Read Online The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology by Jake Devlin, (with Bonnie Springs) - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jake Devlin, (with Bonnie Springs)
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like that, the
black helicopters'll be coming for you.' And even though I was
thinking of this all as a sort of silly exercise in total fiction,
that did kind of scare me some, 'cause people in power don't like to
hear anything that might rock their boat, fiction or not. So I kinda
backed off for a while, pushed all those thoughts down, and went back
to just being the guy on the beach who tells good bad jokes and
doesn't take too much too seriously ... and doesn't get taken too
seriously, either."
Jake shivered, took a deep breath and said, "Then a week or so
later, I had my first black helicopter nightmare."
-10-
Saturday, December 10, 2011
7:10 a.m. EST
New York City, New York
Jonathan Payne picked up his usual papers as he returned to his Park
Avenue penthouse from his morning jog, glancing at the headlines as
he rode up in his private elevator. One blared "BILLIONAIRE
BUYS AMERICA," with the subhead "Disaster or Opportunity?"
Another read "OBAMA OUT, DONNE IN," another read "DONNE
DID IT," another went with "DONNE DONE IT," one went
even further, with “DONNE DONE DID IT,” and the bottom
one in the stack, the only paper to remember Donne's middle name,
read "G.O.D. BUYS U.S.A. W.T.F.?"
Back in his penthouse, Payne perused each paper patiently and
persistently, making notes on a yellow legal pad, occasionally
double-checking Donne's directives on his PC, until he had 27 pages
of tightly written analysis and had downed seven large mugs of his
favorite coffee.
When Jennifer, his trophy wife (the third, and twenty years younger
than his second), blonde, with one of those squeaky voices that's
cute at first, but grates badly after about four months, brought him
an eighth mug, Jonathan leaned back, stretched and groaned as she
massaged his neck and shoulders.
“Poopsie, don't you think it's time for a break? You've been
at this for three hours straight.”
“Oh, that's good, Jenn … yeah, right there … a
little higher on the neck … ahhhhh, nice … hey, you
remember Gordy Donne?”
“Gordy, Gordy? Oh, you mean that awkward little guy who came
to our wedding? With the three Amazons with him?”
“Yeah; those were his bodyguards … oh, good; you got it
… maybe a little harder, right there. He's the guy who just
bought the country.”
“Oh, I heard something about that; Marsha and Pat were talking
about it at the gym this morning. That was last night, right?”
“Right.”
“And he really bought the whole country?”
“Right. I can't believe he finally pulled it off; he's been
wanting to do that for years.”
“So is that good or bad?”
“Some of both, but mostly good, from what I've looked at so
far.”
“Okay.”
“I've got to start calling the board, let them know we're not
going to build those new plants in Brazil and China; we'll be better
off building them right here, probably in Florida or Texas, maybe
Indiana or Wisconsin.”
“Oh, I love Florida. Are we gonna go back there soon?”
“Maybe in January. But I'm going to be pretty busy for the
next few weeks.”
“More than usual? You're already working too hard. I'm afraid
you're gonna give yourself a heart attack.”
“Oh, Jenn, you worry too much. And you know I get bored when
things are just … ahhh, that feels great. Where did you ever
learn to do that?”
“Massage school. Those spots right behind your ears are
super-sensitive. And I've got good thumbs, of course.”
“Best thumbs on the Upper East Side.”
“Don't you know it, Poopsie.”
“Love you, Jenn. But I've got to get to the phone now.”
“Oh, damn, I was hoping to entice you into the bedroom before I
have to get ready for that charity lunch at the Bernsteins'.”
“Feeling a little frisky, huh?”
“Oh, more than a little.”
“Maybe when you get back, okay?”
“Okay, Poopsie. Your neck feel better?”
“Absolutely, Jenn.”
“Maybe I'll need you to zip me up after I shower.”
“Maybe I'll do that. Off you go now.”
“Okay,
black helicopters'll be coming for you.' And even though I was
thinking of this all as a sort of silly exercise in total fiction,
that did kind of scare me some, 'cause people in power don't like to
hear anything that might rock their boat, fiction or not. So I kinda
backed off for a while, pushed all those thoughts down, and went back
to just being the guy on the beach who tells good bad jokes and
doesn't take too much too seriously ... and doesn't get taken too
seriously, either."
Jake shivered, took a deep breath and said, "Then a week or so
later, I had my first black helicopter nightmare."
-10-
Saturday, December 10, 2011
7:10 a.m. EST
New York City, New York
Jonathan Payne picked up his usual papers as he returned to his Park
Avenue penthouse from his morning jog, glancing at the headlines as
he rode up in his private elevator. One blared "BILLIONAIRE
BUYS AMERICA," with the subhead "Disaster or Opportunity?"
Another read "OBAMA OUT, DONNE IN," another read "DONNE
DID IT," another went with "DONNE DONE IT," one went
even further, with “DONNE DONE DID IT,” and the bottom
one in the stack, the only paper to remember Donne's middle name,
read "G.O.D. BUYS U.S.A. W.T.F.?"
Back in his penthouse, Payne perused each paper patiently and
persistently, making notes on a yellow legal pad, occasionally
double-checking Donne's directives on his PC, until he had 27 pages
of tightly written analysis and had downed seven large mugs of his
favorite coffee.
When Jennifer, his trophy wife (the third, and twenty years younger
than his second), blonde, with one of those squeaky voices that's
cute at first, but grates badly after about four months, brought him
an eighth mug, Jonathan leaned back, stretched and groaned as she
massaged his neck and shoulders.
“Poopsie, don't you think it's time for a break? You've been
at this for three hours straight.”
“Oh, that's good, Jenn … yeah, right there … a
little higher on the neck … ahhhhh, nice … hey, you
remember Gordy Donne?”
“Gordy, Gordy? Oh, you mean that awkward little guy who came
to our wedding? With the three Amazons with him?”
“Yeah; those were his bodyguards … oh, good; you got it
… maybe a little harder, right there. He's the guy who just
bought the country.”
“Oh, I heard something about that; Marsha and Pat were talking
about it at the gym this morning. That was last night, right?”
“Right.”
“And he really bought the whole country?”
“Right. I can't believe he finally pulled it off; he's been
wanting to do that for years.”
“So is that good or bad?”
“Some of both, but mostly good, from what I've looked at so
far.”
“Okay.”
“I've got to start calling the board, let them know we're not
going to build those new plants in Brazil and China; we'll be better
off building them right here, probably in Florida or Texas, maybe
Indiana or Wisconsin.”
“Oh, I love Florida. Are we gonna go back there soon?”
“Maybe in January. But I'm going to be pretty busy for the
next few weeks.”
“More than usual? You're already working too hard. I'm afraid
you're gonna give yourself a heart attack.”
“Oh, Jenn, you worry too much. And you know I get bored when
things are just … ahhh, that feels great. Where did you ever
learn to do that?”
“Massage school. Those spots right behind your ears are
super-sensitive. And I've got good thumbs, of course.”
“Best thumbs on the Upper East Side.”
“Don't you know it, Poopsie.”
“Love you, Jenn. But I've got to get to the phone now.”
“Oh, damn, I was hoping to entice you into the bedroom before I
have to get ready for that charity lunch at the Bernsteins'.”
“Feeling a little frisky, huh?”
“Oh, more than a little.”
“Maybe when you get back, okay?”
“Okay, Poopsie. Your neck feel better?”
“Absolutely, Jenn.”
“Maybe I'll need you to zip me up after I shower.”
“Maybe I'll do that. Off you go now.”
“Okay,
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