Dead Man Running (24 page)

"We will have a very long and fruitful relationship, Miss
Hidar
."

"I expect so, Mr. Wiley
,
and call me
Mira
."

He let her hand go and motioned for Mookie to leave the room.
  "By all means, call me Ben.  You are one of
my '
inner circle
'
and should have the privilege of addressing me by my first name." 

With one final smile he
was gone
.

After he left she went to her front door and locked it.  She knew the man was no threat to her but she locked it nonetheless.  Back in the kitchen she poured a cool glass of water and drank it down.  She stared at the empty glass and pulled a bottle of rum from her near empty cabinet.  She poured herself two fingers and gulped it down, some spilling onto her Jets sweatshirt. 

She felt unease and soon left the apartment, searching for the latte that would make the feeling go away.  Multiple shots of espresso and syrup later, she felt the same way.  What she and her grandfather unleashed was dangerous and they would have to be very careful in terms of how they controlled him.

Wiley, no longer dependent on others to drive him about,
sat
behind the wheel of his silver Mercedes SL.  The newly restored Mookie
was
seated in the passenger chair.  He
wa
s not a happy…ummm…creature.

"I say we kill that bitch and her grandpappy.  See what happens.  Whip, whop, wham, man."

Wiley laughed.  "And if we stop running like a couple of tinker toys with the keys pulled out the back?  What do we do then, Mookie?"

His fellow undead stayed silent as they approached Wiley campaign headquarters, the site of their meeting.  Wiley liked the fact that Mookie still retained the follower behavior he exhibited when he was just a dumb zombie.  Wiley hoped that the new zombies that were created would similarly look to him as their leader.  He made a mental note to pursue this with the
Hidar
's.

"I think we need to test it, then," Mookie said after a while.  "We need to – what do they call it? – independently verify it."  Wiley was startled at his companion's vocabulary.  He seemed to have gained a few brain cells in his new state.

"And how do we do that?"

"The
Hidar
's aren't the only ones who do magic.  There's others we can ask about this
shit
."

Wiley slapped the steering wheel.  A laughed erupted from his mouth in a bark-like fashion.  "Why ask them?  We'll merely get the girl to make one of them
dead
like us.  That way, we'll know what he or she knows.  We'll independently verify as you say."

"Why don't we do that to Elias
and
th
at
girl
Jan
?"

Wiley did not answer.  After a minute he pulled the car into an alleyway and shut it down.

With a display of speed and power that shocked even his undead companion, Wiley placed both hands around Mookie's neck and squeezed.

"'
T
h
at
girl' is to be my bride.  You will always show her respect.  Disrespecting her is the same as disrespecting me and that I will not abide.  Understood?"

Mookie could not answer and it was a struggle to nod his head but his slight movement signaled his understanding. 

He relaxed his hands off Mookie's throat.  Wiley smiled and Mookie forced a smiled in return.  "You have to understand that I am very fond of Miss Sugerfoot.  She is the key to my plan to eventually take over this planet."  He saw the questioning in his companion's eyes. 
"I will hold that plan close, disclosing it to no one."

"I will be loyal to you, Ben.  I will tell no one."

Ben smiled, patted the man's face.  "I know you are, Mookie, but in this world of magic I cannot be sure what the
Hidar
's are capable of.  Perhaps they know all the words we speak?"  He shook his head.  "No, I will tell in time but now is not th
at
time." 

He fired up the engine and soon they were back in traffic, pointed toward the headquarters building.

"What about Elias?  Shouldn't we make him a zombie?"

"We need him and other humans.  They have unique motivations that make them more effective partners for us than if they are made into zombies."

Mookie nodded.  "But after you control the planet?"

"
Perhaps
Elias will be food – two legged cattle – like any other human being."

Wiley pulled into his parking spot in front of the building.

"You're considering transforming him?"

"I am.  I have a soft spot for the boy."  Wiley smiled.  "Plus, I owe all that I am to him."  The creatures laughed and exited the vehicle.

At campaign headquarters,
Wiley sat at the head of the cheap
folding
table
located
in the large conference room.   There was noise outside the room as an army of
contractor
s disassembled the computers and removed the furniture.  By the end of the day the storefront would be empty, available to
be
rent
ed
by its owners.

Facing Wiley were Jan, Elias,
Mira
and
the
new
and apparently improved
Mookie.  Elias and Jan could n
ot help stealing glances at Mookie
, then to each other.
  They were shocked at his appearance and his verbal dexterity.  Elias had known the man all his life and he swore that this version of Mookie was smarter and more correct with his English.

Wiley looked at Jan then Elias.  He seemed to read their minds.  "By now you realize that Mookie has been transformed to a more fully capable member of the team."

"Whip, whop, wham baby," Mookie said.  He
flashed
a big toothed grin to Elias and Jan.

"
Mira
and I had a conversation earlier and she has agreed to formally be my chief of staff."  He looked at Elias.  "
You'll assume full control of my congressional staff and operations.  I'll also need your assistance with the HUD transition. 
I
'll
need to know personnel, issues, budget, etcetera.  I need to be prepped for the confirmation hearings.  As such, I need the background on the Senators who compose the committee.  I need to know what they'll ask before they ask it."

