Aphrodite Shuddered - Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

Grecian Formula

Gall finally phoned me two weeks after my flight home from Turkey. I wondered what had taken him so long, but I was happy enough to be home and catching up on my sex life. After we exchanged code names on the phone, he merely said: "Execute Plan Z,” and hung up. Plan Z called for us to meet, 24 hours hence, at the Las Vegas Amtrak station, which is located behind the lobby of the Union Plaza Hotel. Although our phone conversations were always encrypted, we both assumed I was under outside electronic surveillance, despite the fact that word had come down to DISC to keep their distance from me.

The Union Plaza makes it convenient for train passengers to empty their pockets - by forcing them to cross the breadth of the casino on their way in or out of the Amtrak depot. The depot was crowded with excited arriving tourists and depressed departing ones, and noisy with slot machine bloops and bleeps from the adjacent casino - good cover for a secret meeting. Gall sidled up to me, and after exchanging pleasantries, he explained his lack of contact with me: "There's talk in Congress about investigating the RV Project, so the Old Man has shut it down - officially, that is."

"The paper shredders must be working overtime. And what about my fiasco in you-know-where?" I already knew that after the D-5 unit and the charred remnants of the SR-71 were recovered in a secret operation, the Air Force put out a press release which stated that an F-111 fighter jet based in Incirlik, Turkey had crashed into the Black Sea that day. It was a plausible cover story because unfortunately, F-111s frequently crashed.

"I can't say much, but certain agencies had a shit-fit when they caught wind of it - after the fact, of course. They were out of the loop, as the Old Man is fond of saying. We've been waiting for atmospheric gamma radiation to be detected, but nobody has reported anything unusual. Those must have been small neutron warheads after all, like Colonel McCoy said in his report.

I asked, "Hey won't people on the base notice that a Blackbird is missing?"

"Yes, but fortunately the whole fleet is being retired in a few months, right on schedule with getting another satellite operational. They were being phased-out anyway, because of the so-called end of the Cold War. The plane will eventually be listed as lost in a training accident or something like that."

"I wonder who ordered shooting missiles at us, anyway. Not Yeltsin or Gorby, I wouldn't think - with a coup attempt happening at the same time?"

"You already know that they gave us permission for the overflights - good timing, depending on how you look at it. But it's no secret that the KGB's been itching to shoot down a Blackbird for decades. That reminds me, Denny - from now on, cell or satellite phones are not allowed on military sorties in foreign airspace. If we learned anything, it was that."

"So what becomes of me now, John? Terminate With Extreme Prejudice?" I said half-jokingly. "Thanks to me, one of their spy planes got shot down for the first time in 30 years. I won't bother asking you if they're still able to do overflights before they fix the satellite - since I royally fucked-up and blew their cover."

"Well, the loss of the plane was an issue, but what can they expect with a rush job like that? I'm sure you can figure out by now why it was such a rush job. And nobody anticipated that problem with the phone. It was my responsibility, so don't beat your brains out over it. Anyway, you're much too valuable to get rid of, Denny. You've provided excellent intel during the past year or so. I also read in the colonel's report that you detected the ground-to-air missiles being fired at you seconds before their radar picked them up. That, and your quick discovery of the phone problem, may have saved your asses from getting killed - and saved the Old Man's job, I might add."

"I can't decide if that thing about remote viewing missiles being launched was for real, or just my imagination because I was so scared."

"You're too modest, Denny. It was too much of a coincidence to be just your imagination. And now the navy wants your services - that's the main reason why I set-up a face-to-face meeting this time. Obviously they liked your work on the sub rescue operation, huh. How'd you like to take a trip in a nuclear submarine? Officially, it’s a Special Research Vessel - no weapons on-board and a smaller crew, so it's not as cramped as a regular sub."

"I might actually enjoy that, as long as I don't have to get depth charged." I hated to admit it to myself, but I had begun to miss field work. My adventures in the Blackbird had scared the shit out of me, but had also exhilarated me.

"This won't be like the last mission, I can assure you."

"Okay. Sure, I'm up for it. It can't be any more dangerous than the military-hop I took to fly home last month. A Special Research Vessel, eh? That sounds like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea." If the mission was anything like the TV series, the navy's involvement was strictly covert in nature.

"That TV show was just CIA disinformation. Anyway, the operation's still in the planning stage, so I'll fill you in on the details after your security clearance upgrade gets approved."

"What clearance is that?"

