Stryker

By Mike Poppe

Stryker is this author's biggest and best crime novel yet. John Stryker Williams, known as simply, “Stryker,” finds himself disgusted with the gridlock caused by this nation's self serving and corrupt politicians. Because the political power structure protects itself from correction from within, Stryker realizes this problem can't be fixed by the voters. If this country is ever to move ahead, someone has to clean house. Stryker decides that since he refused to be bought or intimidated, he must take on the task of purging the greed from this country's politics. Together he and his beautiful, wild, and dangerous assistant, Sara O'Shea, set out to clean out the den of corruption, even if it means ignoring the legal system, and fixing the problem by means of one dead body at a time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Poppe
• Release date: Sep 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310692482

Mike Poppe

I was born in Rector, Arkansas, a small farming based town in Northeast Arkansas. Later, my parents moved to St. Louis in search of better economic opportunity. At age 16, disallusioned and bored with the “One Size Fits All” educational system, I dropped out in the 10th grade.Just as soon as I turned 17, I joined the Marine Corps. The education the Corps provided, wasn't always polite and pleasant, but it most certainly was not boring. My four year enlistment included one year in South Vietnam. 7 November, 1965 to 6 November, 1966. At the end of my enlistment, having attained the rank of Sgt E-5, I returned to civilian life.After nine months as an Industrial Engineering Clerk, I took advantage of an opportunity to move into transportation. For the next 34 years, I was a dispatcher and driver supervisor in the Trucking Industry.In 2011, the rise in popularity of E-books caught my attention. A life long avid reader, I'd always believed I could write a book, but didn't know how to go about getting it published. The birth of E-Books changed all that. In the fall of 2011, fulfilling a life long dream, I published my first book, The Sparrows Whisper.Today, my wife, Mary Katherine, and I, live in a small rural town in Southwestern Illinois. With the encouragement of family and friends, I've published a total of 13 novels. The split between my books has been divided pretty evenly between Mysteries and Westerns. Work on number 14, is under way.For all those that have taken the time to read my books, I appreciate your interest very much.

Book preview

Stryker

Story and Cover Illustration by Mike Poppe

Smashwords Edition

Copyright Mike Poppe October 02, 2015

Stryker is a work of fiction. No resemblance to anyone living or dead, is intended

Table of Contents

start

Cover

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

ChapterTwenty Two

ChapterTwenty Three

ChapterTwenty Four

ChapterTwenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty Two

Chapter Forty Three

Chapter Forty Four

Chapter Forty Five

Chapter Forty Six

Chapter Forty Seven

Chapter Forty Eight

Chapter Forty Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty One

Chapter Fifty Two

Finale

Chapter One

Rod Davis, the recently failed candidate for Governor of the state of Minnesota, was in Phoenix, Arizona, escaping the harsh cold winter of his home state. Far from having the discouraged state of mind one might expect after losing a long and difficult campaign, Rod arrived in Phoenix, with a bounce in his step, and a gleam in his eye.

Without a doubt, simply escaping the below zero temperatures of Minnesota, was enough to make anyone smile. However, in Rod's case, his bliss was primarily inspired by two other factors.

A. In addition to having all his expenses paid for on this six week vacation, he now had a nice off shore tax shelter, to the tune of a million dollars, as well as agreed upon unlimited use of a yacht in the Florida Keys. All this had been paid for by a group of mega wealthy supporters of the winning candidate for Governor. In return for these financial rewards, Davis had efficiently engineered a collapse of his own campaign, in the crucial last few weeks of the election.

B. During the days when his poll numbers started spiraling downward, at a campaign stop in Duluth, he met a beautiful blond who introduced herself as Carrie. She didn't offer a last name, and he seemed more focused on her physical attributes, than her name. A short but interesting conversation led to a series of calls between them, as the campaign continued. When he eventually conceded defeat, one of the first moves Davis made, was to contact Carrie, and arrange a meeting in Phoenix. Because he was still a major target for the media, Carrie suggested they register in separate motels.

His spirits raised substantially, Davis left the plane, and made his way through the airport. A redhead with eye catching curves, wearing a thigh high skirt, low cut blouse, and a chauffeur cap, held a large sign bearing his name. His chauffeur introduced her self as Trixie, then escorted him to his limousine. After assuring him that the limo was being provided at no charge by his grateful friends, Trixie held the door open while Davis stepped into the limo and buckled up. At that point, she pressed a button that sent a mini bar sliding within reach. It appeared Trixie had already been schooled on Rod Davis's drink preferences, for without asking, she poured a double scotch and water, then handed him the glass.

