The Doorman by Roger Weston

Author:Roger Weston [Weston, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Chuck was walking near the Capitol in black jeans, black overcoat, and Adidas running shoes. Approaching the Monocle Restaurant on D Street, less than a block from the Senate office buildings, he scanned the street and twice looked back over his shoulder. If he wasn’t being watched in this area, he would have been surprised, but he didn’t see any obvious surveillance. He did spot a video camera with a crow’s view of the street. That was nothing new. He saw such cameras all over town.

From outside, the restaurant looked like an old-time boarding house. The inside was like an 1800’s parlor in a private club. Chuck said hello to Nick, the maitre de and John, the owner. They were true professionals. He found Lawrence Robertson waiting for him at a table.

Given its proximity to the Capitol, the Monocle was a favorite restaurant for politicians; however, to see Lawrence there was a sight. With his black hair, his gaunt, craggy face and deep-set eyes, he looked like Abraham Lincoln’s twin brother. Using his walking cane for support, Lawrence started to stand.

“Don’t get up,” Chuck said.

He stood anyway and shook Chuck’s hand. “Brandt,” he said, “it’s good to have you around.”

“Thank you.”

They sat down.

Chuck waved his smart phone over and under the table. It had a scanning ap and audio surveillance sensor. He tried to be nonchalant as he made sure nobody was listening.

“We’re fine here,” Lawrence said. “I always get this table. My assistant scans it daily.”

“A little caution never hurts.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Lawrence said. “By the way, I want to say thank you.” He leaned toward Chuck and spoke in a hushed voice. “Our country is going to hell, and some of our leaders are letting it happen. You’re one man who’s actually doing something about it. You’re the one man standing in the gap.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Let me tell you something,” Lawrence continued. “I didn’t join the agency to write reports that nobody bothers to read and plan missions that never happen. I’m not gonna take it anymore. Together we can make a difference. While my bosses drink themselves to death, you and I can make the world a better place.”

Chuck nodded. “It won’t be easy, you know. I could catch a bullet at any time, and they won’t bury me at Arlington, either. I’ll be lucky to get an unmarked grave in South Dakota.”

“Be careful, Chuck. Remember what I said about keeping a low profile and using diplomacy.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Starting when? I just heard the news reports. Someone threw an Albanian through a car window. Not only that, three Albanian assassins were shot over in Maryland.”

“That’s a shame. I wonder what their business was?”

Lawrence raised a long, crooked finger and pointed at Chuck. “Just remember this is Washington DC. We don’t think like commandos here. We’re chess players and smooth talkers. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

“I always prefer civilized talk to torture and interrogation.”

“That’s the attitude.” Lawrence leaned forward again and spoke softly. “Stay alive, Chuck.

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