SUED FOR PEACE (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 11) (4 page)

A man smiled at him. Terry Richards thought he looked familiar and the two woman behind him, one with a camera, were certainly attractive enough. Congressman Richards decided to stop and turn around to speak with these three. Maybe he had seen the Hispanic-looking reporter before? They certainly weren’t here on the Hill very often.

The cute short woman lifted a camera up, first pointed away from him, and he acknowledged the camera. When he did that, she turned it back around towards him. That was an unexpected courtesy, and he felt pleased with the consideration.

Terry turned on his million dollar smile. Well, at least it should be a million dollars, as he had well over fifty-thousand dollars of dental work to make it pretty damned perfect. The male reporter stepped closer to him and looked a little towards the camera, so Terry stepped slightly sideways and joined the reporter looking into the camera.

“Hello! My name is Mark Billingsly, and I have with me Congressman Terry Richards from the great state of New York.” Terry smiled at the audience and wondered if this was going to be a conversation about his solar energy initiative, or the pollution issues and cleanup they were accomplishing around New York City water pollution.

Mark turned just slightly in towards Terry, who looked down a little at the man, “Congressman Richards, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to answer just two questions for us. The first, of course, is a question related to the use of Solar Energy and the advancement of the funds to implement such a system in today's climate.”

“Certainly, Mark,” Terry aimed his mouth a little towards the microphone on the camera, but kept his eyes on Mark except for a couple of glances to the camera, “Right now is the time we all have to focus on the ability to expand our renewable energy usage. With oil such a highly volatile product and the use of oil in manufacturing harmful to the environment, we need renewables such as solar energy to become a viable alternative. As long as we have the sun above us, we will be able to depend on solar power to help us achieve an ongoing energy independence.” Terry waited for the softball follow-up question, and the reporter provided it.
 

“So ... everyone agrees that solar energy is pretty inefficient right now. Yet you believe that we as a country, and specifically New York, should fund the development and manufacturing of solar installations as a way to create energy independence from foreign countries?”

Well, this wasn’t the softball question Terry expected, but he could handle this easily enough. “Certainly, when you only depend on the sun which is up above your own nation, not oil drilled out of the ground thousands and thousands of miles away, we have options. The option to continue to depend on the sun above us. Or the political and military expedients that continue to infect the machinations of countries who are oil rich. They’re constantly trying to involve the US in their problems, as we are so heavily dependent on oil at this time. Right now, I’m fighting for a future of energy independence. We might have to pay for implementations that require an investment by the government. It may take twenty years to recoup the investment, but I believe we need to focus on the long view. A long view that is sorely lacking in Congress and only slightly better in the Senate.”

Damn, he was on a roll! He was going to ask for a copy of this interview.

“Right now, Congressman Richards, of the top solar component manufacturers, five are Chinese, two are Korean, two are here in the US using parts from which country - we don’t know, and one is Canadian. I’m curious, Congressman Richards, if the use of so many manufactured panels from a foreign country concerns you in any way?”

Terry smiled, not sure where the reporter was heading, but who cared? “Certainly not Mark, when the solar panels are accumulating the sun,” Terry pointed up and winked at the camera, “above our own heads, I’m not sure I worry about a foreign country turning off the lights, so to speak, in our part of the world.”

Mark nodded sagely in agreement with everything Terry said. When the Congressman finished, he asked, “So, the fact that the foreign-made components inside the majority of solar energy products could have a kill switch in them, easily controlled by a foreign country, and possibly rendering them useless as an energy provider doesn’t bother you?” Mark took the surprised look on the congressman’s face as an opportunity to nail him. “And in this future,” Mark mimicked the man’s previous gesture by pointing up, “where we only have to depend on the sun above us, we should trust that no kill-switches were put in place by any of the solar component manufacturers. Even when these organizations include those from governments that have not demonstrated any care for our country’s well-being?”

The congressman’s smile seemed a little strained, “Well, I don’t think we need to look behind every bush and find an evil plan to take over America, Mark,” Terry answered, in an effort to defuse the conversation.