Enjoy your drink, Mr. Davis. I'll have you in your hotel in fifteen minutes.

At the hotel, when Trixie helped Davis out of the limousine, he attempted to tip and thank her. She smiled and shook her head in refusal. My services have already been paid for sir. My instructions are to escort you to your room and make sure that you are completely satisfied with your accommodations before I leave.

When he checked into the hotel, the desk clerk made it a point to express his condolences on losing the election.

I hate it that you lost the election, Mr. Davis. I'll tell you this much, if I'd have been a voter in Minnesota, you sure would have got my vote.

Davis thanked the man, picked up his room key, and headed upstairs with Trixie following close behind. Once in his room Davis looked everything over, and told Trixie, You can tell my friends, that I'm completely satisfied.

Trixie smiled, then replied, Not yet, you aren't, as she undid two snaps, and dropped her top on the floor. She stepped forward, kissed him deeply, and whispered, Your friends wished me to show you a good time, and tell you, 'Welcome to Phoenix.'

After Trixie left, Davis poured himself another drink, smiled at the mirror, and said, Rod Davis, you made a wise choice. Who the hell needs the headaches of being Governor anyway?

**** ****

An hour before Davis landed in Phoenix, a beautiful brunette, wearing a blond wig, walked into a hotel and registered under the name of Carrie Lambert. The clerk used a diagram to show her exactly where her two adjoining rooms were located, and handed her the keys.

By use of artfully applied makeup, an over abundance of jewelery, and oversize sunglasses, her appearance had been substantially altered. Once in her room, she called her boss, who then entered through the back entrance, and took the elevator to her room. After a complete inspection of the room, he set up a web cam where it wasn't likely to be noticed. With nothing be done until Davis arrived, he unlocked the connecting doors, entered the other room, closed the doors behind him, took a seat on the couch, and waited for Davis to arrive.

When Carrie called and invited Davis to her room, he explained he had been taking a nap, but promised he would be there within the hour. Forty five minutes later, he knocked on her room door. Swinging the door open, the sexy blond threw her arms around Davis, and thrilled him to his toes, with an extremely passionate kiss. She pulled him inside, kicked the door closed, and whispered, Come here. Knowing he was hot on her heels, she stopped on the far side of the bed, where he couldn't see the connecting doors, or the mirror. To make sure she had his undivided attention, Carrie unbuttoned her blouse, tossed it to him, and then began a slow and enticing strip tease.

As the last bit of clothing hit the floor, Stryker, the blond's boss, who had been watching on the web cam, quietly entered the room. Moving across the floor in his socks, he dropped a loop of rope over Rod's head, and quickly pulled it tight around his throat. The corrupt ex-candidate for Governor made a brief, but desperate struggle for life, but by the time the woman pretending to be Carrie, picked up her last article of clothing, Rob Davis was dead.

Shedding the blond wig, make up, and jewelery, Sara O'Shea, now back to being a brunette, showered, and slipped into a different dress. Within an hour, she and her boss, Stryker, were on their way to the airport, where a private jet was waiting to take them to Las Vegas. They had been registered in a hotel there for the last four days. Should a need arise to verify their location at the time of Davis's death, two well paid, and expertly coached witnesses were prepared to verify the four of them had been in Vegas together, at the time Rod Davis was killed.

Chapter Two

The month of May found first term U.S. Senator from Arizona, Joy Kane, enjoying a vacation at a lush private resort in southern Alabama. Because Joy was always a priority target for the media, private security was on hand to keep the press and other undesirable people far away.

Life was good for Senator Kane. She was the rising star of her party. Already people were talking of her moving to the White House in a few years. Joy was a campaign manager's dream. Not only was she charming and beautiful, she was totally at ease in front of the television camera. Much like John F. Kennedy, the camera was her friend, not something to be feared. She had an innate ability to deflect even the most damning questions in such a way, that few ever noticed that when she finished speaking she had not addressed the question at all. Confronted with problems that might have crippled the campaign of another politician, she had proven capable of making them disappear through use of her sense of humor, her radiant smile, or the use of large under the table cash bribes. On a few occasions, when she deemed it necessary, Joy had resolved the threat of political embarrassment, with use of sexual favors.

