The Term Paper

By Steven M. Gareau

The Term Paper

This story takes us through the life of a young man who gets caught up in the dark world of dirty politics.

While attending American University, Sam Garrison wrote The Term Paper during his four year commitment to the USAF. His written radical views at that time exposed the two party system in the United States.

His National Government course and its professor will lead him years down the road to a professor who had a group of 4 students of national government only there’s was on how to destroy America and its Constitution from within.

Sam finds himself and his friends being tracked down by government officials 20 years after writing what he thought was a benign yet radical term paper exposing flaws in the structure of a government. Suddenly connected to 4 students with a similar theory Sam finds himself faced with individual that will silence him at any cost.

The twist turns of this exciting thriller will leave you on the edge of your seat and wanting to turn to the next page.

Wondering. (Could This Ever Happen In Our Country?)

Remember what Ronald Reagan said. “One of these mornings you’re going to wake up and wonder – What ever Happened to America?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648013997

Book preview

Chapter 1

My crew and I had just won our first Thursday night regatta, and we headed to the Bay Club to celebrate. Sandy, the club’s owner, greeted me on our way in and shook my hand. I heard congratulations are in order, she said. I’ve sent a bottle of our cheapest bottle of champagne to your table to get the festivities going.

Only the best for my guys, I said, laughing. I thanked her for the booze and put my hand on my girlfriend BJ’s back to guide her to our table where my crew was waiting for us. We ordered more drinks and appetizers and proceeded to recap the night’s win. We recounted with glory how we were the first boat around the leeward mark and even though we got stuck in traffic around the second mark, we tacked before the rest of the fleet and made up time.

A waitress came by and delivered fried clams, calamari, and lobster tails. I ordered another round of drinks and told the pretty, ponytailed girl that we’d need a few minutes before we were ready to order dinner. I dipped a lobster tail in clarified butter and slurped the velvety soft meat from its shell when Sandy approached the table.

Sam, she said, do you mind if I steal you for a minute?

I excused myself, kissed BJ’s hand, and followed Sandy down a short hallway to the hostess station. What’s up? I asked.

One of my valets just alerted me that he saw someone walking around your car, shining a flashlight in the driver’s side window.

I glanced behind me into the parking lot. When?

A few minutes ago. Don’t worry. Joey shouted at the man and he ran away. It’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure. He was probably just looking for wallets.

Do you think Joey could describe him?

She nodded. Stocky like a boxer with broad shoulders. Joey said it was too dark to get a better look. Thought maybe he had dark hair, though. I thought about the other night when I’d been at dinner with my best friend Stan Grisson. When I got to the restaurant, Stan was in the parking lot talking to man of similar stature. Later on that night, I thought I’d seen the same man skulking around my condo complex.

I thanked Sandy for letting me know and went back to the crew, who were well into the winning celebration. It’d been a perfect night for a regatta with winds at seven to ten knots coming out of the south. There’d been ten boats in our class and we were all sailing with only a main sail.

Our positioning through our timing run to the start line was as good as it got. Lou, the bowman, had kept an eye out for boats in our way. The wind had filled our sails on the reach to our first course marker and with clean air, we set off toward Long Island. Dave, the tactician, had worked on the compass course and channel markers we needed to round at port side, continuing onto the next leg of the course under the Long Island Bridge mid-channel marker. The wind shifted on this leg due to the configurations of the Boston Harbor Islands and I had given the order to tack, changing our course to a port tack, the team in unison moved the sails, main, and jib without losing speed in the maneuver, giving us our best position for rounding the mark.

The next two legs were between two smaller islands. We kept our course and stayed in the lead, rounding our next mark to port for the fifth and final leg of the race. The line to the finish was perfect for this sail configuration. Our boat speed was maintained at a little better than six knots. Lou shouted out lobster pot markings on port and starboard. I played it as tight as I could, going through the mine fields of lobster buoys in our heading to the committee boat marking the finish line. Lou called out once again from a hundred yards to seventy-five to fifty and then we heard the horn from the committee boat indicating our first place position. The crew was ecstatic: winning a Thursday night regatta was something we had never done.

The beer flowed till nearly closing time. Finally, when our server told us she needed to close out our tab, I paid the bill and everyone left.

BJ and I walked to the valet stand and I told her what Sandy had said. What do you think the man wanted? she asked.