"Even the name of it is classified higher than your current clearance level, so I can't even tell you that. After your experience with the BLOBs in Russia, and that other one who calls himself Marcus hanging around you, they almost have to upgrade your clearance to the max." I quickly deduced he was referring to what had been formerly called a MAJIC clearance - which I wasn't supposed to know about, even though UFO researchers had long since exposed its existence (MAJIC originally stood for "Military Assessment of the Joint Intelligence Committee").

"Either that or they'll bundle me off to the funny farm."

"That's really nothing to joke about."

"Megan would agree with you." I felt guilty about her, in the belief that I was partly responsible for her nervous breakdown or whatever "They" called it.

"She knows too much to be walking around as a security risk, in her mental state. I should have shut-up about her before, but I know you two were pretty close. She'll be fine - sooner or later."

"And what about Marcus? I may have blown his cover, but the fucker knows everything about me, too."

"We already got 24-hour a day surveillance on the guy - when we can find him. I doubt that you'll ever see him again, but keep me informed if he does contact you." Then he glanced at his watch and said, "I got to catch a flight back to Washington soon. Just sit tight, guy. For the time being, go back to your cover job."

"What cover job? Data entry specialist at the Department of Agriculture? How exciting."

"No, I'm talking about the committee, of course. What better cover than fund raising for the Democrats?"

"You sure it's okay? It's definitely a conflict of loyalty if nothing else.

Hey, you're not telling me to spy on him or anything like that, are you? How could anyone in government ever trust me in the future if I went along with that? Hell, Williamson might actually get elected, and then I'd be dead meat."

"Just play it straight down the middle, Denny. But as long as you are involved with Williamson in any way, and you become aware that he's doing anything illegal, the Old Man would appreciate it if you would let him know."

Unhappily for me, playing it straight down the middle was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. As it was much too late for me to get out, the only thing left to do was to get in as far as possible - regardless of who was president 16 months from now. I wondered how many secret government workers believed in a similar philosophy - practically everyone, I concluded - a mass movement in the direction of last resort, into the center of The Secret Beast.

* * *

My anger at Marcus had mostly fizzled out by now - two weeks after the fact - since pregnant Angie and Tina appeared very happy now and were even getting along again. In retrospect, my suspicions about him and his fellow BLOBs interfering with their pregnancies now seemed melodramatic to me. But deep down I knew that whether or not it was true, I dared not take it too seriously, even knowing what I already knew about extra-terrestrials - I might do something "crazy" in retaliation and thereby get whisked away to a CIA rest home like Megan. Marcus phoned the Williamson Committee office that day, and I happened to answer the phone. He said in his copybook English fashion: "Greetings, Denny. Is Jane or Angie available?"

"No, I'm the only one here. Dude, where've you been for the past two weeks? We've only raised two grand since you disappeared."

He replied, "I regret to inform you that I have accepted another position and am moving away from Las Vegas."

I pretended ignorance at the reason why he was quitting the committee. "Damn, that's too bad. You were our best fundraiser by far, so we'll really miss you around here. So what's your new job? If you don't mind my asking."

"I prefer not to discuss the subject of with whom I am employed." Abruptly changing the subject, he said, "Ah yes, I extend congratulations to you and yours, Denny."

"Oh really? Congratulations for what?"

"For Angie's and Tina's recent impregnation."

"Thanks but who told you that?" I asked, my voice betraying slight irritation. What fucking business is it of yours anyway?, I thought, and oddly enough, I strongly sensed that he had telepathically read that thought - even over the phone.

"I was so informed by Jane three days ago."

"Oh okay - thanks again, Marcus. Let's hope it turns out all right." [awkward silence] "Well, good luck to you. Maybe we'll run into each other again - soon. Keep in touch and let us know how you're doing." He hung up without saying goodbye, leaving me to wonder why he had bothered with the "congratulations" - perhaps to gauge my reaction? His BLOB and/or human bosses couldn't have been thrilled that I had blown his cover so easily, but I hadn't tried to outwit him. I had just been careful. If he hadn't been so enamored of Earth’s women - the most beautiful humanoid females in this sector of the Milky Way - I never would have caught-on to him.

* * *

On September 5th, Williamson's Atlanta office phoned Angie. She then told me: "Denny, Cliff is announcing that he's running for president any day now and they want us to have a really big fundraiser – a thousand dollars-a-plate. Can we afford it?"

