It's Not Always What it Seems Pt. 02

"I don't think anyone is just a piece of meat." She looked up at me with a wry smile.

"Kathy was right, you are one of the good guys."

Although she'd indicated what she wanted to do, she didn't tell me what she had in mind, or how it was going to work out. "Just what have you got in mind to take down the Senator?"

She didn't answer for a moment, and then answered with a question. "Are you going to help?"

"Help with what?" I asked, tingles going off in my mind to be wary.

"I guess this is it," she quietly said after nearly a minute, "Where I lay it all on the table."

"Look, Stephanie," I said, reaching out and taking her hand. "You haven't told me anything yet. You have made an accusation that your boss is behind Kathy's death, without any proof. You're indicating you want to take him down, but haven't told me anything about how. I just buried my sister, I haven't any idea what exactly you know or how you intend to prove it, but I can say that he's very rich, and very powerful. Whatever you think you've got in mind; you'd better think over quite carefully."

She nodded her head, "we have." I almost missed it.

"We?" Again, she sat quietly. "The trouble with schemes is that it's so easy to slip up, just like that. Whatever you're planning, you just implicated someone else through that little slip."

"It wasn't a slip."

"Ah," I said, nodding. "You're letting me know someone else is involved? It only took me a second of thinking about it before I realized who it must be. "Cassandra?" Her nodding head confirmed my guess.

"Do you like spaghetti?"

Her question, a complete change of subject, seemed out of place. "Yeah. Why?"

"We're having spaghetti tomorrow night. I think you should join us. She picked up my phone, and when she found it locked, asked me to unlock it. I was a bit wary, and when I asked why, she said she wanted my notepad. I pulled up notepad for her and watched as she typed, "Dinner. 7 pm Sharp." She added the address and handed it back.

~

I hadn't met Cassandra directly yet, but recognized her from the funeral. She'd been away from me, seen only from a distance, but now she greeted me at the door. "James?" she asked, opening the door and sticking her hand out both.

"Jim," I answered, "you're Cassandra?"

"Guilty as charged," she giggled. "I just opened a bottle of Merlot to go with the spaghetti. Can I get you a glass?"

"Please." She turned away and I wiped the slobber off my chin as she was facing away. That Cassandra was equally as stunning as Stephanie, was an understatement. That she was lesbian and hitting for the other team, equally stunning. She was barefoot, long shapely legs extending from the floor to some not quite short-shorts. Her midriff was bare, a halter top encasing two quite ample breasts. She was, just like Stephanie, a knock-out, although knowing she wasn't interested in men momentarily left me shaking my head at the unfairness of such a beauty only swinging for the opposite team. I watched as she stepped to the cabinet where the bottle of wine sat on top. Bending over and opening the cabinet door she withdrew three wine glasses. At least I think she got all three as they were on top a few moments later, but I don't think my eyes ever left her ass. When she'd bent, her butt cheeks had appeared below the edge of the shorts, and had totally distracted me.

"Hello, Jim," Stephanie said, sticking her head out from the kitchen. "Is Cassandra getting you a glass of wine?" I saw her head drop to my bag and I wiggled a finger, beckoning her closer. Holding up the pre-written note for her to read, I answered aloud, "Yeah, she offered a Merlot which sounds absolutely wonderful."

Do you know whether your apartment is bugged? DO NOT SPEAK.

Her reluctance on being forthright the previous afternoon had set my senses on edge. Was it possible that she wasn't going to propose something illegal? I thought not, it all made sense. Blackmail? Extortion? That I knew a thing or two about the internet and internet security as well as physical security through my company couldn't be just a coincidence. I'd gotten to where I was by being leery of things that just seemed to fall into my lap.

She shook her head no.

"Spaghetti? I hope you make a mean pasta!" I said, waving my hand and beckoning with my head for her to return to the kitchen, and motioning for Cassandra, who was watching quizzically, to continue with the wine. I handed the note to her, she nodded in understanding as she read it, and then looking at me shook her head no, shrugging her shoulders and indicating she didn't know.

"You're in for a treat," Cassandra answered for Stephanie, "I think she makes the best I've ever had."

