“It’s good to see you too, John. Do you mind if I join you guys this afternoon?”
“That'd be great, Andrew" John replied. "It'll be good to get to know you better, and besides, GTM was going to be a bit heavy-handed on the course. Now we can balance that out with some senatorial wisdom.” That brought smiles all around and John threw a wink at Andrew. The four walked out to begin their afternoon’s play.
The next few hours got swallowed up by great golfing and phenomenal vistas. They played under blue skies, surrounded by azure waters and lush green vegetation. Accompanying the view was a warm, steady breeze. An occasional gull kited overhead, crying a claim of ownership. What made the time sail by even more than the game and view was the fact that they got along as if they were long-lost brothers. They told jokes, talked about the resort, talked about women, children and even about politics and the world in general.
When they finished the round, Gerrie suggested that they join him for an afternoon cocktail, and they returned to the clubhouse. He led them through a hall to a stairway, and upstairs to a locked door. Withdrawing a keycard, he swiped it through the slot and the door opened to a small, private lounge. There were no staff members present, nor any other guests.
"How about if we sit there?" He indicated a table by the window, over-looking the course and an ocean view. "I happen to know that there's a very nice twenty-four year-old bottle of scotch here at the bar. Would that be okay for everyone?"
As his guests settled into chairs, they all accepted his offered libation. He stepped behind the small bar as they chatted golf, setting up four glasses on a tray. He dropped a cube of ice into each and produced a bottle from below the bar. After pouring a generous amount into each tumbler, he returned to the table with the tray, set it down.
"Please have one."
“What? No cocktail napkins?” Robbie teased.
They clinked glasses, sipped and shared "Mmm" around the table. A few more jokes and comments on the game went around. After a moment of silence, Gerrie’s countenance changed, turning more focused, serious. He looked at Turner.
“John, this was fun, and I'm planning for more of it, but I need, or we need to discuss something very important with you. When we're finished talking this afternoon, we only require your complete and total discretion. This conversation’s content must never leave this room.”
38. A PERSONAL INVITATION
John eyebrows bounced up in surprise at how quickly the tone had changed. He looked from face to face but could see nothing in those faces to hint at what this was about.
“By all means, Gerrie, you have my word. I won't share what's discussed.” Gerrie nodded from across the table.
◆◆◆
“For a long time now John, you and your business organization have been under scrutiny by some influential and powerful entities.”
John’s face reflected confusion, his brows hugging his eyes. He scanned the other faces, looking for something, finding nothing but eyes upon him.
“Everything's fine." Gerrie continued, "This has been a good thing and I suspect that you'll come to the same conclusion. Believe it or not, eyes were on you way back when you were first elected as an assemblyman, and they never went far away. Throughout your political life, your associations have been the topics of study. When you took control of the Electronic Regulators business from your friend—'JCT' as it's now called, focus on you sharpened, and help came your way. Vital help, considering the services JCT provides to our nation."
◆◆◆
"What do you mean, 'help came my way'?" John's eyes had flared wide, his mouth going dry, doing his best to keep a poker face. He crossed his arms as his brain clicked... JCT was involved in classified projects. Was the company in danger? Was he? What help?
"JCT,” Gerrie eased placating hands toward John, “sits in a great position concerning government contracts. Getting there sometimes came with a little boost, that’s all. We're all well-aware of how vital JCT's electronic equipment is, the role it plays in weapons systems on our drones."
“The study of your activities has been conducted by individuals who are part of a select group that most people know nothing about. Most will never hear about it. Even some sitting presidents of the United States have been generally unaware of this group's influence. Have you ever heard mention of ‘The Alliance’ or a reference to an alliance of power?”
John thought about that for a moment. He might have heard one thing or another, in hushed, faceless voices, bounced off tiled walls in a congressional building’s restroom. That was as close as he could surmise.
◆◆◆
“Not really, no.”
"Alright, John. Think about this. The Alliance plays an integral and critical role in business and banking around the globe. The International Monetary Fund gets much of its direction from the Alliance. When the G20 meets, resolutions are often guided by the Alliance. Likewise, checks on political and social groups receive oversight. Militaries receive equipment from Alliance members." Gerry paused to let that soak in.
“Those militaries often receive training and other types of specialized support through good working relationships with others, and the Alliance assures that when in compliance, those militaries receive what they need to be successful."
"Success bring happiness. Wouldn't you agree?"
John acknowledge the question with a half shrug and nod.
"Sometimes,” Gerrie went on, “an Alliance member receives a generous donation from those who've benefitted from it. These gratuities are not required, but it helps when entities come back to us with further requests for support.”
There are very few large-scale shifts in global development that haven't been influenced by Alliance members. If an operation fails approval by the Alliance, the Alliance acts. Impediments become the gadfly to that progress." Gerry paused again, his eyes drilling into John's.
"Those acts might take many forms. Land acquisition, organized hydra protestations, and/or banking and investment difficulties. In extreme circumstances, when a difficult component has caused problems, there've been disappearances. Generally, it's found to be more profitable, less encumbering when the recommendations of the Alliance are adhered to."