"I guess so - a few grand to book a hall at the Convention Center, and about 10 grand for food and booze and kitchen staff."

Exuberant Angie said, "Oh, Den! If we pull this off, can we keep running the committee next year?"

"If we can get this thing to pay for itself, we'll see."

"I don't want the Atlanta people to muscle in on us, Den. We did all the work. If anybody tries, I know some guys who'll take care of 'em!" she said laughingly.

I wasn’t sure if she was just kidding. "No way. I definitely draw the line at mafia hit-men."

To ensure a decent turnout to our $1,000-a-plate dinner, I then booked (at hefty fees) two of Frank Sinatra's relatives to perform a few numbers for the contributors and Democratic Party freeloaders. When I informed Tina, she said, "Man, those people are corny! Why couldn'tcha get Kool 'n' the Gang?"

"Vegas is nuts about the Sinatras, Amazon. Don't be stupid - ouch!" I rubbed my stinging shoulder.

As I had anticipated, we were soon visited by several Williamson fundraisers from Atlanta. The three of them entered the office as I worked on the committee books and Angie prepared the invitations for the big fund raising dinner. Ashley and Cora were busily typing names and addresses into the mailing list data base.

"Ah'm Mary Jo Jenkins from the congressman's Atlanta office." Mary Jo Jenkins was white and in her late thirties, very attractive in a Southern Belle-ish, over-the-hill cheerleader way.

"Nice to meet you, Mary," I said.

"Call me Mary Jo - all women from Geo-juh use two fust names. It's a state law," she joked. "Ah'd like to introduce ya'll to Mark Stover and Luke Turner." Mary Jo pronounced their last names “Stovuh” and “Tuna”.

Shaking hands with both men, I said, "Good to see you again, Mark." It was the same Mark who had previously acted as bagman for Georgia billionaire Dub Dawson, when he gave our committee the $20,000 cash contribution. Mark and Luke didn't seem very biblical to me. Both were in their forties, wore slick Italian suits, sunglasses, and could have crushed me with one hand. As tough as they looked, I immediately sensed that Mary Jo was the boss.

Mark asked, "Did y'all get that check from Mistah Dawson, Denny?"

"By way of the Georgia Meat Packers For Good Government committee? We sure did." I now detected strong negative feelings emanating from Angie, who then strode stridently in our direction. This was her committee. Her new-found confidence was turning me on big-time. Tina, her feet propped on a desk, smiled at me from across the office, and then her head ducked behind the newspaper comic page. Her huge eyes peeked over the paper. I said, "Ah, here's our president, Angie Dragna."

Mark joked, "Are ya'll related to the mafia Dragnas in L.A.?”

Angie: "Uh-uh, but I know a few here in Vegas."

"Angie's a real kidder, aint'cha Angie?" said an amused Luke. Angie squinted up at him and displayed beautifully crooked incisors.

I said, "Hey, let's go into the auditorium where we can get to know each other. There's a bottle of booze in there - somewhere."

"That's so sweet, darlin," breathed Mary Jo.

Angie ushered our guests to the old movie theater section of the building while I talked briefly to Tina in the front office. "Call Jane and tell her to expect some house guests from Atlanta. I have an idea."

"I can read your mind, Caligula." That seemed to be true. With proper training, Tina could have made a good psychic.

"I'm just trying to a good host, maybe invite them to the club later."

"Those two gorillas would be hot to go there. But that broad looks like the original Ice Queen."

I walked to the front row, near the stage, where we sat around and drank shots of JD. Angie told me: "Denny, Mary Jo thinks that we need more volunteers."

Mary Jo: "Aftah the congressman throws his hat into the ring, Ah'd be happy to fly-in some of ou-ah people - consultants. Mark and Luke would love to help - wouldn't yew, boys." Mark and Luke nodded and smiled." Of co-us, we would assume y'all's expenses. Cliff appreciates y'all's help. The Williamson campaign’s pickin' up momentum, which means that a large-scale fundraisin' effort shall be required." Normally her southern accent was even stronger than Cliff’s, but she had carefully enunciated the words "shall be required."

Angie: "Oh, that's no problem. We're starting to expand now. After the fundraiser on Friday night, we'll have lots of expense money. And Denny set-up a computerized contributor list for direct mail - we're gonna do mass mailings as soon as Cliff makes it official. And we have lots of friends in town - you should meet the Chief of Police. He's a real neat guy."

