

  The attendant came around with more champagne and they both had their flutes topped off. As they sipped, they drifted off into their own private thoughts, imagining what else might be in store over the next several days.

  ◆◆◆

  The 'chirp' of tires on a heated ribbon of concrete announced their touchdown at La Romana International Airport. Inside, as they passed through the visa station, a statuesque woman approached.

  “Senator Turner? Mrs. Turner?” When they confirmed their identity, she continued, "Welcome to the Dominican Republic. My name is Naomi. I have a limousine waiting for you. Will you please give me your luggage tags?”

  When John produced them, Naomi turned and handed them to a young man standing behind her. "Your luggage will be delivered to your bungalow.”

  They followed her outside where a classic Rolls Royce Silver Cloud was waiting. They stepped into a capsule lined with butter-soft, cream-colored leather and burl trim of bird's eye maple. As they settled into mobile luxury, Naomi got into the front seat, turned back to face them.

  "I'm assigned as your personal concierge. At any time, day or night, please contact me for requests or needs." She handed them each a card with her name and a cell number. The Rolls glided away from the terminal, tinted windows softening the bright blue sky's light. Air-conditioning kept the tropical heat at bay.

  The limo had barely left the airport when it coasted to a slow roll, approached a security gate. The driver traded nods with a guard, drove on. The car meandered, weaving through spectacular gardens of flowers, fruit trees and palms. It seemed to coast a gradual turn up a gentle slope which crested on a cobblestone plateau, bordered by alabaster-columned archways. The Rolls stopped, and as they exited the vehicle, Naomi asked that they follow her.

  “Please let me know when there is anything I can do to assist in making this a wonderful stay.” Naomi introduced them to the reception staff, and with “I’ll talk to you soon”, she was gone.

  ◆◆◆

  "Bungalow" turned out to be an understatement in describing a large, white stucco home with mahogany trim. On entering, their eyes were bombarded with pastel-yellow walls, entry area furniture of teak. A marble table boasted a cut-crystal vase centerpiece. The floral arrangement, of blossoms and fronds, splayed up into the air, waving toward the overhead, rotating ceiling fan. Next to the vase, a leather-bound folder provided all operational information about the villa. Past the foyer, a living area provided seating for a dozen. A big kitchen to their left, a hallway to their right, and a floor to ceiling glass wall straight ahead, looking out over a swimming pool of turquoise. Surrounding the pool, chairs and tables for another dozen, and a border of tree ferns. At the entrance to the hallway, their luggage sat waiting for them.

  For the next several minutes, they explored their digs. A fully-stocked ki
tchen, including fresh foods in the refrigerator, dry goods in the cabinets. They found dinnerware, glassware, and high-end cooking equipment. Just off the kitchen, a stocked bar. The three small bedrooms had queen-size beds, private bathrooms, a flat-screen, wall-mounted television. Patios opened up to gardens. The master suite was equipped in similar fashion, but with a king-size bed and a bathroom that contained a jetted tub, sauna, and steam room.

  The cumulative effect of their anticipation, flying and now this palatial 'bungalow' was draining. John turned to look at Gloria.

  “I need to get a drink and sit down”.

  She nodded, followed him back out to the bar. He fetched two glasses from a cabinet, dropped an ice cube into each. From the bar shelf, he picked up a bottle of Booker's bourbon, poured them each two fingers. Gloria had plopped down onto the leather sofa and John handed her a glass, sat next to her. On the table there, he noticed an envelope with his name. They clinked glasses and took a sip together, then he picked it up, opened it, began to read.

  ◆◆◆

  "Welcome to Casa de Campo, Senator and Mrs. Turner.

  I am so pleased that you are able to join us for some well-deserved rest, recreation and a bit of luxury. I hope that you will find your accommodations satisfactory. Since this villa can accommodate several more guests, it should serve your personal needs. Please don’t hesitate to let one of my staff know, should there be any problems.

  I know that you will need some time for charging up your batteries, so I expect that you will enjoy a quiet evening. Please feel free to contact the reception desk if you desire to order foods or beverages. They will deliver to your villa, or if you're inspired, you are welcome to dine at any of the restaurants in the resort. Should you wish to make something in your kitchen, you will find plenty of fresh stock to choose from.