He clasped it in his hand as he made his way to the second floor.
At the top of the steps, he pressed a switch, and the entire first floor lit up like a football field at a night game. The light made him feel a bit better. But only for a moment. Even if he pressed the little red button on the panic gizmo, he could be dead before the police arrived. He must have been out of his mind to hire that psycho.
He entered his home study. He looked at his computer and wondered if there was some wiseass out there who could find what he’d gone to such great lengths to hide. He cursed his father then, in all four languages in which he was fluent. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be there sweating like a Trojan. A fearful Trojan.
Like the old man cared. Crippled with arthritis, Parkinson’s, and a weak heart, he was going to die soon and leave his son holding the bag. “And there go all my political aspirations,” he mumbled as he turned on the computer. “There goes the goddamn White House!”
Senator Hudson Preston sat down in his ergonomic chair and leaned back to wait for the computer to boot up. He felt proud of himself that he’d personally contacted Peter Kelly and harnessed the man’s expertise in setting up foolproof firewalls that, according to Kelly, even the Pentagon couldn’t penetrate. And in return for that expertise, the senator had ordered thousands of computers to be sent to the local school system, all compliments of Preston Pharmaceuticals.
Peter Aaron Kelly didn’t like him, and Preston knew it. “Tough shit, Mr. Kelly,” the senator said aloud.
He started to type, recording everything that had happened in the past three days. When he finished, he raced out of the room to his bedroom, where he’d tossed his keys on the dresser. He grabbed them and removed the memory stick that looked like a child’s whistle painted in psychedelic colors. To anyone who asked about the strange doodad hanging from his key ring, he said it was a gift from one of his grandchildren. He removed the memory stick, plugged it into the computer, and copied the file he’d just created. When he was finished, he returned the two-inch cylinder to his key ring and laid it on the top of his dresser.
The senator deleted all the files and turned off the computer. He was ready to go to bed. He crawled between the covers, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to sleep. But he had to try because he needed to forget all the carnage he’d seen on the news. If he tried, he could almost live with that. What he couldn’t live with was the picture he’d seen of Peter Aaron Kelly on the evening news, along with Lily Madison.
The senator started to shake under the covers.
PAK Industries versus Preston Pharmaceuticals.
One winner. One loser.
Unless…
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