Chapter 45
45
M arco pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped Theresa's photo.
She answered, "Hello, sexy chef."
He chuckled. "Hello, sexy writer."
She laughed, which made his heart happy. "I'm on my way home."
"Sounds good. Can't wait to see you."
"Same here, Baby."
Ending the call, he drove to the cabin, soft music playing from his stereo system and his thoughts on the beautiful woman he now shared his life with. Life sure had a way of throwing curve balls at a person.
As he turned off Lake Road onto Middle Inlet, his phone rang. Tapping the button on his steering wheel, he answered, "Karason."
"It's Mitch. I received a text in response to my text, which is really Theresa's text to the Celtics this morning. They want proof she has more information to release."
"To what end? They hunt her relentlessly to get it then kill her?"
"I don't know. I'm trying to get my head around how we prove she has more information and how to keep her safe."
Marco's jaw tightened. Those fuckers were not going to harm her. They didn't care about physical threats. They all believed they'd die for this cause eventually anyway. At least most of them did. What they cared about was the power. And the money.
He cleared his throat. "In your opinion, what is their power?"
"Power as in following through on the threats they've made?"
Marco shook his head. "No, as in power over people, or businesses. What is the power they covet so much?"
Mitch was silent for a moment and Marco turned onto Nowhere Road. Finally, Mitch responded, "They like telling people what to do and them doing it. Total power over people."
Marco nodded slowly. "And the money is second?"
"It depends on the person. For some, having a ton of money is more valuable than anything else."
"I suppose." He thought about this for some time. "Don't respond yet. I'm almost home and I'll talk with Theresa and see what she has to say about it all."
"Roger that."
He turned down Hidden Oasis Rd and saw the sleepy little cabin's silhouette against the moon's rays. A slight fog hovered over the water in the lake. It looked peaceful and eerie at the same time.
Turning the key in the lock he stepped into the living room and nearly ran into Theresa.
"Whoa, where are you going?"
"I had hoped to open the door for you."
"Ah." He chuckled and kissed her lips. "Sorry to be so fast."
She laughed. "Right."
She handed him a beer with the perfect smile on her face. "Thank you."
She tapped her bottle to his and they sauntered to the sofa hand in hand. What did he like better, morning or coming home? It was getting hard to decide which was better. Maybe no decision was best. He liked them both equally.
He sat and she twisted to sit facing him, her legs tucked under her. He took a breath, "What do you think the Celtic's power is?"
"They like control. I believe it's like a chess game with him, the leader. He tells people to do his bidding, and he enjoys watching them jump through hoops to do it. After a while though, it's less about them seeking his attention or permission and more about the satisfaction of people knowing he can do what he wants and when."
"He being..."
"John Benson."
Marco's brows shot up. "As in Vice President John Benson?"
"Yes. I told you the Celtics had powerful connections."
"Okay. So they have the White House in their control and to what end?"
"Money."
"Just money?"
Theresa shrugged. "Keely said it was a slow progression just like Shooter's abuse. They slowly infiltrated everything they could infiltrate. The money was initially the end goal. They infiltrated Congress and controlled spending bills. They'd steer the spending to companies they owned and operated or businesses they controlled. The money began rolling in. Do you like war? They'll vote to help another country in a war, use their equipment or uniforms or anything associated with it, and make money. If the voters grew weary of the wars and the money being funneled to it, they'd switch to pharmaceuticals. Then switch to pouring money into education. All this brings them money via the companies they control. They get kickbacks and buy-offs from these businesses to help them make money. It's the perfect scam. All are controlled by the very people who tell you they're on your side while stealing your money via heavy taxes and lining their pockets with it. We vote for these pigs."
Marco's jaw tightened. "I know many politicians are criminals. It's why I almost stopped voting years ago. Now I don’t vote until I have researched all candidates and issues. But to see that someone has proof of all of this is mind-boggling."
"Yes, and they threaten and kill people who can expose them."
Marco nodded. "Okay. So, we need to protect you. All you have right now is their minimal compliance because if it goes this high up, the stakes are high. But since it does go that high up, I think we need to completely expose all the wrongdoing."
Theresa's brows furrowed. "How do I stay safe?"
"I have a former SEAL acquaintance who can get us in to see the Speaker of the House."
She sat up straighter. "How do you know you can trust him?"
"I'll vet him first. I believe I can with a bit of tweaking. Mitch's algorithm can be modified to trace his activities over the past few years."
She shook her head. "It's really like Big Brother is watching all the time, isn't it?"
"Sadly, with cell phones, we can be tracked all the time. Watches, eyeglasses, our vehicles. Anything with a computer is an electronic trail."
"Wow." She cocked her head. "Then why did it take them so long to find me?"
He grinned. "This is simply a guess. But if they have algorithms similar to this to track people, they'd know those algorithms can be tracked too. So, an enemy could find everyone and everything they were tracking and why. It could wipe out a political campaign. It could bring down giants."
Theresa jumped up. "Let's do that. Find out if Mitch's algorithm can be modified to track Shooter John Benson. I have his phone number. I have his email address, and I have his home computer IP address. We need to track that. It will lead to John Benson and all the other scumbags associated with their dirty dealings."
She ran to her computer and brought it back to the sofa, he dialed Mitch.