It took just a few minutes to scan the apartment, almost immediately finding what I was looking for, and then continuing through the living room, bedrooms, closets, kitchen, bath - finding no additional electronic eavesdropping, either aural or visual. "What kind of music do you like?" I asked, walking over to the stereo visible on the bookshelf when I'd finished. "Country? Rock? Disco?"

"Disco?" Cassandra laughed, "Just how old are you?"

"Hey, ya never know what people like," I answered, holding up the next prepared note. White Noise -- helps block laser listening devices. She nodded, and turned on some Elton John. The catchy beat of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road began through the speakers. I gave her the thumbs up, pointed at the potted plant in the center of the room next to the stereo, indicating I'd found something.

As soon as I was done sweeping the room, the meal was ready, and Cassandra and I stepped into the small kitchen to help carry things out to the table.

"What's going on?" Stephanie mouthed to me, apparently taking my "Don't Speak" to heart. I pulled my notes out again. Just making sure we're not snooped on or listened to. Don't talk about anything you're thinking about until I give you the OK." She read the note and passed it to Casandra, both of them nodding in understanding.

The conversation during dinner was normal, I asked all kinds of softball questions about Kathy during dinner, verbally expanding on my remorse for not having been there for her, expanding on my heartache that, with losing her, my entire family was now dead, repeating again how shocked I was to learn she'd died of a heroin overdose -- how I'd never learned that she'd been into drugs. For the appearance of whomever would listen to this later, I was just a grieving brother commiserating with my sisters two co-workers. That what I was saying completely counteracted what Stephanie had told me the day before, she readily picked up on. Dinner over, I walked over to the open window blinds and looked out into the night. "Kathy always loved the night. Watching the stars, watching nighttime thunderstorms roll in." I reached over and drew the blinds. "I don't think I'll ever be able to look into the dark again without thinking of her." Turning I walked over to the stereo, selected some different music, and then pushed the potted plant off the shelf. It shattered on the hardwood floor with shards and potting soil spreading everywhere. "Oh my god, I can't believe what an imbecile I am. Can you give me a broom and dustpan, I'll clean it up." Cassandra said it was in the kitchen, so I stepped toward her, purposely stepping on the miniature microphone that I'd exposed. I swept up the dirt and broken pot, pulling the crushed mic out and setting it on the table, before getting my equipment and sweeping the area once more. It was only the one mic.

Turning back, I walked back to the table and sat down. I pulled out my last note and passed it over. Give me your cell phones. They hesitated, but then did exactly that. I pulled the batteries, which they apparently didn't even know how to do, and then quietly asked, "Is that all? Any old cell phones in a drawer or anything?" They both shook their heads no.

"Ok ladies, what's up? I presume you have something in mind, and probably something illegal. I get it, Senator Jacobson is a bastard. He killed my sister, or at least you think he did, and he has the police and probably the FBI on his side." I was talking quietly, and rolled my eyes around the apartment. "No place is ever completely safe to talk, but I found no other indications of bugs or cameras. The blinds block the visual, and the music creates reverberations which make it almost impossible for acoustic listening devices to pick up our voices if we're talking quietly. But you'll have to assume that anything you've ever said in this room has been listened to."

Cassandra and Steph looked at each other. Stephanie whispered, "I'm pretty sure he trusts us."

"You may be right," I whispered, "but somebody put that bug here. If you've never done anything against him, I would guess his guard is down, but guys like him -- they don't get where they are by trusting anyone. I will guarantee that every e-mail, every phone conversation, anything happening in the office, is being spied on by him. Your... trysts with clients? I'll guarantee that wherever you were, he was watching, someone was watching. He's not paying you to suck cocks without confirming you're doing it, and that the clients are getting their jollies from you. It's got to be. He's got to have something over these guys that he can use." I looked at them, they seemed a bit sober. "So, am I wrong? You want to make him pay or what? What have you got in mind?"

"Sex of course." Cassandra was the one that spoke up. "We're going to ruin him. We're going to blackmail him, make him voluntarily resign, and walk away from Washington. We're going to make him go back home and never show his face on the political scene again. I'm going to make him pay for our silence. He doesn't care about anything except money and I want to hit him where it hurts."