Gerrie stared at his face. No clear reaction to what he'd just said—even this most delicate admission. Not buried between the lines, but skimmed over. John's eyes didn't flicker as Gerrie watched him digest information.
◆◆◆
For the next thirty minutes, the three men took turns speaking in general terms about the Alliance, and John kept his eyes on each speaker in turn. He was practiced at that. Any politician worth his weight knew how to look like he was listening. Inside his head, thoughts about the two biggest things in his life bounced around like a couple of coffee beans in the grinder...
Two-term senator... good years... gravy years. Is this about buying my vote?... Justified Control Technology... booming business now... WHO you know, not what you know... non-competitive contracts... did that get Alliance help? Partnering with colleagues had garnered that sweet legislation... more senatorial gravy... perks of office... benefits for developing Justified Control...
John swam back out of the swirl in his head. They were winding up talk about the significance of membership and the discussion shifted once again to the secrecy of its existence.
◆◆◆
"Our jobs as legislators," Andrew piped in, "is challenging and important, and I know you believe that, too. The thing is John, our constituents might not understand some of our actions directed by the Alliance. Some of these things are too complicated for the average Joe to grasp. We need to protect them from this sort of confusion."
"It's also important," Robbie reminded him, "that when you act on the behalf of the Alliance, we've got your back. You won't have to worry about troubles from outsiders. Whenever you have problems, you'll have resources that will take care of you. Whether you need allies on a position, a media blitz or some creative disc
rediting of a problem, we're on it!"
"As you can see, John," Gerrie concluded, "it's vital that Alliance members remain steadfast in keeping inner-workings quiet. We don’t want to have any spills."
◆◆◆
"Yes, I can see that." John nodded, eyes on Gerrie, shifting to Robbie and Andrew in turn, then back to his host.
"So here it is, John. This offer comes through a very narrow window. The time to respond is equally slender. Should you accept it, you're accountable, adhering to all rules and directives. If you opt out, no penalties, no problems."
Implicit, either way, the consequences of discussing the Alliance would not be a pleasant experience. Gerrie continued, "I'll need your answer before you return to the mainland, okay John?"
Gerrie nodded at him, then rose from his chair. The others followed suit, and they all shook hands.
Coming downstairs, John and Robbie walked side by side, and at the landing, they exchanged a glance. Robbie tipped his head toward John, with a wink, said under his breath, “We'll be waiting for ya.”
"Okay."
◆◆◆
John stepped onto his golf cart, swung around the clubhouse, and returned to the villa. He thought about the Senate, about retirement from office, about having JCT be the ticket for whatever remained of his working life. Being a part of the Alliance didn't sound bad at all. He was certain he could slide through this last term, and following that, he'd be free to run JCT and really have those golden years to enjoy.
As he pulled up onto the drive that served the villa, he saw Gloria’s cart parked there. He went in, found her sitting at the pool deck on a chaise lounge, sipping on a wine cooler and reading.
“Hi, Honey.” His voice chirped mechanically at her through the screen door as he walked to the bar. He pulled an old-fashioned glass from the cabinet, dropped in four cubes from the freezer’s bin, then swirled them in a quick spin, chilling the vessel down.
◆◆◆
Gloria tore herself away from where she’d been floating over a bed—in a torrid, perspiration-glistened love scene in her novel. She gave a momentary glance above the pages to look at him through the screen, before her eyes dropped back to the disheveled coverings on the bed.
“How was your golf game, Dear?” was all she could manage before the shiny bodies on crumpled bed sheets re-entangled her imagination.
◆◆◆
The melting ice went into the sink, and a single fresh cube replaced it. He picked up the Balwenie 21, poured a couple ounces slowly, floating the rock up into an easy tumble. He gave the tawny liquid a gentle twirl, raised the glass up to his nose, and sniffed in the vapor. That brought a smile to his face. He came out from behind the bar and walked to the pool, sat on a deck chair nearby where his wife lounged.
“Game was pretty good, regardless of my drive issues.” He pulled a slow sip, let it roll around, swallowed. “This place fits right into the picture of ‘heaven on earth’, don’t you think?”
◆◆◆
Gloria stepped out from the book's bedroom, keeping a finger in place to hold open the door. She lowered the book into her lap, began gushing—about the scenery, the service, the food and this villa in particular.
◆◆◆
Gloria said something about buying a condo or something, but John had already drifted away, thinking about the ramifications of a certain opportunity.
39. SENATORIAL HORIZON
Gloria knew that a critical time approached. If I don't flip the switch, I’ll end up spending this whole frickin' vacation laying around by the pool, or here in the villa, drinking wine. Meanwhile, John will be off somewhere on a golf course or in the clubhouse, conferencing with cocktails.
While those pastimes would get them both through the week, it wasn't the formula for headway in their relationship. Time together with minimal distractions was needed. If she could create some space just for the two of them, some easy, relaxing time without quibbles, she felt certain that John would be there, make some strides with her.
