in the showing. Everybody else will either be one of ours or belong to
the Chinese. We'll let their people in, because we will have the
advantage. The employees, from the booth to the concession stand to
the guy who tears your ticket in half, will be our people. For every
one they get inside, we'll have one in a nearby seat covering them.
Everybody our men don't know will be a potential target. If click
comes to bang, they will know who to shoot. And if they miss? Well,
nobody will notice if there are a few less screenwriters anyhow.
Everybody in L.A. is working on a script.'
'How can you do this? You know the guy who owns the place?'
'I am the guy who owns the place. Over the years, I've done pretty
well for my retirement. Doctor. I own that theater, a bar, part
interest in a health club, and a couple of high-profile restaurants.
Plus the blue chip stocks and bonds, of course. I'm not in the same
class as you are about to be, but I could live fairly comfortably off
the investments and interest without ever touching my principal.
If your money isn't working for you, it's just gathering dust.' He
smiled.
Morrison shook his head. This was incredible. Why would a man of
wealth and property risk his life to work as a bodyguard^!
, Ventura must have read his mind. '
'Idle hands are the Devil's workshop.' A man likes to keep busy doing
work he enjoys.'
Morrison looked away from Ventura.
This was getting stranger--and more frightening--all the time.
Washington, D.C.
Michaels sat at his kitchen table, holding a cup of coffee.
It was early, just about dawn, and Toni was still asleep.
He drank and stared at the wall, his gaze going through the paneling
and Sheetrock and wood and focusing on nothing a thousand miles away.
And how is your life, Mr. Michaels?
Why, just fine, thank you very much. My ex-wife is getting remarried
to some Idaho dork and taking my child away from me--unless I want to
get into an ugly child custody case that will probably scar my daughter
for life, something she doesn't deserve and I won't do.
I personally spoke to the man who almost certainly killed scores of
Chinese by using some kind of radio beam to drive them crazy, and if I
had been on the fucking ball, I would have stopped him before he did it
again to scores of Americans. He walked into my office and I smiled
and let him walk out.
The head of my military arm was shot and seriously wounded because I
wanted him to go along and keep the federal marshals company, and the
guy I sent them all after plugged a marshal while he was at it, got
away, and is still on the loose.
My boss is ready to nail my ass to the nearest wall for not keeping her
in the loop.
What else? Oh, right. My woman is back and sleeping in my bed, but
she's considering taking a job where she'll be looking over my shoulder
at my work and then telling my boss all about it. And she didn't think
it was worth mentioning.