I nodded some more, contemplating what she said and what Stephanie had told me. It took a minute for their scheme to begin to make sense. "And you need me for my security skills? My internet, my cameras, my monitoring, and to make sure you're not being monitored," I said, nodding my head around the room once more, "and all of that?" She nodded but, somehow, I knew that wasn't all, something still didn't add up. "But the Senator... he isn't into women, is he?" I asked, the inkling of what I wasn't understanding beginning to permeate through my denseness. Stephanie's head slowly shook back and forth in a no. I glanced at Cassandra; she was just looking back at me.

She couldn't really mean that, could she?

I just sat; nothing was said. "So far, I hear a half-baked scheme, with no chance of success. Perhaps you should tell me more?"

"We need you," Steph began, "to also let him rape you and get it all on camera."

~

The scheme was ludicrous, and I told them so. But, despite the half-baked feel initially, I found out they'd been doing their homework. The Hotel where the Senators attacks took place was monitored on his floor, anyone coming or going was on Hotel Security Cameras. Once inside, they were fairly certain that there were no cameras, although I was certain just the opposite was true. "So, when you seduce these marks, you take them back to his suite, or I guess you said you give them a key-card and let them come up for themselves?" She nodded. "I'll guarantee you're wrong. I'd bet every single sexual encounter you've had since you went to work for him has been recorded."

Steph shook her head no. "No, I met a guy just before I started, and we dated for about three months... four months," she corrected.

"And?" I prompted.

"We were pretty heavy into each other for a while. It didn't work out." Something in the way she said it, clued my next question. "And he broke up with you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Again, she shrugged. "I told him." She didn't have to say what she'd told him, but I made her say it.

"You told him you'd been an escort in college. Probably some kinky or slightly kinky act that he pushed you for?"

"He wanted to pee in my mouth." I nodded, waiting. "He wanted to know if I'd ever done anything like that before and I admitted I had. He wanted to know what boyfriend had ever done such a thing, and I told him it wasn't a boyfriend, it had been a client." We sat quietly for a moment.

"So, a day or so later he came back, and said that he couldn't take that. It was OK for him to pee in your mouth, but that you had been an escort was too much." She just looked at me and nodded.

"Whether you knew it or not, he went back and reported to the Senator that you were his girl. Probably only 5 or 6 weeks later did the Senator use you for the first time. Whether you knew it or not, I'll guarantee the Senator had you checked out, before he offered you a job. Your so-called 'boyfriend' was the Senators boy, checking you out, making sure you would do what the Senator wanted. He knew you'd been an escort; it was just a matter of easing you back into it."

"That Son of a Bitch." I nodded, let her simmer down a bit before I turned to Cassandra.

"What about you?" It didn't take much to discover that she also had been marked by a lover, although a female lover, and a previous secret that she really didn't want known had come out.

"I was a stripper during college. I didn't know how he knew, but he let me know when I went to work for him that he'd known I'd stripped."

"Just stripping and dancing?" I asked. She just looked at me for a moment, and then shook her head no. I nodded, understanding that just like Stephanie, she'd sold more than just views of her body.

"The other girls too? He's got something on each of them?" Cassandra nodded again.

"One more time, ladies," I reiterated. "You've done a pretty good job, but I'd almost guarantee that you've not been good enough. The Senator must have an entire staff of people digging up dirt on everyone else. What makes you think he can be had?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm hoping you can help. Just like you swept this apartment, to sweep the Penthouse, install cameras, hook into the Hotel Security, and make it work for us, and then blackmail his ass."

"What about his surveillance? Where is he keeping his dirt? Not only on others, but on you? Somebody put that bug in your living room, who, and when? Where has he got cameras that you don't know about? What about the sexual favors that you've done for him, he can blackmail you with those as well as you can blackmail him with something else? And what exactly do you plan on gaining?"

"Senator Jacobson has $796 million in off-shore secret accounts, along with about $150 million in on-shore public accounts that he advertises to make people think he's honest. I think $796 million split three ways would make a hell of an impact, and a video showing unequivocally him raping someone would ruin his political career. He was elected by an ultra-conservative constituency that would lynch him outright it that ever came out."