“But Congressman Richards,” Mark now set him up for the final comment, “when you take over $232,532 in donations from lobbyists who have themselves been hired by these same Chinese solar component manufacturers, does it not cause a conflict of interest? Many of your donations having been received the very same day you had meetings with those lobbyists, interestingly enough. You do not believe that these companies, these solar-based manufacturing companies, have ulterior motives?”

“Of course not!” Terry exclaimed, smiling for everything he had, “the use of donations to facilitate an independent energy effort should be applauded.” Terry turned towards the camera, “I want to thank you both for such an excellent opportunity to continue the discussion of how solar power will support the energy independence of the American people, good day!” With that, he waved and continued down the street, making his escape.

Mark turned towards the camera, “We appreciate the good Congressman Richards, himself a recipient of almost a quarter of a million dollars from lobbyists’ money, providing his views on the switch to solar energy. Money focused on the continued implementation of solar panels and solar products manufactured in China. That in itself is not a bad thing, but when almost all of the core infrastructure which makes this country work can have concealed kill commands inside them, it puts America at risk. These commands could fry the component circuitry based on an internet attack, instantly destroying all energy acquisition and distribution without the option of physical replacement. Well, it seems a little concerning that no one is considering the ability of a foreign country to wreak havoc with our needed and necessary infrastructure without one bomb being dropped.”

Mark turned away from the camera to look off camera in the direction of where the Congressman continued to walk away, “And let’s not even begin to discuss the significant and unique electrical pieces that require manufacture in China itself.” Mark looked back towards the camera, “Pieces that once destroyed, will keep your city dark for months or significantly longer if we should be at war.”

Two blocks away, Terry Richards pulled out his cell phone and punched in a specific contact's number. This
 
phone number was memorized and was restricted to a single use. Halfway around the world, after seven different forwards to hide the eventual destination, a woman picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“This is T.R., I’ve been asked questions and had my connections and exact funding delivered to me in detail by a reporter. You told me this wasn’t possible!” he fumed.

“Was the group behind it headed by a male reporter?” the woman asked.

“Yes! Mark Billingsly and two females,” he answered while looking for cars before crossing the road.

The woman responded in a calm tone, “You are the third concerned citizen to ask about this situation. You know what they say in America about three strikes?”

Terry only admitted, “Yes.”

“Well, don’t expect to receive another request for an interview,” she replied.

“Fine, that works for me. What about the video?”

“Our teams will work on it. Give us time is all I can respond to that question.”

“Understood, goodbye,” Terry said as he hung up and closed the phone.

In a foreign country, a Colonel hung up the phone and turned in her seat. She was part of the approximately seven and a half percent of the PLA army that had responsibility for long-term foreign investment. She picked up the phone and made another call, “I need the approval to send out a clean-up squad. There is a thorn we need to get rid of.”

QBS Polarus in the Pacific Ocean heading towards China

John Grimes walked into the shared area where he and his guys had their rooms. Darryl gave him a nod from the couch. Scott and Eric were getting set up to arm-wrestle. “Eric, why are you doing this to yourself?” John asked, “We both know Scott is going to eat your lunch.”

Eric grunted as Darryl said, “Go,” and the effort was on. Eric’s biceps were massive, able to easily out dwarf most men’s. But he wasn’t budging Scott, who was steady, holding Eric’s other hand under the arch of their two arms clasped in a titanic struggle of strength.

“You know,” Scott told Eric, smiling. “We can stop now, and you can walk away with your manhood intact.”

“Huh,” Eric grunted, trying to get Scott to lose focus so he could drive his arm down in a sudden burst of effort.
 

He barely moved Scott’s hand a quarter to a half-inch.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,'” Scott grinned, “ready to give me twenty pushups?”
 

Eric ground out, “I’ll give you twenty pushups when you stop being such as weak-ass bitch.”

Darryl warned him, “Don’t let Bethany Anne hear you say that lame-ass name.”

