Read Online Born with Secrets: A Political Thriller by Bowen Greenwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bowen Greenwood
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little bit, but that’s just entertainment, nothing serious.
Nothing that will leave a mark. You’re here so I can make you famous. We can’t
have you all bruised up if you have to go on TV.”
She made some more noises under the tape. She was
trying to shout. Even muffled as she was, Luther had no trouble figuring out
what she was trying to ask.
“What do I want with you? Oh that’s easy. It’s about
making money, Moira, but it’s also about revenge. I’m not satisfied with just
putting my brother’s technology to work. I’m not even satisfied with getting
more out of it than anyone has even imagined so far. But revenge? That’s
satisfying. I’m going to get some payback, Moira.”
***
Congressman Michael Vincent was an early riser; he had to
be. Contrary to popular belief, the job of being a Member of the U.S. House of
Representatives actually took much more than 40 hours a week. Of course, a very
large portion of those hours were spent raising money for the campaign. But the
difference in duties didn’t make it any easier to sleep in.
His normal morning routine
called for getting up at four, being in his home gym by four thirty, and being
out the door for the Longworth House Office Building by five thirty. Usually,
his wife was awake enough for a kiss before he left. Usually.
All of which made it
extraordinarily annoying that someone was pounding on his door at 3a.m.
As the rain hammered his
window, the Congressman whispered to his wife to stay put and wrapped himself
in a bathrobe. Then he took a small pistol from the nightstand and dropped it
into his pocket. Only then did he go investigate the disturbance.
It turned out the
precautions weren’t necessary. Pounding on his door in the middle of the night
was a bedraggled, soaking-wet version of his friend Matt Barr.
“Matt? What’s going on?
It’s three in the morning!”
“My house just burned
down, Mike.”
“What the—”
“And it was deliberate. It
was arson. And whoever did it chased me in a car and tried to shoot me.”
The Congressman simply
stared at his friend for a moment, open-mouthed. Then he said, “Well, get
inside. You’re soaked. Let’s get you dried off and in some fresh clothes. Then
I want to hear everything.”
Mike brought him in, sent
Matt to the bathroom to use the towels, and laid out some of his clean sweats
for his friend to wear. He started the morning’s coffee, grabbed a pair of
thirty-pound dumbbells, and worked through some sets of concentration curls
while he waited for Matt to come tell him what the heck was going on.
Since he got married,
Kathy had improved the bachelor-pad-efficiency in which Mike used to live. Now
the furniture matched, he had a real couch rather than a futon, and decorations
adorned the walls.
When his friend changed
clothes, Congressman Vincent gave Matt a cup of coffee. Then the two of them
went to sit in the living room.
Matt said, “You know I
went to visit Alyssa yesterday.”
“Of course. How is she?”
“She said she got into a
fight again. I’ve got a lot to say about that but now’s not the time. The point
is, I got home and tried to get some sleep. I woke up sweating buckets, which I
guess was pretty logical since the doorway of my bedroom was catching fire.”
“Are you OK?”
“Well, I’m pretty messed
up emotionally right now but physically I’m OK. I got out through the window
and two things happened at about the same time. One, I noticed that the fire
was completely unaffected by the pouring rain, which made me think someone had
put some chemical accelerants on it. Two, I also noticed someone was shooting
at me. I…”
Vincent interrupted and
said, “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Shooting at me. I know,
right? It seemed like a strategic retreat was the only maneuver that made
sense. I got in the Camaro and tore up the road to get here. They chased me,
too, but I lost them as I started to get anywhere near the White House.”
The Congressman leaned
Nothing that will leave a mark. You’re here so I can make you famous. We can’t
have you all bruised up if you have to go on TV.”
She made some more noises under the tape. She was
trying to shout. Even muffled as she was, Luther had no trouble figuring out
what she was trying to ask.
“What do I want with you? Oh that’s easy. It’s about
making money, Moira, but it’s also about revenge. I’m not satisfied with just
putting my brother’s technology to work. I’m not even satisfied with getting
more out of it than anyone has even imagined so far. But revenge? That’s
satisfying. I’m going to get some payback, Moira.”
***
Congressman Michael Vincent was an early riser; he had to
be. Contrary to popular belief, the job of being a Member of the U.S. House of
Representatives actually took much more than 40 hours a week. Of course, a very
large portion of those hours were spent raising money for the campaign. But the
difference in duties didn’t make it any easier to sleep in.
His normal morning routine
called for getting up at four, being in his home gym by four thirty, and being
out the door for the Longworth House Office Building by five thirty. Usually,
his wife was awake enough for a kiss before he left. Usually.
All of which made it
extraordinarily annoying that someone was pounding on his door at 3a.m.
As the rain hammered his
window, the Congressman whispered to his wife to stay put and wrapped himself
in a bathrobe. Then he took a small pistol from the nightstand and dropped it
into his pocket. Only then did he go investigate the disturbance.
It turned out the
precautions weren’t necessary. Pounding on his door in the middle of the night
was a bedraggled, soaking-wet version of his friend Matt Barr.
“Matt? What’s going on?
It’s three in the morning!”
“My house just burned
down, Mike.”
“What the—”
“And it was deliberate. It
was arson. And whoever did it chased me in a car and tried to shoot me.”
The Congressman simply
stared at his friend for a moment, open-mouthed. Then he said, “Well, get
inside. You’re soaked. Let’s get you dried off and in some fresh clothes. Then
I want to hear everything.”
Mike brought him in, sent
Matt to the bathroom to use the towels, and laid out some of his clean sweats
for his friend to wear. He started the morning’s coffee, grabbed a pair of
thirty-pound dumbbells, and worked through some sets of concentration curls
while he waited for Matt to come tell him what the heck was going on.
Since he got married,
Kathy had improved the bachelor-pad-efficiency in which Mike used to live. Now
the furniture matched, he had a real couch rather than a futon, and decorations
adorned the walls.
When his friend changed
clothes, Congressman Vincent gave Matt a cup of coffee. Then the two of them
went to sit in the living room.
Matt said, “You know I
went to visit Alyssa yesterday.”
“Of course. How is she?”
“She said she got into a
fight again. I’ve got a lot to say about that but now’s not the time. The point
is, I got home and tried to get some sleep. I woke up sweating buckets, which I
guess was pretty logical since the doorway of my bedroom was catching fire.”
“Are you OK?”
“Well, I’m pretty messed
up emotionally right now but physically I’m OK. I got out through the window
and two things happened at about the same time. One, I noticed that the fire
was completely unaffected by the pouring rain, which made me think someone had
put some chemical accelerants on it. Two, I also noticed someone was shooting
at me. I…”
Vincent interrupted and
said, “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Shooting at me. I know,
right? It seemed like a strategic retreat was the only maneuver that made
sense. I got in the Camaro and tore up the road to get here. They chased me,
too, but I lost them as I started to get anywhere near the White House.”
The Congressman leaned
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