Free Politics of Blood (Gray Spear Society Book 8) by Alex Siegel

Get a little sleep. I'll find you when I need you again."
    "Yes, sir. Thanks."
    Perry walked off.
    * * *
    "We're thinking about giving the keynote on Saturday to Congressman Davis," Sandra Holt said. "His reelection campaign is in a dead heat. He needs the exposure."
    President Haley shook his head. "I don't like it. He missed a lot of important votes this year."
    "You don't approve, sir?"
    "It's your decision, of course. You're the head of the planning committee. I'm just stating my opinion. I don't think Davis earned a keynote."
    Haley was sitting in a large conference room packed with people. They occupied every available seat and were lined up against the walls, two deep in some places. Body heat made the room warm despite good ventilation. A mish-mash of colognes, perfumes, and certain odors infused the air. Nobody looked happy.
    This was the final planning meeting before the convention. Political careers would be made and ruined here. Everybody wanted to see.
    "It's a good point," Sandra said after a pause. "Maybe we'll keep the schedule the way it is."
    She was a tall woman with a mane of raven hair. She wore a sunshine yellow suit, her signature look.
    Haley glanced at Ethel. She and her bodyguard, Boreas, were lurking in the darkest corner of the conference room. They were still dressed like Secret Service agents and were doing a fair job of blending in. Both stood at attention like real agents. Sunglasses covered Ethel's strange eyes. With her lean build, she could be mistaken for a short, old man from a distance.
    "Next topic," Sandra said. "The safety people aren't happy about all the bunting in the arena. They think it's a fire hazard."
    "You really need me to make a decision about bunting?" Haley said.
    "It's part of the presentation, sir. The national audience will see it."
    He sighed. "Get rid of it. The flags are more than enough. And I've had enough. We've been at this for two hours. I'm going outside for some fresh air. Carry on without me, please."
    He stood up. The Secret Service scrambled to escort him.
    Guarded on all sides, Haley left the conference room and entered a hotel hallway. The carpet had a white and brown paisley pattern, and the walls were tan.
    He was in the American State Hotel which had become the field headquarters of the Democratic Party. All the important meetings were here. The United Center was just for the television audience.
    Haley started walking with no particular direction in mind. Just moving felt good. Hopefully, the planning meeting would be done by the time he got back.
    He glanced over his shoulder. Ethel and Boreas were trailing several paces behind the real Secret Service agents. Director George Seferis was an equal distance behind them. He was glaring at Ethel with open hostility. Doesn't he have better things to do? Haley thought. Why isn't he managing his agency?
    Haley eventually found a third-floor balcony with a view of downtown Chicago. The air outside was refreshingly cool. He wanted to take off his jacket and let the sweat underneath evaporate, but there were certain things a president never did in public.
    The Secret Service formed a perimeter. They were such a constant presence in his life he sometimes forgot they were there. One agent stood out though. Her name was Zimmer, and as the only woman on the protection detail, she was a novelty. She had short, red hair, cut in a masculine style. He wondered what hoops she had jumped through to get this job.
    Ethel boldly walked up to Haley. The real agents gave her strange looks, but he waved them off.
    She stood on the edge of the balcony and looked out. "Chicago is my favorite city," she murmured. "I spent most of my life here. So many memories." She pointed to her left. "See the river over there?"
    He looked at a strip of brown water in the distance. It flowed between the tall buildings like a regular street.
    "Yes," he said.
    "I had to swim it in the dead of winter," she said. "The floating ice cut my skin. And