I have no idea. The valet brought my car to the curb and I opened the passenger door for her. Lying on the dashboard was a clear binder cover with For Your Eyes Only in bold print. In my line of work, I often received confidential information from and for clients. I’d had no idea when I began consulting what a volatile world it could be.

BJ got in the car and picked up the binder. Do you think this could be what the man was looking for? I’d been so busy that I hadn’t had time to go through the file and I didn’t know what it contained.

I got a bad feeling about what the folder contained. What do you want to do this weekend? I told my staff I will be out of touch for the weekend and that I will see them on Monday, I said to change the subject.

Well, it seems my weekend calendar has been cleared as well. BJ winked at me.

The drive to the condo was short. Driving up to the gate, Larry, the guard, stopped me rather than waving me through. Evening, Mr. Garrison. Someone left this for you. He handed me an envelope.

Thank you, I said, taking it from him. My name scribbled in pen alarmed me. Business documents were always typed and always delivered by courier or mail to my office. Larry, do you happen to remember what the person who dropped this off looked like?

He gave the same description Sandy gave earlier at the Bay Club but added that the man had short hair and a roundish face with a rough-looking complexion.

Chapter 2

I parked the car and walked with BJ to the elevator. Her concern was visible and this upset me. The elevator opened and we got on without saying a word. BJ stood so close I could feel her trembling. I turned and held her close and said, How about a night cap with me and we can talk about how we will spend this long weekend. She quickly agreed and seemed to relax just a bit so I kept talking. I have a special place I would love to take you.

BJ looked into my eyes and said, I’ve grown deeply in love with you. I trust you and your decision for this weekend.

The doors opened and as we walked down the hall to my condo, BJ asked what I had in mind for the weekend. I said, There’s a place I like to go when I need to think and relax. It’s a short drive from here, near the Mohegan Sun Casino in Connecticut. I will call the spa resort tomorrow and see if they have a villa open for the weekend. You will love them, each has a nice hot Jacuzzi privately set into the condo’s fenced-in garden area.

Sounds great, I can’t wait to see this special getaway of yours.

I unlocked my door and we walked in. I started to turn on the lights when BJ put her hand over mine and said, We don’t need the lights on when a candle will do.

When I had bought my condo a year or so earlier, BJ had knocked on my door to welcome me to the neighborhood. She said, My name is Bethany Johnson, but my friends call me BJ.

As I had opened the door for her to come in, I’d said, Well, I hope to be a friend then.

The first time she had entered my home, she looked around the condo and said, I always liked this spot because it overlooks the harbor. You can also see part of the Boston skyline from your balcony.

Not to mention my sailboat. I couldn’t help but brag a little.

She had turned from me to the window, and her dirty blond hair fell in front of her eyes. Which one is yours?

Just beyond the last pier by the channel. BJ had said she’d never gone sailing. With that I took a chance. We will have to change that. I race her every Thursday night.

Where? she asked.

Right here in the bay. It’s a class called the PHRF—the Performance Handicap Racing Fleet.

She looked at me with a smile and said, I would like that. She came sailing the next week and we’d been together ever since.

Chapter 3

The day was sunny and in the eighties, so I took the Vette to a surprise lunch with BJ. With the wind blowing in her hair, she looked relaxed sitting beside me. BJ turned to me and said, I can’t explain it, but when I’m with you, I feel safe. Even after you told me about the man looking in your car and leaving you that mysterious envelope, I always feel like you will take care of me.

That’s because I will. I squeezed her hand as I drove.

Sam, what did you do with the folder and the envelope?

I put it with the other material I will be taking with me to St. Louis next week. For the job I’m doing for Matt McAdler, the new owner of my company.

Matt? BJ asked. Isn’t he the one who gave you the binder that was in your car? Do you think he might know who may have wanted it?

I’d chosen Matt to buy my company because I liked his work ethic and his commitment to his children. I always felt how a man treats his family says a lot about him. I don’t know, but I will ask him. Good idea.

Do you mind if I ask what’s in the folder?

Until I was certain that me selling the company and Matt’s report had nothing to do with the man who’d been snooping around my car, I feared BJ might be in danger, so I didn’t want to tell her too much. I figured the less she knew, the better. Oh, nothing really. You know that I sold my company to Matt McAdler He wants me to critique the new employees and management team and then report back to him with my findings. And he wants me to spend a little time with the sales team both in the office and on sales calls. I shrugged casually. Just to make sure everyone is a good fit.