Angie’s claws were out now, so I tried to distract her: "I have a better idea, sweetheart. Mary Jo, Mark, and Luke should stay at Jane’s house - man, it's a palace! Do you have a place to stay?"

Mary Jo: "Way-ell, we just flew in, and it ain't check-in tahm at ouah hotel as yet. It would be too much trouble, Ah'm sho-uh."

"Now, I won't hear of it," I said. "Those Strip hotels are firetraps anyway. Here, Luke - Mark, have another shot." After another round, I snapped my fingers and said. "I know - let's all go to Jane’s right now, before we get too wasted to drive. She's our committee vice-president, by the way." On the phone with Jane: "We're on our way over now."

Jane said, "Make yourselves at home - I need to do something - I'll be back in an hour."

After we all drove to Tim's and Jane's house, I phoned The LIFE Club, where Tim was busily getting the joint ready to open for business. Tim complained, "I was just doing the expense books. You wouldn't believe the laundry bills for this place. Towels - Jesus!"

"I can imagine. Guess what - three of Cliff's professional gunslinger-fundraisers are in town, so Jane invited them over to the house - we're there right now. It looks like they're trying to takeover the committee, or at least make it irrelevant."

"Oh yeah? Shit, and just when you’re ready to turn a profit - the bastards!"

"I figured it would come to this. I was thinking that you could give them the club's grand tour tonight."

"Gotcha. I'll show 'em a time they'll never forget - heh-heh."

"It's the least we can do, since they came all this way. If they have a fun time, they might want to be friends."

"Dad always told me: 'If you want a friend, be a friend."

* * *

We all sat in the shade near Jane's huge pool and discussed local politics. Mary Jo was saying: "...Of co-us, y'all' ah aware that Cliff could have mo' than one committee heah in Las Vegas. Even so, y'all impress me with y'all's enthusiasm and hard work, so we would be willin' to pay y'all mo' than adequate salaries."

I said, "I think we'll do just fine the way things are. This political racket is kinda fun, to tell you the truth."

"Way-ell, ‘racket’ is a strange way of puttin’ it," she said, acting like she was getting a case of the vapors.

Feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance, I said, "Let's cut the crap, Mary Jo. Jeez, you wanna co-opt our committee! If we go, our contacts and mailing lists go with us."

Angie, who was loaded now, flared-up: "Yeah! You just wanna glom-on after we laid all the-the-the groundwork." Mark nudged Luke, who then winked at Angie.

Waving a hand, Mary Jo breezily said, "Oh honey, don't git all antsy-pantsed. Y'all kin keep yo' cute little committee. Tomorrow we ah goin' back to Phoenix, where I shall be the new Southwest Region Campaign Manager. I expect that Cliff will soat out this situation shoatly."

I said, "There's enough campaign money to go around, Mary Jo, because we have our own connections, connections that you don't have and that Cliff needs. Hey let's forget our differences for the time being and have a good time, all right? Look - Jane's finally coming to join us." Luke nudged Mark, who upon seeing Jane, whistled through serviceable teeth. Jane, bronze and tall, wore a white cut-away one-piece swim suit.

After introductions, Jane said, "Denny - Tim wants you and the girls and our friends from Atlanta to come to the club tonight. It's been months since you've been there."

"Yeah I've been so busy lately! Sounds good." Now that I was out from under the thumb of Mr Webb, I felt free to visit The Life Club again. I turned to Mary Jo. "You folks want to go to a real Vegas party? I must warn you: it could get pretty wild." Mark and Luke both showed keen interest. They stared imploringly at Mary Jo, who said, "We have a 10 a.m. flight to Phoenix tomorrow, fellas."

Mark: "I'm bored shitless, M.J."

Luke: "Me too - "

Mary Jo laughed, "Okay, okay - down, bo's. Ah did have mah heart set on seein' Robert Goulet, howeva - "

Jane: "Great! I'll show you to the guest house - it's very comfortable..."

After they left, I teased Angie: "Are you attracted to Mary Jo, Angie? She was giving you the eye - I'm sure of it."

"You are sick-sick-sick, Denny Smith!" She pummeled me with her little fists.

Tina walked up to us and said, "Cut the comedy routine for a second. I'm gonna take off for L.A. in a little bit. The agency just called and they have a modelin' job for me tomorrow. So I'm outta here - you pre-verts have a good time at the club."