Joy Kane had one more very important factor going for her. A significant and powerful force of which the public was very much in the dark. Joy was bought and paid for, by the Calabrese crime family. They had invested huge sums of money in their plan to put her on the eventual road to the White House. Once there, they expected her to use her influence to carefully make changes that would deepen their power and wealth.

For four days, from a hill overlooking Joy Kane's lakeside refuge, the man known as Stryker, monitored her activities using a pair of binoculars. Four times a day, she swam out to the floating platform 500 yards from shore. Each time she arrived at the platform, Joy climbed aboard, stretched out, and tanned for a half hour before swimming back to shore.

On the first three trips of each day, her body guard, a hulking ex cop named Ted Dillon, swam with her. Despite the fact that even as a rookie, he had lacked endurance while swimming, his file listed him as a strong swimmer. Because this gig paid very well, and he had designs on making a move on the pretty senator, he had declined to correct the record.

On her first day at the resort, when it came time for her last swim to the platform, Ted begged off, and offered to find someone else to go with her. Joy laughed, told him not to bother, and made the swim alone. Every day since then, she had made the last swim of the day with her bodyguard still on shore.

On her last day of vacation, twenty minutes before Joy would take her fourth swim of the day, a boat stopped and anchored approximately 100 yards on the far side of the platform. Sara O'Shea, an extremely well built brunette, stepped out on the deck of the boat, and dropped her towel. The sight of her eye catching figure in her skimpy bikini, caught everyone's attention while her boss slipped over the side.

Using scuba gear, Stryker swam underwater until he stopped at the edge of the platform, using it as a shield from being seen by anyone on shore. Had there been any chance of his presence around the platform being noticed, it disappeared when Sara reached back, untied her bikini top, and let it drop, grabbing the undivided attention of everyone in the area.

Stryker waited until Joy Kane was almost to the platform, before he made his move. Before she had any idea of his presence, Stryker, breathing oxygen through the mouthpiece, maneuvered beneath Joy. As soon as she came within reach, his left hand grabbed one of her legs. His other hand clutched her bikini top. He quickly pulled her beneath the surface, before she had a chance to call for help, or create a disturbance on the surface of the water.

As Stryker pulled her downward, she fought desperately to break free, in a desperate attempt to reach the surface, but his grip was far too strong for her to break. At last, unable to hold her breath any longer, Joy's mouth opened, and her lungs began filling with water. After a short struggle, her shapely body soon went limp, and began sinking slowly toward the bottom.

Grabbing her by the arm, Stryker pulled her along, as he swam back to the boat. Rising to the surface on the far side of the boat, he took the rope and anchor from Sara's hand, then looped it around Joy's shoulders. He lowered her down twenty feet, then secured the other end of the rope to one of the boat's tie downs.

Once back aboard, Stryker fired the engine, and trolled slowly out to the deepest part of the lake. There, he tied on an additional 50 pound anchor to Joy's rope, and let her sink to the bottom. Considering the bottom was nearly 200 feet deep in that area, there was little chance of her body ever being discovered.

That evening, Sara and Stryker, boarded the private jet for their trip back to the nation's capital. Their boss, Kay Albright, had arranged for them to attend a special White House dinner. The occasion was being used to honor a Marine Corporal, who killed two terrorists with his bare hands, before they could set off a bomb in a crowded shopping mall.

Flush with the excitement of pulling off a risky but necessary kill, Stryker and Sara walked right past the seats and headed for the private bedroom in the rear of the plane, undressing on the go.

That evening, the White House dinner was interrupted, when the President himself, stepped up to the microphone and made a major announcement.

As much as I hate to throw a wet blanket on the spirit of this special occasion, I also find it necessary to tell you that first term senator from the great state of Arizona, Joy Kane, has apparently drowned while swimming at a resort in Alabama. Her body has not yet been recovered. The search continues. She disappeared in full view of a number of people on shore. There is no reason to suspect her death was anything other than accidental.

Like the rest of the crowd, the faces of Stryker and Sara bore the expressions of shock and dismay upon hearing the announcement.

