Lewis Cole: Primary Storm Part 20

"Yeah. Stand in front of the door. Nice and still. Two steps to the left and ---"

"To the right, moron, to the right, didn't you hear what I just said?"

I gave him a smirk to let him know he wasn't the only one playing games here tonight, and he shook his head and I stood before the door to Room 312 and gave it a sharp knock. From inside I could make out the low murmur of a television set and then the sound of someone approaching the door. I stood still and quiet, but out of the corner of my eye, I made out Felix to my left, standing flat against the wall, and now he was wearing thin black leather gloves. d.a.m.n Felix. I hadn't even seen him do that.

The sound of the door unlocking almost startled me, and then I took two steps to the right and --- Felix moved whip-snap fast, going right into the room, one hand on the shoulder of a very surprised Chuck Bittner, wearing a white terry-cloth robe and --- A heavy, meaty sound as Felix punched him square in the nose, and --- I followed in, the door shutting behind me. Chuck was on the ground, and Felix quickly tore off a strip of duct tape, slapped it over Chuck's mouth, and Chuck scrambled to move away from the pain and the attention, and Felix got up and rolled Chuck over on his side. Chuck then tried to take advantage of that, by clambering up on his hands and knees, but like some d.a.m.n wrestling move from TV, Felix slammed into him with his whole body weight, falling onto the man's back with his knees, and that must have hurt like h.e.l.l.

Chuck collapsed with an "oomph" and a groan, and in the fast mess that followed, Felix worked quickly again, binding Chuck's wrists together with duct tape. Felix got up, breathing just a bit hard, and then he grabbed Chuck by his upper arms and maneuvered him onto an unmade bed. Chuck hit the bed on his side, another moan following, and he looked at me and I looked at him. Blood was streaming from his nose, trickling down the shiny gray duct tape. Felix looked to me and said, "Gla.s.s of water, if I may? And don't forgot what I said about touching things."

I went into the open bathroom, got a small drinking gla.s.s, holding it with a white washcloth, and filled it with water using another washcloth on the tap. I came back out into the room and the television was just a bit louder. Felix took the gla.s.s and drank it all, and then put the gla.s.s in his pocket-no use leaving DNA evidence behind-and came back over to the bed. Chuck looked at me and looked at Felix, and started making grunting noises from behind the tape.

Chapter Fourteen.

Felix shook his head, took a chair and sat across from Chuck.

Felix said, "Before we begin, my apologies. I have the utmost respect for men and women in and out of uniform who've volunteered to serve. I might have been in the service as well, except for a juvenile record that made even the most aggressive recruiter turn gray with dismay. So. Having said that, my apologies for breaking into your room, sir, and causing you pain and discomfort."

I stood there, waiting, and Felix leaned over and said, "But apologies aside, sir, I have loyalty to that gentleman standing by the wall, a loyalty I take quite seriously, and before the two of us leave here tonight, we're going to reach an understanding. If I make myself clear, just nod your head."

There was no nod, just a vigorous shaking of the head, and violent grunting noises that, if they had been decipherable, were no doubt laced with a host of obscenities. If this bothered Felix, he didn't show it. He didn't have to. There were other ways.

Another strip of tape appeared in his hands, and this time, it was shoved against his bleeding nose. There was a m.u.f.fled howl as Felix worked the tape, blocking both nostrils, and Chuck's chest started heaving. Felix leaned in again and said, "Nothing works one hundred percent, so I'm sure you're getting some oxygen into your system ... but is it enough? We'll see .... In the meantime, stop flailing around and give me a nod that you understand what I'm saying, and the tape comes off your nose."

Chuck's fleshy face started changing colors, and then, movement stopped and I thought he had pa.s.sed out, but no, he nodded. Briefly and quickly, but he nodded. And true to his word, Felix removed the tape from his nose, and there was a hoa.r.s.e, rasping sound as Chuck started panting through his nose.

Felix, his voice now soothing, said, "Ah, now, that wasn't hard, was it? Just a little nod and you started breathing again. A wonderful thing. We're very proud of you, sir."

The breathing became more normal, but there was anger behind those eyes, a deep and abiding anger that made me want to look away, but Felix would not move, would not flinch, and he stayed right there, right in the man's face.