In early evening, while our guests slept-off the effects of jet lag and Jack Daniels, Tina phoned from L.A., "Jim just told me that Chesty is dyin', Herc. I want you 'n' Shortie to come to the hospital and visit 'im."

"Uh - "

"No uhs about it. Be at Marty's beach house in the morning."

I sighed and said, "All right, we'll be there around noon. I'm really sorry, hun.” Tina sniffed back tears. I blurted, "We don't really die, you know." I knew that human consciousness exists simultaneously in all physical and non-physical dimensions. Therefore, it exists simultaneously in the past, present, and future.

"I'm a Christian, remember? I already believe that I'll live forever. Since when did you get all religious 'n' shit?"

"I ain't religious at all. It's just that I - I learned things in the past few years, that's all."

Tina calmed down; her breathing slowed. "Now yer scaring me, Hercules."

"That's wonderful. I love you - see you tomorrow."

* * *

A stretch limo pulled into the driveway at 10pm. After our three guests, plus Angie, Jane, and myself, arrived at The LIFE Club, we saw the Chief of the Las Vegas Metro Police Department dancing in a conga line. Also present were the Deputy Mayor, the County Tax Assessor, a few of Senator Dodder's staffers, the senator’s son Duke Dodder and several State Representatives. My heart beat faster as Donna dished her fine ass on the dance floor. I hated to admit it to myself, but she was a younger, sweeter version of Tina.

Above the rock music, Mary Jo shouted into my ear: "Wheah’s all those people goin', honey?"

"Oh, to the meeting rooms in the back of the club."

"Meetin' whom?"

"Other like-minded folks. This is kind of a sex-club. I did mention that it gets pretty wild."

"Ah've heard o' places lahk this, but really - " She downed her double martini in one gulp. To my surprise, I sensed one her thoughts then: Sweet Lord on High, this is the place Cliff told me about. She turned to Mark and Luke. "Bo's, you wouldn't believe..." Loud music drowned her out. Seconds later, Mark and Luke sauntered toward the "meeting rooms."

When the music paused, I said to Mary Jo: "I know a place where we can view the proceedings without being seen."

"You naughty man! Spyin' on Mahk 'n' Lukie." She nursed on another double, and then giggled, "Let’s go, honey. This'll be a hoot!"

I whispered to Jane: "Gimme the passkey, Janie. Mary Jo wants the cook's tour."

We saw Mark and Luke entering the Greek Room, where there was no waiting, as I unlocked the door to a back corridor. The Greek Room? Oh man, are they ever in for a surprise, I thought. Then I told Mary Jo, "Let's take a short walk to where Luke and Mark are."

Mary Jo was getting the vapors again, this time for real: "Oh - oh - ah-right."

I opened the curtains in front of the large one-way glass. Inside the Greek Room, 12 sweaty naked bodies were writhing like tangled slugs.

Mary Jo's face turned very red. I said, "I've met the older lady - she's a librarian, believe it or not."

"Mah gawd! She's doin' three men!” Then one of the men yanked his spurting erection out of the librarian’s mouth and shot goop all over it. “Ugh - all over her fay-us! This is so wicked, Denny."

"Luke and Mark seem to be enjoying themselves, huh."

"Oh mahhh, ah didn't know Lukie was so, so b-big!"

"Yeah, really. That oriental girl sure is taken by him, ain't she?"

"In a manna o' speakin'." At that moment, a pretty and petit Japanese woman took Luke's huge boner past her tonsils. Meanwhile, Mark pounded this woman's pussy from behind before allowing the sticky-faced librarian to yank his cock out and orally finish him off.

I said to Mary Jo, "Check-out the loudspeaker." I flipped a switch and then we heard pleas, moans, and slapping flesh. Luke, still raring to go, lay on his back on the plush red carpet while an auburn-haired girl with translucent white skin and enormous breasts bucked on top of him. Mary Jo giggled in near-hysterics. Then it was my turned to be shocked: Donna had entered the room and got naked, revealing "her" considerably large penis, which a 60-year overweight white man immediately began to suck. Nice practical joke, Angie - thanks for letting me make a fool out of myself, I thought. Christ, it's like half of all my friends are trannies!

The trouble started when Luke rolled the redhead over onto her back. Soon Luke was dangerously exposed to the advances of a semi-famous black sit-com actor, who squatted over Luke's butt. Mark saw what was happening but he didn't say anything. Mark tried to stifle his sputtering laughter as the young comedian inserted the knob of his big cock into the butt of Luke, who, lost in ecstatic thrashing, now climaxed inside the kicking redhead. He yelled, "Goddam-what-the-fuck?" before bolting to his feet and punching the guy in the stomach and then in the face, while Mark had a laughing fit.

