Free Born with Secrets: A Political Thriller by Bowen Greenwood Page A

just be writing about how I’m going to lose. No one
wants to read that.”
    With his hand still on his
friend’s shoulder, Vincent said a quick prayer for safety and guidance. Then
the two of them went out to find a suitable hotel.
     
     

CHAPTER 8
    Luther and Doyle stood
in the basement storage room, staring down at Moira. They’d taken her hood off
when they let her go to the bathroom and now her eyes nervously went back and
forth between them. She had tried asking what they wanted — at least, they
assumed that had been what she asked; it was hard to tell through the gag, but
their refusal to answer any of her questions eventually wore her down and now
she didn’t ask any more.
    “Here’s the deal,” Luther said. “As the race stands
right now, you win. You’re ahead in the polls and pretty boy Vincent has less
money to spend on changing that than you have to spend on keeping it that way.
If nothing else happens, you’re in the Senate in a little less than a year.”
    Doyle nodded. “Thanks to you, brother.”
    Luther nodded in answer and then went on, “The wild
card is the President. He could endorse Vincent in the primary. He could
announce that he won’t sign the Genetic Probable Cause Bill. The effects are
pretty much the same. Either way, Vincent will get a big boost in the polls and
in his fundraising. If that happens, the race becomes a complete wild card.
Anything can happen.”
    Doyle just nodded.
    “So LeBlanc here wipes out all that risk. Now we’ve
got living proof of exactly how big a dirt bag the President really is. When
the public learns about her, his popularity is going to dive like Jacques
Cousteau. Then, he can endorse Vincent all day and I won’t care. That’ll make
us more popular and him less.”
    Luther continued, “I already sent the email to his
guy. Right now, the entire administration is probably changing their
underwear.”
    His brother asked, “So that’s it then? We just sit
back and wait for me to be elected?”
    Luther shook his head and said, “Probably not.
They’re going to respond somehow. They have to.”
    “Like what?”
    Luther shrugged and replied, “No telling. The most
obvious choice is a Secret Service investigation to find the blackmailers.”
    Doyle said, “They’ll come right to us. I mean, who
else is going to want him to sign the Genetic Probable Cause Bill? If they
investigate, aren’t we ruined before we start?”
    Luther’s lips stretched into an aggressive grin. He
wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulder and guided him out of the locked
storage room so there was no risk of Moira overhearing.
    “That’s the fun part,” he said. “We’re not the only
people who care about that bill. The NSA wants it. It’ll strengthen their
surveillance efforts in unbelievable ways. The CIA wants it. They think they
can use the genetic behavior prediction technology to figure out who’s a
potential terrorist. The entire intelligence community is salivating over that
bill.”
    The two stood in a bare concrete corridor with an
unshielded bulb providing the only illumination. Dusty boxes were stacked along
one wall.
    Luther added, “So I hired a specialist to fake the
IP address and other tracing information on my email. To the White House, this
should look like it’s coming from a conspiracy inside the government. Unless
something goes wrong, the Secret Service will start by investigating the CIA.”
    Doyle gave his brother a wide-eyed look.
    “That can’t possibly go over well with your pals in
the intelligence community,” he said.
    “They can be as mad as they want,” Luther replied.
“Once we have this system in place, they’ll need us. They’ll have to do
business with us, even if we do tick them off.
    “Doyle, once we get you in the Senate and get that
bill passed, no one’s going to have a choice. We’ll be indispensable.”
    ***
     
    After dropping
Matt off at the hotel, Congressman Vincent hurried to the party national