**** ****

The next morning, a meeting was held between the heads of the largest organized crime families. The Calabrese family was not made aware of the meeting. The unexpected death of Senator Joy Kane was a game changer for organized crime. From the beginning, they had seen the writing on the wall. With Joy Kane in the White House, the Calabrese family would use that influence to start squeezing out the other families. In a few years, they would at the very least, be the dominant crime family in the country.

Now, with that threat removed, those who would have been squeezed out, settled on a new strategy. Over the next four days, every major leader of the Calabrese family was ambushed and murdered, including the head of the family, Frankie Calabrese. In seven days, the Calabrese crime family was nothing more than a memory.

Chapter Three

The tall distinguished and impeccably dressed 49 year old U.S. Senator stepped out of a taxi, handed the driver an impressive tip, then walked toward one of the entrances to the Watergate complex. As often happened, he was soon recognized and stopped by tourists. A politician can get away with doing a lot of things, but being rude to the public is not one of them. He flashed his well polished professional smile, and told them how much he appreciated the opportunity to meet with them. In response to the usual requests to pose with them for a picture, he smiled and replied, Why of course. It would be my honor.

In the group's eyes, the sincerity of his statement was certified gold, when he asked them to be sure and email him a copy of the picture for his personal collection. Of course they had no way of knowing that every such picture was deleted on arrival. If a voter later showed up inquiring about the picture, it was a simple matter for his staff to explain that it had been lost in a hard drive crash.

After the picture was snapped, he offered his regrets, explaining that he was late for an important meeting. Pretending to not hear the questions that kept coming, he rushed toward the nearest entrance to the building.

Once inside, he took the elevator to the fifth floor, exited, and walked to the third office on the left. At the door, he paused momentarily to be sure his tie was straight, and that the shine on his shoes hadn't been marred. Satisfied with his appearance, the senator from South Dakota opened the outer door and stepped inside.

A pretty secretary with auburn hair looked up, smiled, and asked, May I help you?

Smiling to hide his disappointment that she hadn't recognized him on sight, he replied, Yes, I'm Senator Bob Collins. I have an appointment with Stryker in fifteen minutes.

After a quick glance at her computer screen, she replied, Yes, so it seems. Just have a seat. He'll be with you shortly.

Collins picked out the closest of the four chairs along the wall, so he could get the best view of the secretary's legs while he waited. The waiting room was spartan in appearance. There were no pictures or posters. Not even a clock on the wall. Also noticeably absent were items like a television, magazines, or piped in music, to help visitors relax while they waited. The cold and impersonal waiting room was a reflection of the attitude toward politicians held by the man he was here to see. The text he received last evening from the man behind that door, carried a tone that was closer to a command, than an invitation.

While he waited, Senator Collins grew more uncomfortable with every passing minute. Because of his connections and influence, he had grown used to people currying his favor. Now, despite being a three term U.S. Senator from the state of South Dakota, and second in line for the senate leadership, here he sat in this waiting room, feeling like an unruly student waiting to be dealt with by the principal.

The senator had been summoned to speak with one John Stryker Williams. The man's name came at the insistence of his father after watching the movie, Sands of Iwo Jima. So impressed was he with John Wayne's character, Sgt. John Stryker, that he passed the name on to his son.

After entering politics, people noticed the same hard bitten and relentless attitude in John Stryker Williams, as displayed by Sgt. Stryker in the movie. With time, his first and last names had faded away, leaving him known to everyone as simply, Stryker.

To the general public, Stryker was almost an unknown character, yet there were few in politics at all levels, who didn't worry about staying in the man's good graces. This was the man who destroyed the political careers of men and women, who in his opinion, became political liabilities, or were guilty of abusing the power of their office. By law, he held no legal power to fire anybody. Yet, men and women with unbreakable ties in Washington, including solid friendships with the resident of the White House, found themselves forced out of office, with all the efficiency and savagery of a paid assassin.

As a high school student, Stryker developed an interest in politics. While in college, he became appalled, as he became more aware of the skyrocketing level of corruption and the self serving attitudes of this country's politicians. He decided that because of the power of rich campaign contributors, the problem couldn't be fixed by the voters. It was his opinion that it could only be corrected from within, by someone who refused to be bought. When it became apparent, that the system had turned everyone in politics, to at least some extent, a slave to money and power, Stryker decided he couldn't trust anyone other than himself to fight the battle.