When he caught his breath, Mark said, "Ah-right, Mushmouth, quit hittin' 'im."

I told Mary Jo: "Let's go to Tim's suite. I think the show's over. I'm sorry, Mary Jo. I should have warned them about the Greek Room, but they ran off on me before I had a chance."

"Ah need some moonshine aftah seeing they-at! Ah hope the po' man is ah-right. Ah think Ah recognize him from television! He wouldn't enjoy the publicity."

Luke: "Yew fucked me in the ay-uss, nigga! I oughta murder yew."

Mark barked, "Shuddup 'n' leave 'im alone! Let's just beat it. Grab yo shit 'n' let's get the fuck outta heah."

One of the pretty doorkeepers looked in on the ruckus and then disappeared. The black actor pleaded, "Hey man, I’m sorry - it was a big mistake. Let's be civilized about this." He held his hand out to Luke, who viciously slapped it away.

Mark: "C'mon, moron, let's find M.J. an' split this pervert scene. I got my fuckin' nut." He zipped his pants.

Thirty seconds later, Mary Jo and I entered Tim's plush offices in the back of the club. Jane said, "Tim and Sheriff Luger went to the Greek Room a few seconds ago."

"Uh-oh, I hope we can smooth this over," I said.

Jane, Mary Jo, and I hurried down the public hall to the Greek Room entrance. Inside, Luke was tying his money belt as the sheriff tried to calm him down. "...Alright, sir, I'm sorry that happened to you but - oh, what's that thing sticking out of your pants?" The zipper on Luke's money belt was partially undone, and when Luke felt around on his waistband, his hand knocked a small bag of white powder to the floor. People went: "OOOO!" The faces of Mark and Luke paled as Luger crouched to his haunches and tasted the contents of the baggie. "Sir, please remove your money belt or whatever it is - thank you. Luger then addressed the room: "Sorry, folks, you'll have to find another party. Sir, I'll need to put the handcuffs on you - oh, you've done this before. Now, you have the right to remain silent..."

"Ah don't know nothin'. Somebody set me up - shee-it!"

* * *

Back in Tim's suite, Mark made accusations. "Hey, Denny, I think y'all set us up! Yer Angie made a crack about us meetin' the chief of police."

"Yeah right - what did we know about drugs? Anyway, that was the sheriff - not the Chief of Police. What kind of scam are you people running, anyway? I'm getting a good idea." I didn't specify, but I sensed that Mark had gotten my drift about money laundering. "Your best bet is to take that flight to Phoenix tomorrow, since Luke's gonna be in jail all weekend. I feel bad about this, so I'll post his bond on Monday."

"Aw, boolshit," Mark sneered.

Mary Jo said, "Now Mahk, Denny has made a good faith offah. He didn't know about the drugs. Did yew?"

"Hell, Ah didn't know the knucklehaid had any dope on 'im."

"I should hope not! Ah do not approve of nahcotics, Mahk," she stated for the record. “Denny's right - we gone to Phoenix tomorrow. Ah think we'd lahk to go back to Jane’s house now. Can we'all get a ride?"

Jane said, "I'll send the limo out front, Mary Jo. This is so horrible. If you need our help here in Vegas, you just call me."

I asked Jane, "Seen Angie?"

"She's in the bedroom watching TV." I walked to the room, where Angie was watching Dynasty.

I said to Angie, "God, this has been fucking nuts. Did you know Luke's going to jail? The sheriff found, like, an ounce of coke - "

"Yeah, Den, Jane just told me about it. Too bad it wasn't Mary Jo, huh."

"Hey, it could have been you. Let's go home, my little hoodlum. By the way, if you have any stray dope on you, get rid of it.” Angie at one time had been a regular coke user, but since our move to Las Vegas I made her promise never to bring coke to the house. Jane joined us then, and I told them both: “We can’t tell anybody about this – about any connection between Cliff and that Luke bozo. If the media ever get hold of this, all the hard work we’ve done will be wasted. Just let me take care of it.” I had no intention of informing on Cliff to the president, like Gall had “suggested” – rationalizing that there was no evidence of the drugs having anything to do with the campaign.

COPYRIGHT 2012 BY K.D. BISHOP