Felix said "I don't think I need to tell you, but I'm going to remind you of what's next. I can take the tape off your mouth and you can start in on how my friend and I broke in here, a.s.saulted you, and how you're going to have us arrested and ruin us and sue us and take all our money and our homes. It's what I'd expect from a man in your position. I've heard it before. And you know what? It doesn't mean a d.a.m.n thing. So let's not waste each other's time with such nonsense. We came in here for a specific reason, one specific goal, and once that goal's been achieved, we'll all move on. Do you understand what I'm saying? If so, do favor me a with another nod."

I waited, wondering how far Chuck would go in fighting Felix, but there was just the faintest of head movements. Felix took it and there was such pleasure in his voice, I almost expected him to start clapping.

"Very good again, sir," Felix said. "So. Let us begin. Here's the agreement we're going to reach. You and the Grayson campaign are going to leave Lewis Cole alone. You're not to contact him or bother him in anyway. You're not going to even mention his name in your staff meetings. You're not to leak information about him to any friendly press or Internet blogger. In other words, you are going to forget his name, his appearance, his life, his background, his very existence. Now. Have you understood everything I've said? Have you? How about a little nod for the home team?"

The eyes were still burning with hate and anger, but there was that faint nod. "Good. Now, having gotten that out of the way, I'm sure you're wondering, what's in it for you? What possible benefit do you gain from having agreed to all that?"

Felix carefully crossed his legs, clasped his hands over his knees. "A smart and legitimate question. And here's the answer. We depart. At once. Never to bother you again, never to cross paths again, never even to breathe the same air in the same room. We depart, you depart, and after the primary next Tuesday, you and the general move on to South Carolina and all is right with the world. Do we have an agreement?"

The air seemed heavy in the room as we waited. I suppose I should have felt guilty or embarra.s.sed or upset at what Felix was doing to this man, but I remembered Bittner's touch upon my arm, and the words he spoke about my service in the Department of Defense. I had lost dear ones many years ago that were close enough to be family, especially one woman (ah, Cissy, came the quick and sharp memory), and having this man before me try to use that service and those memories for political purposes ... it was like someone urinating on the altar at Notre Dame at the height of a sacred Ma.s.s.

Not to mention the threats that would have impacted both Barbara and Annie.

So I felt fine. But still, I waited.

Chuck looked at me and then looked at Felix, and there was the nod.

Felix unfolded his legs. "Ah, good. Now that we have this agreement, I guess I can take the tape off and we'll be on our way. ... "

Was that it? I wondered. Was that going to be it? But I guess I knew Felix better than I thought, for when he leaned forward to remove the tape, he suddenly stopped and sat back down in the chair.

Another few moments of waiting, and Felix quickly shook his head. "No. It's not going to work. I mean ... we're all men here, men of the world, worldly men ... how can any agreement we reach last when you're under such duress? What would stop you from calling the police after we leave? I mean, Lewis here would probably skate, being such good friends with the local gendarmes, but not me. As you could probably deduce, I've had my share of police attention over the years. No, I'm afraid this isn't going to work. I'm going to have to come up with something else. Lewis?"

"Yes?"

"Any ideas?"

"Fresh out," I said. "But give me a few minutes or thereabouts. I'm sure I'll come up with something."

Felix turned back to the former navy man and said, "So, that's the quandary we're in. You see, if you were anybody else, I wouldn't have any problem. Pain and the threat of pain are wonderful motivating factors. A few minutes with an exposed light bulb and some tweezers, you'd be ready to sign over the t.i.tle property to your home to make me leave. But once we start down that path, well, there're no good choices available to us. You can still go back on your promise to us ... even more, if pain is involved, because no matter what pull Lewis might have with the police, it won't go very far if pain is involved. So it has to be something else. Something else that matters to you, .something that will ensure that whatever promise you made here to leave Lewis alone actually sticks."

Felix then got up and walked around the room, looked at the television set --- which was broadcasting a C-SPAN program about the day's speeches from the different primary candidates --- and then grabbing the remote, he sat on the bed with Chuck. Felix patted him on the shoulder and then started flipping through the channels, and then he toggled a switch on the remote that brought up a menu selection guide on the television.