Since he believed both political parties were corrupt, he flipped a coin to decide which party he would join. Choosing to work for one party would give him a base to operate from, and a station from where he could hear inside rumors and information. However, he kept his eyes on politicians of both parties, and his decisions to take action against those he found to be crooked, were free of party ties.

After starting out delivering flyers and addressing envelopes, Stryker's rise in the political world had been almost meteoric. His superiors found him willing, capable, and fearless. Once assigned a task, he refused to let any obstacle stand in his way of successfully completing that job. Never once had he run for office of any kind, but by the time he was 30, Stryker was easily the most powerful and feared political advisor in the country. Once he set his sights on getting rid of a politician, or one of his corrupt cronies, Stryker was a stubborn bulldog, who refused to let anything, including the legal system, to stand in the way of his objective.

A number of things had happened to people who failed to meet Stryker's standards, and who refused his requests that they resign.

A member of the house of representatives woke up one morning to find his house on fire. Two days later, he opened his car door and found a bomb in the floorboard. As it turned out, the bomb was a dummy. However, the representative from Kentucky must have taken it as a message, for that very afternoon, he resigned his office, effective immediately.

A senator from Texas with a long standing reputation for keeping the prostitution business alive and well, continued to ignore Stryker's requests to stop funneling federal money into worthless projects in Texas. One Monday morning, he discovered that he was not as much above public reproach, as he had once believed.

As he was having breakfast at his favorite restaurant, three blocks from the Capital Building, he opened the morning newspaper, and found a picture in which he was escorting a pair of scantily clad, high priced call girls, out of a motel. That very day, his activities became the focal point of the media in all it's forms. Two months later, after one embarrassing revelation after another, and under constant pressure from senate leadership, he was forced to resign.

Tim Wells was a corrupt lobbyist, well known for providing paid vacations, below market real estate deals, and interest free loans, to politicians who pledged their votes to the companies he represented. Stryker asked him many times to give up his practice of buying votes. Wells simply laughed in his face. One morning when he was late coming down for breakfast, his maid went upstairs and found him dead in his bed. He had choked to death on a on a pile of twenty dollar bills, stuffed deep in his throat.

Conspiracy theorists in Washington were beginning to whisper that the common thread in all these cases, was Stryker. Senator Collins dismissed that talk as ridiculous fear mongering. Still, he had to admit, that having Stryker looking over the shoulders of every politician, tended to make them all somewhat uneasy.

Believing the best defense was a good offense, the senator ordered his staff to investigate Stryker to every degree possible. He hoped to uncover some significant piece of dirt with which he could blackmail the self styled political Robin Hood. At the very least, he wanted to be able to force him into restricting his activities to politicians other than himself. If Stryker had something really bad in his past, perhaps he might even be able to intimidate him into working on his behalf. At a price of course. Senator Collins paid for favors done on his behalf. Even his enemies gave him that much.

To the senator's dismay, the investigators report stated that other than a speeding ticket at age 16, they were unable to uncover anything in Stryker's life, past or present, that might be used against him.

With his eyes still focused on Stryker's secretary, Collins decided that after this meeting, he would sit down and come up with a way to attack Stryker from a different angle. All his years in Washington had taught him there was always a way to get what you wanted, if you were willing to do whatever it took to make it happen.

Chapter Four

Senator Collins was alerted by the sound of a buzzer at the secretary's desk. She clicked off the buzzer, then called out, Senator? He will see you now.

The way the cute redhead immediately turned her attention to other things, without so much as giving him a second look, greatly irritated the senator from South Dakota. He was used to having women, who were impressed by his position and power, lavish their attention on him. He decided then and there, that if ever he got the chance to destroy Stryker's career, his arrogant secretary would share his fate. The smug bitch would have a different attitude when she discovered that he had the power to open or close the doors to jobs in Washington. If she wanted to work in this town, she would have to come through him. When that day came, he would take great pleasure in making damn sure she earned it.

He took two deep breaths to help him relax, assumed a posture of confidence, opened the door to Stryker's office, and quickly stepped inside, projecting himself as a man of importance, who didn't have time to spare. It was a time proven tactic that had put powerful enemies on the defensive many times over the years.

Today, his bubble burst when Stryker didn't even bother to rise and greet him. Instead, he merely said, I'll be with you in a moment.