Elias nodded, still shocked at this thing's mental acumen.  The old Wiley was a political savant but needed a lot of help with organization.  This one need
ed
no such help.  "I'll get right on it, boss," he said.  "If you don't mind I'll also begin digging into the White House –
verify
their real agenda is in alignment with what Mrs. Obama stated."

"Excellent, Elias."  Wiley glanced at Mookie and the two zombies seemed to share an understanding.

"Of course, HUD is just a first step.  I have already moved toward the second step. 
Mira
?"

"Yes.  We have a zombie imbedded in the First Lady's protection."

"How?" asked Jan.

"
Ben suggested that I take Mookie to the roof, where he
thought
an agent would be alone, protecting the Marine Two helicopter.  We managed to lure him out of sight of the copter's pilot,
Mookie
killed him with minimal damage to the body and I made him into an undead."

"You don't plan to harm Mrs. Obama?"

Wiley waved away Jan's question.  "No, I would never do such a thing."  But he would – oh how he anticipated eating those well toned arms.  "The plan is not to harm the First Lady but to get our imbed assigned to the Vice President's detail."

"That should be easy as that is considered a demotion," Elias added.

"Yes, once he's on that detail he will assist me in taking command of the VP's protection.  It will put the VP at our mercy."

"Will you make him a zombie?" Jan asked.

"I thought he already was one," joked Mookie and the others laughed.

"We need him out of the way," said Wiley.  "
W
ith him gone, Obama will have no choice but to name me his running mate for 2012."

"How do you plan to do that?  Won't Obama be reluctant to name a black running mate?"
Elias asked.

"We'll give him no choice," said Wiley.  "In this era calling for budget cuts and government efficiency, we will make HUD a model of what
Washington
can do when it puts its mind to something."

"How do you plan to do that?" Jan asked.  "HUD has always been a money pit, full of pork for Congress and the administration."

Wiley looked at Mookie and the two zombies shared a smile.   "
We will make cuts, darling.  I'm calling it the
'
Wiley Way
'.  And
Washington
has never seen the kind of cuts we have in mind."  The two zombies laughed, joined politely by
Mira
and Jan. 

Finally Elias chuckled but he felt queasy inside, a bit afraid of what
the
'
Wiley
W
ay
' held for the world.

THIRTEEN

Mira
Hidar
had had a busy week.  She sat in the back of Wiley's limo as she waited for the man himself to grace her with his presence. 
She was
instructed
to don businesslike clothes
and to bring a generous supply of the blue elixir.  But she
was told nothing of their destination.

Using Mookie's contacts in the underworld,
Wiley
had tapped mostly 'disposable' people – pimps, hookers, runaways – as the first soldiers in Wiley's army.  She had converted dozens to zombie form,
and then
restored them to lifelike function.  Her grandfather had agreed with Wiley's request that all these zombies perceive
Wiley
as their alpha.  Some of these individuals he has used as his ancillary staff – bodyguards, maid, butler, even a cook when he hosts the living that he doesn't plan to kill. 

She and her grandfather still did not
fully
understand why Wiley seemed so much
more capable
than the others – smarter, shrewder, even physically stronger and quicker.  But
Hamid
was not concerned – Wiley couldn't harm them and he couldn't harm
the West Bank
,
Hamid
having placed a protecting spell over the
land of their ancestors
, just in case.  He continued to state that it didn't matter what Wiley did
as long as he helped their people
but
Mira
was no
t
so sure. 

There was no longer just blood on her hands, it was pooling around her ankles and
ris
ing higher.  She was concerned but she let those feelings fade as the door to the limo opened and Wiley and Mookie climbed inside.

The driver –
yet another
zombie – pulled away from the curb.

"Where are we heading?"
Mira
asked.

"My friends want to congratulate me on my recent victory.  I figure what better time to begin to consolidate my power base."

"The top money men and political people will be there," added Mookie.

"All for the converting," said Wiley.

Mira
smiled.  "One stop shop," she said.

"Saves me some gas," Wiley responded.  The three laughed as the vehicle zoomed toward
Manhattan
.

The meeting at the Plaza was an opportunity to fete a man on the rise.  The rumors of Wiley's White House appointment were rampant, despite the rumor's object's coy denials.  This was the time, before the man went to DC to resume his more mundane duties in the House, to remind him of his friends in
New York City
, his lifetime ties to the area and his obligation to take care of them all. 

Being the Plaza, the
ball
room they occupied had all the subtly of a Roman amphitheatre.  The walls were Tammany Hall gilded,
and
cut glass chandeliers lit the room, their light bouncing off marble floors imported
in four meter square sections
from a remote quarry off the
Tuscany
coast.  The fact that the marble
wa
s now quarried by
illegal
African
immigrant
s making
subsistence
wages instead of the more picturesque slew of sweaty Italian artisans made no perceptible difference to the celebrants.