JJ 03 - Brink of Chaos by Tim LaHaye

JJ 03 - Brink of Chaos by Tim LaHaye

Author:Tim LaHaye [LaHaye, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


THIRTY-ONE

On the Campaign Trail Somewhere in the Northeast

Special Agent Ben Boling was ordering a sandwich at the outside counter of a roadside deli. “I’d like the pastrami on rye. No chips with that, but I’d like it heated.”

Senator Hewbright was next to him. His entourage of staffers were milling around the campaign bus, out of earshot. “Don’t mean to hurry you, Agent Boling, but we have an incredibly tight schedule. What can you tell me so far?”

“First — I don’t have much on Perry Tedrich’s death — yet. We just don’t know if it was connected to your run for president. The autopsy indicates he was poisoned. That’s all I know.”

“I’d like to reach out to his family …”

“I know you would. But I recommend that for the time being you let me express your heartfelt regrets. There’ll be time for you to talk to his relatives when our investigation gets a clearer picture of why he was killed.”

“And my Allfone being hacked?”

“That’s a different story, though it may be connected. Just can’t tell. What our IT forensics people say is this — it was hacked through a source in China.”

Hewbright was nearly speechless. “What in the world …”

“Do we have any reason to believe that China has any particular interest in your campaign?”

“Certainly. I’ve traveled there several times, spoken out against their abuses of human rights and violations of religious liberties of Christians and other religious minorities. And I’ve argued against President Tulrude’s attempt to expand our national debt that’s owed to China. I’ve publicly argued that she’s enslaving us financially to that nation.”

“Anyone on your staff have any special relationship with Beijing?”

“No, sir, other than my foreign-policy advisors being knowledgeable about China in general.”

Agent Boling threw some cash onto the counter and plucked up his pastrami sandwich, wrapped in paper. “We’ll keep looking at this,” he said. “Meanwhile, be careful who you have around you. I’ve talked to Agent Owens, your Secret Service man. He’ll help you keep your circle tight. Can’t afford too many people getting close to you. Limit yourself to those who are air-tight, as pure as the driven snow.”

Ben Boling smiled at his own comment as he took a bite of his sandwich. How pure could anyone be who was knee deep into the dirtiest blood sport of all — a run for the presidency of the United States? On the other hand, after being around Hank Hewbright for a few days now, Ben had a feeling about him. There was a kind of common decency about the guy. Maybe he was the exception.

“You know, Agent Boling,” Hewbright said strolling toward the campaign bus, “you want me to restrict my circle, but that’s impossible. People want to — have a right to — shake your hand. The voters ought to be able to look you in the eye, find out what makes you tick.”

“Sure,” Boling said, walking beside him and using a paper napkin to wipe the mayo off his chin. “But I’m not talking about that.



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