Friday evening, they attended a large dinner party and when they returned to the villa, Gloria stepped up.
"Dear, I'm going to have a glass of port. You want one?"
"Sounds good." John smiled with his reply.
When she brought the drinks over, handed one to John, she sat near him on the matching chair in the living room.
"You're not playing in a tournament tomorrow, are you?" She mentally crossed her fingers.
"No, Honey. The tourneys are on the weekdays. The courses are open on the weekends."
"Great! Do I get to keep you to myself tomorrow? We could spend the whole day together."
"Well sure, I guess so," he answered. "What are you thinking about?"
"I dunno," she tried to sound casual, "nothing specific, John. It would be nice to have a quiet morning, maybe a nice lunch. I'd even go out on a boat or go horseback riding, if you wanted."
John turned to look at her with wide eyes. He'd tried to interest her in boating, countless invitations to join him on their new boat, without much luck. He was certain neither was ready to climb on top of a horse.
"How about we start slow and see how the day goes?" he offered. "If we decide to go wild, we can put seat belts on later."
"That sounds wonderful, dear. I'm looking forward to the best day ever!"
Gloria reached over, port glass extended for a light clink with his glass. She drained hers, set the glass down on the side table, and rose to her feet. "I'm going to get ready for bed." She leaned over and met his lips for a peck.
In the bathroom, Gloria brushed her teeth, primped and dabbed Shalimar behind her earlobes. She raised her arms over her head and dropped a black mid-thigh, sheer silk slip over her shoulders, let it slide down over her body. She checked herself in the mirror. While not the svelte form of thirty years ago, she still hoped that she carried some allure for her husband. She crawled into bed and waited.
◆◆◆
John finished his port, decided on a refill and perused another golf magazine, but only looking at the pictures. His mind was far from golfing, now absorbed in the ideas of being a part of this so-called alliance.
After a half hour, he went down the hall, into the bathroom and brushed teeth, then climbed into bed. He was snoring inside of five minutes and had never even rolled in the direction of his wife, who was nearly asleep herself.
The next morning, over a light breakfast of fresh fruit and yogurt with coffee, dressed only in bathrobes, Gloria decided that they should lunch at the Beach Club and hit the casino that evening. When she made that suggestion to her husband, he was ambivalent.
"Whatever you'd like, dear."
He flipped pages in another resort magazine. Gloria made a throat-clearing, "ahem" sound on deaf ears. Slightly exasperated, she stood, walked to the counter, returned with the coffee pot.
"You want more?" There was no sugar in the offer.
John looked up. "Sure," and passed his cup to her side of the table.
As she poured coffee into his cup, he dropped a bombshell. "What do you think about my retiring from office?"
Gloria did a double take and nearly dropped the coffee pot.
"Really?! Wow! To tell you the truth, I sometimes wish you would, but now that you're asking, I'm not sure what I think! Are you really considering it?"
Even as she asked, she wondered... What would that mean? Would they have more time together?
"I've been thinking about it over the last couple months. I've only got two more years in this term and rather than jump back into the stress of running again, it might be time to get out, put my full focus into JCT." He left the statement hanging.
Gloria didn't know what to say... When he leaves the Senate, what then? No more cares about his voter's ideas, support, or beliefs. Good! What about us? He's always been old-fashioned, believing that marriage and a stable home life were important. What's going to happen when he doesn't have to show that public face anymore? Will he still nee
d me?
Barely a moment passed. Gloria felt a giant wave of heat. God! I'm past hot flashes by now, aren't I? It began down low in her belly, but then it moved in a surge, pushing upward until her whole torso was on fire. Her heart was pounding and she could feel beads of sweat popping out on her forehead, her upper lip, even her eyelids felt damp. An image she never wanted to think about, never wanted to see, loomed large before her mind's eye. Another woman was standing in a doorway, her face obscured by murky shadows.
40. CASINO DOMINICUS
John and Gloria paddled through a late-morning swim and when they arrived at the Beach Club for lunch, Gloria asked the host to have their names added to the casino shuttle list for an evening pick-up at their villa. They had a casual meal of sandwiches and coffee, and their matching conversation covered the swim, the weather, the staff, golf and mahjong. When they finished eating, they hopped onto their cart to return to the villa and upon arrival, found a familiar face. Naomi, their self-described concierge was waiting at their front door.
“Hi Naomi,” Gloria greeted, “We wondered when we might see you again.”
“Well, Mrs. Turner,” Naomi replied, “I happen to know about everything that goes on here,” she continued with a smile. “For example, I know that you're planning on going to the casino tonight.”
Both Gloria and John were surprised at this, considering they had just put their names on the shuttle’s list before lunch.
“I think you might have forgotten that I'm here for you. Rather than taking the shuttle, I've arranged for limo service. Isn’t that the way you are supposed to go to a casino, Senator Turner? Mrs. Turner?” Her smile grew large.
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