Free Relentless by Patricia Haley and Gracie Hill

entered the room. The mayor approached him extending additional gratitude for Maxwell’s participation and an invitation to sit in on follow-up sessions. He gladly accepted, pleased that the other meetings wouldn’t cost him any money. The investment he’d made with Garrett was already paying dividends.
    â€œExcuse me, Mr. Montgomery,” Maxwell heard someone say. He looked up to find a slightly familiar face but the name didn’t readily come forward. “I’m Pastor Renaldo Harris.”
    â€œThat’s right, you’re at Faith Temple.” Maxwell recalled the young face. It was the local minister from one of the mega churches on his watch list. Harris hadn’t officially made the top priority list like the bishop, but Maxwell was sure his time would come. He was a prime candidate pastoring a mega church with lots of money coming in. “I’ve seen several of your commercials,” Maxwell said.
    â€œGood to hear. We try to reach the people through every available media,” Harris said with a certain confidence that made Maxwell take notice.
    If it had been anyone else, except someone in that meeting room, Maxwell would have interpreted the tone as one of sincerity. But, not with that pack of wolves. Oh no, he wasn’t that naive. Harris had a racket and when Faith Temple moved up on the hit list, Maxwell would find out what it was.
    â€œI won’t take up any more of your time, Mr. Montgomery. I just wanted to officially introduce myself and to let you know that your ideas were on point regarding the youth programs. I believe there’s quite a bit we can do together to bring these programs to fruition much quicker than we discussed here today.” The pastor reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a business card. “When you get a chance, please give me a call. I’d love to talk more.” He handed Maxwell the card and followed with a firm handshake. “Feel free to give me a call or, better yet, stop by one of our services. We have a service Saturday evening at six and two on Sunday, eight in the morning for the early risers and a second one at eleven. I hope to see you soon.”
    Maxwell didn’t know quite how to take Harris. Because Faith Temple wasn’t in his crosshairs, there wasn’t much immediate ammunition he had available. A few quick background checks in the past hadn’t revealed anything meaningful and had annoyed Maxwell. As curious as he was about Harris and what he might be up to, he couldn’t get sidetracked. Philadelphia public enemy number one was Bishop Ellis Jones. That was the prize and no distractions could veer Maxwell off course. It had taken decades to sit at the seat of judgment and be within arm’s length of the bishop. Maxwell wasn’t about to lose ground now. Harris would have to wait in line like the rest of the lowly so-called holy men scampering from the room. He continued gathering his belongings and didn’t extend any other courtesies. Hypocrisy wasn’t his style. There may have been one or two men in the room who he respected, maybe, but as far as he was concerned it wasn’t likely. He briefly contemplated the odds of having integrity in a room lined with preachers and politicians. For Maxwell, each group was corrupt and in need of neutralization. He decided to give the politicians a free pass. They could keep lying, stealing, cheating, and defrauding the people. Maybe one day, when all the ministers had been banned to the outer edges of the earth, and he had another lifetime to live, then perhaps he would start on them. Until then, he’d tackle one priority at a time. He’d learned from the mistakes of others over the years to only handle one venomous snake at a time. If he got too cocky and tried handling several simultaneously, he was likely to get bitten.
    Losing wasn’t an option in a battle where he’d dedicated his entire adulthood to winning.