The man reflected in the mirror looked rich and powerful, imposing, and Will had been meticulous in honing that very image. Money and power talked in every culture on earth, but especially in the world of Washington politics. One thing he’d learned early on was that if he wanted people to take him seriously when he announced his intention to run for Senate, then he had to look as well as act the part.
Tucking his hand-written notes into the breast pocket of his jacket, he picked up his phone from the marble counter of the vanity and checked the many messages and e-mails he’d received overnight after he’d silenced his phone. Officers had contacted him from the NSA, DHS, FBI and CIA. One or two of whom he’d worked with in contract and paramilitary work before taking an office job with The Company.
Some congratulated him and wished him well on his early retirement; other messages were work related.
It didn’t surprise him that a large portion of the remaining e-mails had to do with the new situation with Briar Jones that had happened in the past hour. He’d timed it that way.
He was even less surprised with the angry response and demand for a retraction from her handler.
Not likely.
But one text stood out from all the others and made him pause, a frown pulling at his forehead. From an unknown number, the only message a minus sign bracketed by asterisks.
Jones was still alive.
Shit.
This was the fucking last thing he needed to deal with this morning. He typed back a brusque reply to the operative and hit send.
Deal with it. Now.
He didn’t need to elaborate on what would happen if Jones wasn’t eliminated in the next few hours.
Already his mind was thinking three steps ahead. Will had been so careful but he couldn’t leave this new development to chance. He’d have to use an outside contract agent to take out the assassin he’d sent after Jones. Otherwise there were too many unknowns happening all at once and he couldn’t risk someone exposing him.
Unfortunately Jones was smart and so was her damn handler. They were all capable of ruining his plans so they’d all have to go.
Will took out a burner phone from his briefcase that couldn’t be traced to him and made two calls. Within ten minutes he had what he needed and wired the deposit from his offshore account to the new man he’d hired. Next he deleted all his messages and e-mails, immediately putting them out of his mind. He couldn’t dwell on what was happening with Jones, he had the most important speech of his life to prepare for.
D.C.’s wealthy and political elite were attending this brunch in New York to celebrate his upcoming retirement next weekend. His wife would be in attendance also. Currently Barbara was being pampered in the city’s most expensive and exclusive spa, where he’d booked her last minute for the past two days with one call to a contact.
Being connected in his power circle had its advantages for almost anything and as an intelligence officer of some repute he’d long ago perfected the art of knowing how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. His marriage, while not perfect for either of them in many aspects, was necessary to his political career. He’d made sure Barb understood that early on, and that she knew how to play her part. In return she’d live the life of a socialite, attending various social events with the country’s most powerful people. Something she’d always wanted. Her loyalty to him had never wavered, and he was thankful for that.
Voters expected their candidates to be settled, responsible, trustworthy. Staying married was necessary to project that image, and it was in his personality to never quit anyway. He had a reputation for being uncompromising on his positions and he was proud of that.
Will fastened the buttons on his jacket and smoothed a hand down the front of it. His wife might not be in love with him anymore the way she had been when they’d first married, nor he with her, but she sure as hell was in love with the money they had now. Easily ten times what he’d made in his best years with The Company. All of it earned in side ops that were off the books and decidedly on the dark side of the gray scale that made up the American legal system.
Manipulating the system wasn’t that hard, if you knew how to play the game. After all this time running clandestine ops all over the world from both sides of the desk, he was an expert. Barb knew that damaging his image would have severe repercussions for them both and that if she ever tried to divorce him, their prenup would leave her back where she’d started. As long as he was discreet about his affairs and didn’t embarrass her with a public scandal, she would stay with him. Their marriage might not be perfect but it was a hell of a lot better than most in Washington.