"Time for a little contemporary history lesson," Felix said, stretching himself out as Chuck kept his hateful stare on me. "Do you know what the single largest entertainment source -- in terms of money made --- is on cable and satellite television nowadays? Do you? Oh, I'm sorry, you can't reply. Well, it's not much of a challenging quiz. The answer is, of course, p.o.r.nography. Hard to believe, but it's true. All these large hotel and motel corporations, and legitimate cable and satellite television networks, they all have a hand in promoting and trafficking hard-core p.o.r.nography. Oh, this type of investment doesn't get much play in the news media --- especially since some of the very same news media have a hefty stake in p.o.r.n ---and some conservative groups try to embarra.s.s them to keep them from doing such kinds of business, but you know what? Even in the most conservative states, there's a healthy demand for it. And when there's demand, business will follow. Such that even in a quaint New Hampshire resort like Tyler Beach, the most high-grade hotel, the Lafayette House, will offer to its adult consumers a wide range of p.o.r.nographic delights that even thirty years ago might have gotten you some serious jail time in any major city across the nation."

I tried not to smile. I had an idea where Felix was going. Felix went through the menu choices and said, "Each man to his own poison, I say, and to each man his taste in p.o.r.n. Lord knows I have no halo over my head ... so let's take a look at some of these t.i.tles. Hmmm ... Locker Room Studfest, Sat.u.r.day Night Cruising Delight, Buns and Rods of Steel --- not really Casablanca, but they sure do offer a varied sort of entertainment. Don't you think?"

Felix rolled off the bed and his voice got sharp. "So this is how it's going to be. I'm going to remove the tape. You're going to say in a nice, clear voice that nothing is required of Lewis, that nothing is going to happen to Lewis. And if I remove the tape and I don't hear those words, then the tape goes back on, and your television starts displaying the latest and greatest in gay male p.o.r.nography. Lewis and I stay here for a while. Order lots of room service. Play the television really, really loud, so when management comes and kicks us out ... well, the story the next day, just a few days from the Tuesday primary, is that a campaign adviser to General Tucker Grayson entertained two men in his hotel room while watching well-muscled men have their way with each other on the television. All programming, of course, recorded on the room bill. Do we have an understanding now, Mr. Bittner?"

A quick nod this time. No hesitation. "Good," Felix said. "I'm going to remove the tape and wait for those magic words."

Chuck winced as the tape came off --- some skin was probably caught in the adhesive --- and he breathed in some and said, "You have my word."

"Glad to hear that," Felix said. "But let's put some more meat into that."

Chuck closed his eyes and said, "What you said ... nothing is going to happen to Lewis Cole. No news story, no news leak. Nothing. You have my word on it."

Felix turned to me and said, "Satisfied?"

"Almost," I said. "One other thing."

Chuck cursed and said, "Changing the rules of the game already, are we?"

"No," I said. "Just being political for a moment. I'm sure you know the drill."

"Fine, a.s.shole," he spat out. "What else?"

"Spenser Harris," I said.

"Spenser who?"

"Spenser Harris. Is he an operative of yours?"

He shook his head, licked his dry lips. "Never heard of him."

"Perhaps under another name. He's in his late thirties. Trim. Black hair, a few streaks of white on the sides. Tanned skin. Fit. Likes to dress well. Occasionally he pretends to be a Secret Service agent."

Another shake of the head. "Look, I don't know the name, don't know the description. You can blackmail me all you want, do whatever you want, but I don't know Spenser Harris, and I don't know anybody like him."

Felix was still looking at me, raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged. Felix rolled Chuck over on his side and like magic, a folding knife appeared in Felix's gloved hand, and after a moment or two of sawing, the tape at Chuck's arms was cut free. Felix stepped back and I got up. Chuck rolled over and looked at me, the hate still in his eyes.

I said, "We'll be on our way, but I'll leave you with one more thought, Chuck. This is our turf. Our field of battle. Even if you check out of here tomorrow and think of doing something funny with me, we have friends with the management here, friends that owe us favors. So don't think that coming up with an invoice showing your p.o.r.n movie rental can't be arranged in a very short period of time. Enough to impact this primary, or any other future primary we choose. Got it?"

"a.s.shole," Chuck said, sitting up in bed, tearing at the strips of tape around his wrists, fingers fumbling some.

"Probably, but you invited me to bring it on. Which is what I did."

He rubbed his face and said, "p.u.s.s.y boy. You had to come in here with muscle to do your dirty work. What kind of f.u.c.king wimp are you?"

