The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology (43 page)

“Additionally, they will be subject to a fine of up to fifty
percent of their assets ... not their net worth; they will keep their
liabilities ... and they will not be eligible to declare bankruptcy.

“For those who do not voluntarily come forward and/or try to
hide assets, in violation of Directives 213 through 217, we will find
you, and the fine will then be up to one hundred percent of your
assets; again, you will still be subject to your liabilities and
ineligible for bankruptcy. And there could be serious prison time,
as well.

“Now, if someone comes forward who is NOT on our list, and
disgorges their corrupt proceeds, there will be no fine; we will not
be confiscating any of their other assets. Word to the wise, okay?

“I will also ask all investigative journalists right now to
continue their efforts at unearthing corruption, current or
historical, and we will look seriously at their discoveries and
continue to add to our list.

“All the details will be posted by ten o'clock tonight, in
Directives 421 to 427.

“My final announcement is actually more just a quick reminder.
The national sales tax goes into effect in about eight weeks, on
April 1st, and any business that has not prepared to collect and
transmit that should go to our web site, ___________.gov, and
download the instructions and the software we've provided there.
It's free and works with all hardware and software platforms.

“And for consumers, if I were in your shoes, I would seriously
think about stocking up on whatever staples you can between now and
the end of March. Another word to the wise.

“That's it for tonight, so I'll wish you all a good evening and
a very enjoyable weekend … well, other than those of you who
might be on our list and may have a few well-deserved nightmares.
Good night.”

Once he was sure the camera was off, Donne smiled and said to
himself, “Oppressing the oppressors; on our way.”

-85R-

Five Months Earlier

Sunday, August 28, 2011

11:03 a.m.

Bonita Beach, Florida

”Hey, Sharon, got your ears on?”

“I do, kid. What's up?”

“Grab your scope and take a look at that couple in the water
down there to the south of us, maybe 80 meters – sorry; a
little less than 90 yards, just out from the fifth gazebo.”

“Hey, meters are fine with me, Jill. But which couple?”

“The guy has a big straw hat on, and she's got gray hair,
cataract sunglasses, no hat.”

“Got 'em. Think they're a threat?”

“No, no threat. I'm just wondering if you can tell if they're
doing what it looks like they're doing from down here.”

“Okay. Let me just swing the – oh, geez, gotta move the
tripod for that angle; the doorframe's in the way. Okay. Swing,
focus … ah, got 'em. Oh, geez; they've gotta be pushing 80,
and they're playing heavy duty kissyface out there.”

“That's them. Are they --”

“Yup, I think they are. Lemme – oh, geez, I think he's
got his suit on his arm, right under the water. It's around her back
and – oh, geez, look at her face. She's – wait a minute.
Yup, she's done. Okay, there he goes.”

“Ewww, ick.”

“Hey, kid, respect your elders.”

“Ewww. Sorry, EAM.”

“Hey, they're not that much older than I am, kiddo. Well,
maybe ten yea- – wait a minute. Oh, geez.” Sharon
guffawed.

“What, what?”

“His suit … it … it … sorry, kiddo. His
suit slipped off his arm and he's thrashing around looking for it.
But he's going the wrong way; it's behind him, and the waves are
taking it further away. Oh, geez.” She exploded into gales of
laughter. “Poor guy. Now what?”

Carie spoke for the first time. “Jill, why don't you go down
there and get it? Sharon could spot for you.”

“Ewww, not me.”

“No, I can't; it's gone. I can't see it anymore. The waves
are too -- oh, wait; there it – nope, that wasn't it. It's
gone. Poor guy.” Her laughter kept her from saying anything
more.

“Now, now, EAM; respect your elders.”

“Oh, geez. He – wait. What's – oh. She's come on
shore and – oh, she's getting one of their towels and –
oh, okay. Boy, that's gonna be one heavy towel, all wet like that.”

“What's going on?”

“He's got the towel around him now, Carie, and he's –
yup, out of the water. Geez, that thing is dripping a lot of –
oh, she's wringing it out.”

“And here come some walkers. What are they making of all that?”

“Wait a minute, kid; I've got to – oh, they look –
I guess they haven't noti- – wait; she's saying something to
him, he just looked over, and they're both snickering. Okay; they've
gone by, coming your way.”

