Free The Wrong Lawyer by Donald W. Desaulniers Page B

they had perfected technology which allowed them to monitor
conversations in our own homes. Even more sinister, they had developed a system
of retrieving whatever they wanted with just the touch of a few buttons on a
computer.
    That realization
didn’t make me feel one bit safer. Instead it felt as if the inmates had
completely taken over the asylum. Big Brother had arrived with a vengeance and
he was pumped up with nosy steroids.
    The three of us
stood in silence for a few minutes until there was a knock on the door.
    The door was
opened and an older man entered with Matthews. The two agents saluted the
newcomer.
    “You may take your
places outside the room,” the new chap stated to my two escorts. His whole
demeanor exuded authority.
    The agents saluted
again and immediately exited the hotel room.
    “Mr. Kennedy, this
will be your home until Saturday. At that time you will be permitted to fly to
Syracuse where you may retrieve your vehicle and return to Canada.”
    “What about my
reservation at the hotel in Las Vegas?”
    “It has already
been cancelled and the complete cost of your vacation has been credited to your
VISA account. You won’t be out of pocket one red cent.”
    “This is a very
nice room but I don’t see any slot machines. How am I supposed to amuse myself
stuck in here until Saturday?”
    “You have all the
stations you could possibly imagine on the TV. The telephone has been turned
off because it has been deemed important that you not be able to contact anyone
during your stay here. You can use the phone to request anything from room
service or housekeeping, but it will be one of our agents who will answer the
call and relay your instructions. Whatever you choose to order will not cost
you a cent.”
    “Why exactly am I
here? It’s most bizarre. Agent Matthews tried to impress me by demonstrating
that my calls and conversations have been monitored for quite some time. All it
succeeded in doing was to convince me that American intelligence has gone
berserk.”
    “Your precise reason
for being here is not information you need to know now or in the future. Take
my word for it that your presence here is essential in relation to larger
matters. Good night, Mr. Kennedy. Try to enjoy this unexpected glitch in your
travel plans.”
    His supercilious
military attitude really irked me and I tried to concoct some way to irritate
him right back.
    “Wait a minute,” I
barked as I marched over to the room’s small bar fridge and threw the door
open. The thing was filled with various designer liqueurs and foreign beer,
each one sporting an outrageous price tag.
    “I’m not drinking
this overpriced cat-piss. Have Matthews go fetch me a twelve-pack of Old
Milwaukee and some greasy salted peanuts. And I can’t wear this same outfit all
damn week. I want my luggage back.”
    The military guy
glanced over at Matthews who nodded. It surprised me that Matthews was in command
rather than this fellow.
    At least I got the
desired reaction. Both the General, as I decided to call him, and Matthews tensed
up at the derisive tone of my voice but the General answered through gritted
teeth, “I’ll see to your requests, Mr. Kennedy.”
    Both chaps spun
around and left the room.
    I heard the
General command one of the agents guarding my door to go out and get the beer
and peanuts immediately. Then I listened at the door while he phoned someone
and gave the order to have my belongings returned to me pronto.
    My face was still
sore from the tape and I was now exceedingly angry.
    I had been my own
boss during my entire career. Now here I was being deprived of an enjoyable
vacation in Las Vegas by some bullying government agents who had no regard to
my rights to privacy or freedom.
    I resisted the
urge to crack open one of the overpriced drinks from the bar fridge as I turned
on the television.
    The screen must
have been sixty inches wide and I began to console myself with the thought that
for once in my life I was being