All of the men turned towards the door when they heard Bethany Anne’s voice arrive right before she turned the corner into their room, “I did hear that lame-ass name, and after Eric gives Scott twenty, he can do another twenty-five while I stand on his back.”

Eric’s eyes opened slightly before they darted back to his grip with Scott, who was still paying attention to Bethany Anne over his shoulder. Eric drove his shoulder into the challenge and caught Scott off-guard. Scott barely stopped the sudden drive half-way down to the table, his knuckles mere inches from touching the wood.

“You…” Scott started speaking, through clenched teeth as he tried to offset Eric’s better leverage and damned impressive effort to drive his hand down. “Are … a ... bloated….” Scott’s arm started rising, an inch for every word he said, “Semen … packing … animal … fondling … fuckfaced … cockthistle … cockroach … ass … bandit!” With the final word, Scott slammed Eric’s hand down on the table, making sure he would feel that pain for a while.

Eric pulled his hand back and started massaging his knuckles, “Shit, you pig, that fucking hurt.”

“Not as bad as these heels on your back,” Bethany Anne mentioned. The two men looked around the side of the table.

She had on three-inch heels.

Scott looked over at Eric’s face, his jaw dropping in surprise. Scott grinned as he told Eric, “Damn dude, those are going to hurt.”

Eric looked back up to Bethany Anne’s face, “Isn’t that going to be a bit much?” while pointing at the shoes.

“No, a bit much might be me lifting something while I’m standing on your back to increase the weight.”

Darryl spoke up from the couch, “I’ll volunteer, you can lift me!”
 

Eric flipped off Darryl, his hand carefully blocked from Bethany Anne’s view by the table.

She turned towards Darryl and chuckled, “I said something, not someone.” She walked over to the couch and sat down. “Before you do your push-ups, Eric, I have a request of you guys.” The four men walked over. John sat next to Bethany Anne, Eric beside Darryl, while Scott took the chair. Akio was out at the moment.

“The ladies have come up with a way to potentially help us in the PR department, make money for a charity, and apparently, have a good time. Well, at least the ladies will have a good time.”

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ arriving soon?” John asked, looked sideways at Bethany Anne.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, she opened it again and spoke, “Because I didn’t expect this to occur and I’ve got to say I’m sorry in advance. So, I’m sorry.” She turned to John, “But, you guys are going to be thrown under the bus on this one.”

“You want us to do it, regardless?” John asked, “I’m assuming that since it is for charity, I’m not being shot, so I’m in. What do you want us to do?”
 

The guys all looked towards Bethany Anne, who was obviously having a hard time with this request. Coming from the lady who chewed up and spit out Forsaken for breakfast, their curiosity was in overdrive. Scott glanced towards Darryl and Eric before Darryl minutely shrugged his shoulders.

Bethany Anne put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath, “Ok, I’m just going to say it. The girls want you guys to do a pin-up calendar.” She exhaled noisily and looked around to her team.

John put up his right hand with a finger pointed to Scott, then Darryl, Eric and finally himself. “You want us four to pose for a pin-up calendar?” he asked, a question clearly on his face.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice a little higher than normal. “Oh God, fine!” she blurted out, “They want you to do a beefcake calendar!” She threw her hands up, “No shirts, tiny underwear, baby oil and in like, four countries in twenty-four hours.” She put her hands over her face, “I’ve created a set of monsters.” She mumbled through her hands, “It started with Jean Dukes.”

“Jean?” Darryl asked. Bethany Anne nodded her head.

“What did Jean have to do with this?” John asked.

“What didn’t she have to do with this?” Bethany Anne replied, “she came up with the idea and rallied the other ladies to get behind it. Then Cheryl Lynn got involved, and Patricia was asking questions.” Bethany Anne pulled her hands from her face to look at John, “Did you guys know you have female fan clubs?”

John’s blush told her everything she needed to know. She pointed at him, then the other three, “You guys know you have fan clubs?”