“Don't say it, JB; bite your tongue.”

“Okay, okay, CB. Bitten.”

“She's done wringing and they're heading your way.”

“I hope he's wrapped it well, EAM. Hate to see that fall off.
Some things people just shouldn't see.”

“Hey, kid, someday you'll be that old.”

“Not in this line of work.”

“Sssst,” hissed Carie.

“What? Suddenly you're superstitious?”

“No; here they come. Don't be obvious.”

“But --”

“No, no, no; bite your tongue.”

“Geez, CB, it's already bleeding.”

“Look at me, JB, look at me. And look serious.”

“Okay, okay. Okay?”

“Okay. They're on the boardwalk.”

“Coming your way, Sharon. Now you can bite your tongue.”

“Not a problem for me, kid.”

A few minutes later, Sharon said, “Oh, geez; looks like they're
heading for my building. Hang on.”

Another few minutes passed, and then Sharon said, “Hey, kids,
it seems they're in the unit right under mine. Lemme – yup,
the water trail leads from the elevator right to their door.”

“That explains those noises we heard that night we were up
there with you.”

“Ewwww.”

-86-

Monday, February 6, 2012

8:30 a.m.

The Oval Office

Washington, DC

Emily escorted John Kelly, his Treasury Secretary, and Eugene Brynn,
the Director of the Mint, into the office, where Donne waved them to
the couches and sat across from them.

“John, Gene, thanks for coming over. How are we doing on
Project Newpaper?”

“We're on track to meet your deadline. Production is well
ahead of schedule, but with the confidentiality issues, we've had to
take some extraordinary precautions that have slowed distribution a
bit, especially overseas.”

“Okay, Gene; thanks.

“What's the challenge with the distribution, John?”

“We've been having some difficulty claiming that all those huge
crates are actually diplomatic pouches in some countries.”

“Isn't Amy over at State greasing the skids well enough?”

“Oh, she's doing fine, Gordy. But there's still some pushback
from some of the ambassadors who were appointed by the previous
Secretary. I'm even afraid some of them will leak the plan.”

“Get me a list of them, John, and I'll make sure they know that
they'll be in deep shit if any of them do anything that even remotely
threatens the secrecy of the project.”

“I've got that right here, Gordy.” Kelly pulled a thin
plastic binder from his briefcase and set it on the table.

“Great, John; I can always count on you to be ahead of the
game. By the way, forget the binders from now on, okay? A staple is
fine for my purposes. I don't need a lot of presentation value.”

“Will do, Gordy. And I'll spread the word through the whole
Department.”

“Good, good. Emily, are you there?”

Emily's voice came over the intercom. “Right here, boss.”

“Put an email in the queue to get rid of the binders and other
presentation stuff, okay? For wide distribution. No reorders,
okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, doll.

“Oh, funny, boss.”

“Better than 'mom,' huh?”

“Okay, okay. Over and out.”

Donne chuckled and said, “Thanks, Emily.

“Is the Air Force help with distribution working out, John?”

“They're doing fine, Gordy. And the CIA has agents riding herd
on each shipment, even though nobody knows the contents.”

“Any other concerns about leaks, John?”

“Always. Something this big is bound to leak somewhere.”

“Any concerns in your shop, Gene?”

“Well, obviously, Mr. Donne --”

“C'mon, Gene. I know you're a holdover, but you and I have
been working on this project long enough that you can call me Gordy.”

“I'll try to remember that, Mr. – I mean Gordy.

“Anyhow, with three shifts at all locations running at full
tilt, lots of the workers have an idea of what's going on, but with
the oversight Secretary Kelly has provided, I think they're all
absolutely clear that their loose lips would cause them big problems
personally, so so far, I think we're okay.”

“Good, good. I'll rely on both of you to keep it that way.”

John and Gene both nodded.

“And if you run into any more problems with distribution, John,
let me know and I'll do what I can to smooth them out, okay?”

“Will do, Gordy.”

“And, Gene, be sure to let me know immediately if and when you
run into any problems, any at all, okay?”

“Yes, sir – Gordy.”

