Mackey Chandler

A short raw snippet from “They Said it would be Easy”

“Honey, there is a young fellow who insists on speaking to you. He looks military and is disgustingly earnest. I believe he is genuinely young. He doesn’t look like he’s regressed in life extension. He acts young,” Ben said like it was an indictment. “Do you want to get rid of him, or should I call Security and tell Jon he’s stalking you and we want him gone the safe and gentle way, before I take matters into my own hands?”
Martha came and leaned over Ben’s shoulder.
“Lieutenant I’m not involved in politics now. I don’t want to be involved in politics again. It took months to get the smell off when I abandoned that profession before. Who do you represent, and what sort of trouble are they fomenting?”
“I’m Aaron Janowicz, Ma’am. I did not identify myself as a lieutenant,” he said blushing.
“Well excuse me if you made Captain and I guessed wrong, but Captains don’t usually get thrust out on the sharp and pointy end of things,” Martha said.
Aaron opened his mouth like he was going to reply and then changed his mind and began again.
“Madame President, I’d rather not discuss this on com. Can’t you spare a moment and speak with me face to face in a more secure environment?” he pleaded.
“How do I know you’re not just an assassin, here to finish me off?” Martha asked.
“Would an assassin simply call and ask for an appointment?” Aaron asked with an unbelieving look.
“It sounds very efficient,” Ben said, eyes lighting up. “That’s going in my next book. I have this character I’ve been wanting to kill off, he’s such a creep, but I hadn’t figured out how to do it. The look on his face when he realizes he delivered himself up on a platter for the slaughter will be priceless,” Ben had a manic snarl anticipating it already.
“Uh, that’s just in fiction,” he added when he saw Aaron’s horrified reaction. “This time.”
“Pay no mind,” Martha said. “You get used to the evil cackling as he types. Look, we’re not going to invite you to our home. We’re going to dinner in a bit at a place called the Quiet Retreat. If I leave word with the maître d’ that you are our guest at the club, will you sit and have a civilized interview in a public place, and leave when I tell you I’ve heard enough and not make a fuss?”
“We won’t have eavesdroppers there?” Aaron asked.
“Not political ones. We may have social media stringers take our pix, but they have never posted audio. They simply aren’t interested in ancient politics,” Wiggen assured him, “and it’s the best deal you are going to get.” When he hesitated Martha added. “And I promise I won’t let my husband test his plot device on you.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll be there,” he agreed reluctantly.

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