~

I told them it was hopeless, that there was too much to do, not enough people, too much chance that their plan was already compromised. They didn't want to admit that of course, but I told them no and left.

Later, in my hotel, I looked at the picture I'd put beside my bed of Kathy and me. The bastard. In my heart I knew they were right. Most likely, when the people that had paid him part of the $796 million he had in off-shore accounts had been unhappy about the failed vote that they'd paid for, he'd had to return the money, lost their trust, and had offed my sister in retribution. It was 4 am when I picked up the phone.

~

"Fuck Jim, it's 2 am. This better be good."

"Can you come to Washington?"

"This couldn't wait until morning?"

"It's about Kathy." Larry had been sweet on Kathy forever, had never given up on that maybe someday she'd finally succumb to his desires.

"Oh crap, you're kidding?" I could hear the woe in his voice when I told him she was dead. I said nothing. "What happened?"

"They found her floating in the Potomac. Officially a heroin overdose."

"Bullshit."

"Exactly. Can you come?"

"Yeah. Of course. Need me to bring anything?"

"Everything. I'll send you an address tomorrow of where to ship it."

~

It didn't take long with Larry's and my skills to find the electronic trails. Video feeds, audio feeds, we set up surveillance of the surveillance, using Jacobson's own listening and recording devices. It didn't take a genius to figure that the security vault for his materials was in his countryside mansion, but just as the information was going "to" him electronically, it could also come "from" him electronically.

I gave it two weeks before I called Stephanie again and asked her to come to my apartment. I'd rented a bare-bones apartment to save money. Although, when I was working, I did ok, I didn't have buckets of money put away either. We'd rented a tilt-up garage space, installed our own security to monitor ourselves and our workspace, and Larry had put up a cot and slept there. He'd spent two weeks penetrating what he could of the Senators, but we'd still need some personal access.

"Steph," I said, when she arrived. I motioned for her to be silent, and Larry swept her person and purse. Finding nothing, we popped the battery out of her cell phone. When he was done his eyes gave me the high sign. "This is Larry. My buddy and cohort for..." I paused, "too many years. He was also sweet on Kathy, always figured that when she came to her senses, she might become Mrs. Larry, but that never happened. So, he's in, no questions asked that he doesn't already know the answers to."

Steph initially appeared stunned. "So, you think we can do it?"

"We've already gotten started. We've captured a lot of their monitoring and it's now coming to us, but that's not enough."

"What do you need?"

"Mostly money, but we'll need access to his computer." She was silent for a moment.

"How much money do you need?"

"How much have you got?"

"I've got exactly $100,000 in a safe deposit box, and $186,000 invested. Cassandra has virtually the same."

"Can we have some of it?"

"You can have all of it. If it helps us get that bastard, it will be well worth it."

"We'll have to cut Larry into a share you know, and we'll probably have to leave the country forever. Whether we force him out or not, he'll be after us."

Larry had not asked about the payoff until then, but said "Just, um, how much are we looking at?"

"Probably $200 million, give or take," I answered. He nodded.

"Split 4 ways? $50 million each?"

"Almost $800 million, $200 million each," Steph answered.

Larry's eyes bugged out. "Holy shit!"

"Yeah, and all of it illegal, and hidden. When we get it, he'll never be able to admit he lost it, at least not legally."

"What about access to his computer? Any way we can get close to that? Or, whether you can get close to that?"

"What do we have to do?"

"Ideally, I'd love to give you a USB flash that would automatically install and transmit everything we need from his own computer, but that's very dangerous anymore, especially with a government computer. I'm guessing he's got a personal computer, and a government/congressional computer?" Larry had taken over; it was his area of expertise. Stephanie nodded. "Ok, as expected," we'll steer clear of the government one, he won't keep anything on that anyway. Especially the USB, that would trigger an unauthorized access alarm and the place would be swarming with FBI security people virtually before you could get out of the room. But all we need is his personal computer and for that..." He went into never-never land as far as I was concerned, and I tuned out. "Do you think you can do that?"

"Casandra can," she answered, "she does all of that stuff in his office. How soon?"