“Good, good. Thanks for coming. Oh, if either of you are into
grassy veggie foods, just tell Emily on your way out that I've
donated whatever she's prepped for me to you.”

“I heard that, boss.”

“I know you did, mom.

“Thanks, guys.”

The three of them rose, shook hands and left Donne alone with his
overflowing inbox, which he emptied within two hours and took a
well-deserved and long-overdue nap.

-87-

Five Months Earlier

Sunday, August 28, 2011

11:24 a.m.

Bonita Beach, Florida

”Hey, kids, guess what I just saw.”

“No, idea, EAM.”

“There's a swim suit floating right in front of you two.”

“So?”

“I got an idea. Can one of you go get it?”

“Ewwww. Not me. CB?”

“Oh, okay, JB. I'll go. Where is it, Sharon?”

“Right in front of you – no, a little to your left.”

“I don't see it.”

“A little more, right in the surf there.”

“Oh, okay; got it. Got it. Now what?”

“Bring it up here.”

“Ewwww.”

“Quiet, Jill. Carie, be sure to wring it out first, okay?”

“Will – oh, shit; it's got skid marks.”

“Double ewww.”

“Just wring it out and bring it up here … please.”

“Okay. Be right up.”

Ten minutes later, Carie rejoined Jill on the beach, giggling.

“What?”

“Oh, this is gonna be good.”

“If it's got you giggling, it must be good.”

“Just wait.”

Ten minutes later, Sharon said, “All set; listen well, kids.”

At that moment, inside the ninth-floor condo, Joan said, “Ned,
is that somebody knocking?”

“I think so, hon. I'll get it … nobody there. Oh,
what's this? My swim suit? And a note? 'I hope you're proud of
yourselves. At your age, you should be. We saw what you did and
thought you would like this back. Sorry, we didn't have a chance to
wash it properly. By the way, bravo.' It's not signed. Who --”

“Well, come back in and close the door. The breeze is melting
the ice cream.” The door slammed.

“How'd ya like that, kids?” Sharon said, pulling a tiny
mike up over the railing in the atrium.

“Not as good as I expected, Sharon,” Carie replied.

“Ewwwww.”

-88-

Friday, February 10, 2012

8:47 a.m. EST

A network morning talk show

Back from commercial, Lindsey smiled directly into the camera.

“Welcome back. I'm Lindsey Framingham, and I had the chance
last month to do an exclusive interview with Gordon Donne, the man
who, two months ago today, bought this country and has instituted
hundreds of new policies.

“Here's a quick clip.”

The screen cut to a shot of Lindsey and Gordon Donne, clad in his
usual jeans and tropical shirt, facing each other on chairs in the
Oval Office.

“Mr. Donne,” Lindsey began, “to get right down to
brass tacks, why did you buy the country?”

“Well, somebody had to do something, Lindsey, before the entire
country imploded economically and socially. It was crying out for an
adult, maybe any adult, to come in and just take charge, get it off
its fat, complacent, lazy butt, clean up the corruption and get back
to the business of growth and optimism. And I happened to be --”

“We'll be running the whole interview on this show on Friday,
March 16th. Be sure to mark that on your calendar. But now, back to
Rose and her guest, the sister of a woman who now claims that she had
not really understood what the difference between breast augmentation
surgery and breast incrementation surgery actually was when she had
the latter performed.”

This promo and clip ran ten times a day for the next week.

-89-

Six Months Earlier

Sunday, September 4, 2011

6:08 p.m.

Bonita Beach, Florida

Jake lay in a reclining lounge on his balcony, protected by the
overhanging roof from the rain sprizzling down on this windless late
afternoon. Looking out onto the quiet Gulf, he sipped from a glass
of white zin and longed for a little cigar. But it was nine days
since he'd smoked the last of the carton he'd bought the day after
Pam had flown out of his life for a month, and he'd vowed to quit
completely by the end of August. So far, he'd been able to keep that
vow, but on more than one occasion, he'd been seriously tempted to
cheat, and this was one of the strongest temptations he'd had.

He picked up his non-spiral notebook and tablet from the table beside
him and began organizing the notes he'd made since Pam had left,
humming his new theme song as he typed: