What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [46]
“Yes you can, and we’re going to pay you very well for your troubles.”
“And that’s ‘very well,’ by government standards?” Liam asked, not intrigued at all.
“Well, yeah, but still.”
“Listen, jerk off. I’m retired. I’m done with all that crap, and it’s been— it’s been years since I did any kind of training or even picked up a gun. There are at least five other guys you can reactivate who are probably much more interested and more prepared to deal with whatever crap you’ve got to deal with. Call one of them.” He started to put the phone down, but then brought it back to his face. “And anyway, I shouldn’t be on your list of people to harass in the middle of the night after the whole thing with the Vice President.”
“Whitford is why I’m calling. He’s the problem, Liam.”
Liam held the phone out at arm’s length and stared at it, as if it had just bitten him. He sighed, muttering to himself. “What on Earth?”
“Liam? Liam? Hello?”
Liam put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Look, I—” Boehner sighed. “I know there’s been a lot crap between us. But this goes way beyond any kind of personal B.S. Just hear me out.”
“I’m listening,” said Liam. “You have thirty seconds.”
“You’ve seen the news?”
“Whitford taking over the state of Louisi—”
“Yes. And the refineries and pipelines and reserves,” said Boehner. “So you know he’s positioning himself to do something. Well, there’s more. Much more.”
“Okay.”
“As I’m sure you’re very aware, there have been a lot of strange things going on lately – unprecedented earthquakes, tornadoes, weird rain…”
“You think,” asked Liam, “that Dick Whitford is somehow controlling the weather? Earthquakes I can understand, but the weather?”
“No, what I’m saying is that there are a lot of folks who are starting to think really crazy stuff about all the things that have been happening.”
“Like what?”
“Well,” said Boehner, “it’s complex.”
“So, simplify it for me.”
“Well…”
“Cas.”
Boehner sighed. “The end of the world, Liam.” He spoke the words with the tone of a teenager forced to acknowledge a curfew or address someone as “sir.” “There are a lot of people out there who, when they look at all of the things that have been happening, jump to the conclusion that there’s a pattern – that there’s really some kind of meaning to be found in a series of unrelated natural disasters. There are a lot of people who’ve decided that – it sounds stupid, but, well – they’ve decided that it’s the end of the world. You know – like Armageddon and—”
“Yeah, I’ve seen the headlines. But what does this have to do with Dick Whitford and Louisiana?”
“He is, apparently, one of the ones who thinks this.”
“So?” asked Liam.
“Well, he’s really believes it.”
“So he’s a dumbass. And?”
“Well,” said Boehner, “apparently, the whole Louisiana thing is part of that.”
“What does that even mean?” Liam laughed. “Wait,” he said, “you want me to take care of Whitford? Take him out? I can do that.”
“No! Holy shit, no! That is not why I’m calling.”
“But it would be easy, and—”
“No—”
“I’d like to do it. Really.”
“No,” said Boehner, “that’s not what I want.”
“But that’s what I want.” Liam switched the phone to his other ear and settled in. “See,” he said, thinking back to the touchy-feely afternoon talk show that Raju liked to put on at the shop, “that’s the whole problem between you and me – with our relationship. Since the very beginning. You never acknowledged what I want. A healthy relationship is two-way street. A ‘give-and-take’ if you will, and—”
“Liam?”
“Yes?”
“Please shut up.”
Liam sighed. “So, what then?”
“Okay,” continued Boehner. “It’s like this. We just found the body of one of Whitford’s men here in D.C. A guy named Clyde Parker.”
“Clyde Parker is dead?”
“You knew him?”
Liam gave a non-committal grunt.
“Well,” said Boehner, “Parker apparently spent the last week or so snooping around Washington. He was apparently searching for something called ‘Baphomet.’”
“Hmm... sounds scary.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“No,” said Liam.
“It’s a project we had a few years back.