I was going to say something but Felix was quicker. He said, "Truth be told, sir, I'm the wimp."

"What?"

Felix put the knife away. "Lewis told me about his past encounters with you and your threats. He told me what he had planned for you. Trust me on this, I'm the wimp in this equation. I managed to calm him down, for if he had come up here by himself, you'd now be in that bathtub, bleeding, still bound with duct tape but missing a few inches of flesh that I'm sure you're awfully fond of."

He said, "Get the f.u.c.k out. Now."

Felix said, "Ready?"

"You got it."

So we got up and we left.

Once we went down in an elevator and made our way through the lobby, outside the cold air was refreshing and it felt good to be out of that room. We paused in the parking lot and Felix said, "You okay?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

Felix brought his hands together, up to his face, blew warm air into them. "Always nice to practice one's skills, to see that you still got it. And tonight, I still got it. Makes me feel good about myself. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm all right ... though I have to admit I feel guilty."

"Guilty? About what?"

I started walking to my Ford. "Guilty about lying to Chuck."

"When did you lie to Chuck?"

"When I said we were friends with management. Maybe you are but I'm not. I think management here is a jerk. But it made sense to tell Chuck otherwise."

I'm not sure Felix realized the joking nature of my comment, for he took it seriously. He said, "Well, we all have compromises we have to live with. I'm sure you'll get over it."

"Yeah."

At my Ford I turned and looked back at the Lafayette Hotel.

I had Felix here at my side, and with his skills and talents, I'm sure we could have returned back to the hotel and have gotten to work, and might have been quickly successful breaking in and finding that surveillance tape.

Yet ...

We had been lucky tonight, getting in and doing our business and getting out with an agreement that pleased me, for not only protecting my sorry b.u.t.t but also removing a potential embarra.s.sment for a political candidate I didn't have particular allegiance to, but who was important to someone very dear to me. So, all in all, it had been a productive night. I didn't want to push it.

"Lewis?"

"Yeah?"

Felix looked over at me from the pa.s.senger's side of my Ford.

"You okay?"

"Sure," I said, opening the door. "Just daydreaming for a second."

"That's fine," he said. "But how about daydreaming your way to getting my tired a.s.s to home and to bed."

"No problem," I said, and in a matter of moments, we were on our way north, back on Atlantic Avenue.

Felix lives in North Tyler, on Rosemount Lane, a street that juts off to the right and which has fairly nice views of the ocean. There are six homes on Rosemount Lane, and five of them are cl.u.s.tered together near the road's entrance. Felix's stands alone, on a slight rise at the end of the road, and though he has never come right out and said it, I know he likes the location of the house. Homes like his are easy to defend.

I drove into his driveway and he said, "Coffee? Drink? Further conversation?"

"I thought you wanted to get to bed."

""h.e.l.l, Lewis, I may be getting old, but I'm not ready to be buried."

"Neither am I, but I've had a long day. Thanks for your help.

I owe you one."

He grinned. 'We've gone beyond determining who owes whom anymore, Lewis. You just take care of yourself."

"I will. And are you finished with the Nash Pomeroy campaign?"

"Oh, probably," he said, retrieving his leather bag and putting it on his lap. "Let's be honest. When you're sent out on a research trip like this, to find out oppo stuff on your candidate, the people who hire you are hoping for the best. They've heard the rumors, they've looked for the facts, and now they want to know the truth. It's like the guy who hires a private investigator to see if his wife is cheating on him. Deep in his heart he knows, but he wants to grasp at the straw and hope that it's all a mistake. Well, the guys who hired me ... tomorrow they're going to fire me, no doubt about it, once I submit my written report. But I've already been paid in advance, my job is done, and there you go."

"A nice, professional att.i.tude, Felix. You'll go far."

"I'm sure. And speaking of going places ... you do well by that Annie girl, okay?"

'What makes you say that?"

"Just a thought. You back her up. I know she's working long hours and doesn't have much time for you and all that happy c.r.a.p, but she's doing something important. And it can't last too much longer. So you don't screw this one up. She's ... she's made you a better person, my friend. You smile more, you talk more, and you don't walk around anymore like the weight of the G.o.dd.a.m.n world is on your shoulders. So. Got it?"

"Got it, Dr. Felix," I said. "You go on and let me sleep."