Free Keys to the Kingdom by Derek Fee

from Jake Linkletter some months ago indicating that it would be in my interest that I should meet a Mr Terman should he request such a meeting.  Since Jake is no longer with us, I assumed the letter was null and void.’
    ‘You could say that in me Jake Linkletter is speaking to you from the grave,’ Terman said.
    Bradley shifted uneasily in his seat. ‘I have a great deal of respect for Mr Linkletter. He gave me significant financial support during my campaigns. May I see your authority to speak on Jake’s behalf?’
    Terman let his right hand fall to the side of his chair and lifted a small document case before placing it on the table.
    The waiter returned and placed a glass of Bourbon and branch water in front of each man. ‘Would you gentlemen care to order now?’ he asked.
    ‘Later,’ Congressman Bradley said without looking at the waiter. ‘You were saying,’ he added when the waiter had departed.
    Terman flicked open the document case and opened the flap displaying a series of papers inside. ‘Mr Linkletter had a favour to ask of you,’ he said. ‘But unfortunately he didn’t have time to follow through. He was afraid that his death might remove any obligation you might have felt towards him. He entrusted certain documents to me in order to ensure that you would positively respond to what he wanted from you.’
    Bradley looked at the man across the table from him. He had no doubt that he was some sort of thug. But he had been mentioned in Jake’s letter so there must have been a modicum of truth in what he was saying. ‘Every donation to my campaign has been properly registered so I’m at a loss to understand how Jake intended to ensure that I would comply with the request of a dead man,’ Bradley picked up his glass and sipped.
    Terman smiled exposing a pair of gold teeth. He pushed the document case towards Bradley before picking up his drink and draining it in one gulp.
    Bradley looked at the small leather case before him but did not touch it. He had no fear of cancelled checks or whatever other papers Jake had preserved.
    ‘Check it out,’ Terman said. ‘But do so discretely,’ he added quickly. ‘The guys whose hands you were shaking on your way over here may be in a hurry to the washroom to wash their hands if they get sight of the photographs of you screwing a thirteen year old girl.’
    Bradley looked around quickly. Then the corner of his mouth twitched.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Terman said. ‘Don’t bother to deny it. Mr Linkletter kept a file on you. Lots of lovely pictures and one video.’
    Bradley was now sweating profusely. He closed the document case and pulled it towards him.
    ‘They’re copies,’ Terman said. ‘I’ve got the originals.’
    ‘If I do the favour, what happens?’ Bradley asked.
    ‘You get the originals back. That’s Mr Linkletter’s promise.’ But not mine, Terman thought.
    ‘What’s the favour,’ Bradley asked.
    ‘The Saudis owe the American people a lot of money. We’re running a major deficit so some ambitious Congressman could make a name for himself if he started insisting that the Saudis pay us back what they owe,’ Terman said. ‘Mr Linkletter wanted you to be that Congressman. You’re going to be an all American hero.’
    Bradley mopped his face. ‘There are only two countries that are off limits to complaints from Congress, Israel and Saudi Arabia. I’ll be a pariah if I go after Saudi.’
    The waiter made a move towards their table but Terman stopped him with a look that said ‘piss off’. ‘So that’s worse than losing your job and spending two to twenty years in jail. I don’t think that you’d like it there. And don’t forget a lot of Americans would consider you to be a patriot.’
    Bradley drained his Bourbon. ‘It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.’
    Terman smiled. ‘Mr Linkletter would be very grateful to you.’
    ‘When do I have to launch this project?’ Bradley asked.
    ‘To-morrow, and we expect you to call