Looking around, Senator Collins realized that there were no chairs in the office, other than the one Stryker himself was using. Watching the senator's eyes, Stryker advised, You won't be here long enough to sit down, Senator. I didn't bring you here to socialize.

Projecting bravado he didn't feel, the senator replied, I'm a busy man. Now whatever you have on your mind, please spit it out. I don't have time for games.

Stryker's face was a stone wall, showing no hint of emotion, as he responded to Senator Collins.

During your last campaign, you carried on an affair with one of your campaign workers.

The senator, an old hand at lying on the spur of the moment, smiled and said, Are you serious? That's nothing more than a rumor my opponent's campaign cooked up, to try to make me look bad with the voters.

Without saying a word, Stryker turned on his android tablet, turned it so it was in full view of the senator, then pressed the play button on a video. As soon as he recognized the video for what it was, Senator Collin's face turned ashen. Snatching the tablet off the desk, he fumbled several times, as he tried to find the controls for the video. In desperation, he placed it back on Stryker's desk, upside down. The squeak in the senator's voice betrayed how badly he was shaken by the video.

Where in the hell did you get that?

Using the tone of a general reprimanding an upstart second lieutenant, Stryker responded, Senator, that's my business. The thing is, it's clearly a video of you and your campaign worker in a motel room in Rapid City. As near as I can tell, you have a unique way of discussing campaign strategy. Senator, you won that election by running as the family values candidate. This video caused me to do more investigating. Since then, I've discovered you have a long standing history of skirt chasing. Bob Collins, you're a fraud. You lied to the voters, and you've brought disgrace upon your office, and your political party.

Collins, trying to regain control, asked, Well, knock off the phony outrage. Let's get to it. How much will it cost to make that video go away?

Stryker's answer hit like a thunderbolt.

The price is a press conference on the evening news, in which you announce your immediate retirement. At this very moment, I have a man sitting outside your house with two copies of this video. If you fail to make that announcement, he will immediately hand deliver one copy to your wife. When he leaves there, his next stop will be the CBS newsroom.

Quickly gathering his thoughts, the senator went on the attack.

Well Mr. Stryker, in that case, why don't you go ahead and do as you please? For your information, my wife hired a detective to follow me two months ago, and has already served me with divorce papers. As far as the media is concerned, it's really not that big a deal. One press conference with my pastor standing by my side, where I admit my guilt, and pledge myself to a new beginning, will satisfy the voters of South Dakota. Most of them really don't give a damn what I do, just as long as I continue to funnel federal money into my state. Stryker, you may have pushed a few politicians around with your strong arm tactics, but you should have talked to people before you tried it with me. Sonny, you're in the big leagues now. If I was you, I'd find another line of work, because I'm going to make it a point to run you out of this town.

When Stryker's face remained unchanged, and he failed to offer a rebuttal, the senator turned and walked out the door. On his way out, he directed a vulgar comment at Stryker's secretary. Unimpressed, Nora didn't even bother to look up from her desk.

As he left the Watergate complex, Senator Collins had a smug smile on his face, and walked with newfound energy. He had feared a much more damaging revelation at the hands of Stryker. Instead, he had discovered the man was a paper tiger.

After dealing with yet another group of tourists, a taxi came to his rescue when it pulled over to give him a ride. Collins was grateful to see a sign in the cab informing passengers that this driver's English was limited. He was in no mood to trade banter with a cabbie.

Halfway back to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet a group of campaign contributors, the senator began having second thoughts about the meeting he had just walked out of. By all rights, Stryker should have blown up at the way he refused his order to resign. Instead, he acted like he really didn't give a damn. Why was that? The loud and boisterous enemies were the easiest to handle. The quiet ones were the ones that required careful handling. What did Stryker have up his sleeve? By the time Senator Collins stepped out of the cab, he had decided it was time to start making immediate plans on how to take care of Stryker before he became too much of a problem.

**** ****

While the senator was searching for answers on his ride home, Stryker pulled up the note program on his tablet, entered the senator's name, made a coded entry, saved the change, then closed the tablet. Then he called his man sitting outside the senator's home, and told him to cancel the operation. Crossing the room, he opened his door and spoke to his secretary.

Nora, why don't you go ahead and go home? I'm going to close up shop in a few minutes. I'll lock up before I go.

She thanked him, grabbed her purse, locked her desk, then said, Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning. As Nora went out