Matt had told me that the folder included applications of all the employees with a security background check on each person. It also included what he expected of my consulting services as he transitioned into taking over the company I’d sold him.

I was flying to St. Louis in a few days to meet with members of his new team, and I figured I’d have plenty of time to read the personnel files on the plane. Thanks for the folder, I’d said, when we’d met for lunch to discuss the upcoming sale. Once I’ve been in St. Louis for a few days, I’ll call you and give you my input.

Sam, Matt had said, there is sensitive material in the folder meant for your eyes only. Please keep it close.

I had told Matt, It’s in good hands and will be protected. The meal had ended, and with sincere appreciation, he shook my hand.

Now I looked at BJ while I was driving and said, I can’t tell you specifically, but I can say they’re background checks on his employees. I also have another stop that I’m looking forward to on this trip that was set up by my good friend Professor Gillian Daniels. Gil has set me up with a professor friend of his from Midwestern University. This friend of his has a term paper written by four students that had a twist in how to overturn our government. He thinks it will appeal to me.

BJ asked, Why does this interest you?

Years ago when I was in the Air Force and was taking classes, I had written a similar term paper about how a third party could be more of gate keeper, keeping the other two parties in line with our constitution. BJ seemed very interested and wanted to hear more. I was driving into Michael’s winery and our discussion of the term paper would have to wait.

BJ said she had never known such beauty was so close.

We walked through the gift shop to a tasting room. A young lady asked if we would like to do a tasting and I told her we had reservations for lunch. We walked upstairs to the restaurant and were seated by the picture window overlooking the rolling hills of the winery and its vast acreage of vines. Just then the waiter brought a bottle of merlot with two monogramed glasses to our table saying, This is on the house. Would you like me to open it?

Please, I said.

BJ and I made a toast, I to her, and her to me. I wiped the tears of joy from her cheeks, leaned over and kissed her gently, whispering in her ear, I wish this to never end.

With our meals finished, it was time for us to head to the spa. The drive took less than an hour. When we got to the casino, I picked up the key from a jubilant young lady wishing me a pleasant stay. Driving down to the villa, BJ said that all the grounds were superbly taken care of with all the flowers in bloom and the grass mown into a diamond shape.

Unlocking the door, BJ ran to the sliding glass doors and opened them, revealing a picture-perfect view of the golf course next door. That also revealed our small fenced-in yard with its waterfall and Jacuzzi for our private relaxation. On the dining room table was a basket of fruit and a chilled bottle of pinot. The note next to the fruit basket read Welcome back, Mr. Garrison.

We decided to relax in the garden and enjoy the Jacuzzi. The water was perfect and so was the pinot. We drifted away in each other’s arms. Before we knew it an hour had passed.

It was now closer to sixty thirty. I mentioned to BJ, There’s a great Italian restaurant just down the street that I love.

In our rush to enjoy the Jacuzzi we forgot the towels and with only our street clothes that we didn’t want to get wet, we made a mad dash up the stairs to the sliding glass doors, hoping no one saw us streaking.

Within a few minutes, we were ready and out the door.

Chapter 4

The next day at the spa was even more relaxing. After a couple’s massage, we went to the bar with only our lush spa robes on and had a few glasses of wine listening to the jazz guitarist. At intermission, he approached BJ and me.

Pardon the interruption, folks. But you look so familiar, he said to me. Have you ever played in a band?

Why, yes, I have, I told him. A long time ago before I joined the service, a couple of buddies from high school and I formed a rock band.

The guitarist laughed. No way! Are you from Boston?

I am! I exclaimed. Are you?

He introduced himself and told me where he’d grown up. Once he said his name, I immediately remembered him. It was like family all sitting around singing and just being ourselves.

Walking back to the villa, BJ’s head was on my shoulder when she again brought up the heavy set man that had followed me home the night I had dinner with Stan and that he was possibly the same man at the Bay Club looking into the side window of the Corvette.

BJ said, This weekend has given me a deeper insight as to who you really are and I like what I see. But we’ve been together for a year and there’s still so much I don’t know about you. I want to hear more about this term paper you wrote.

I picked up her hand and squeezed it. I love that you’re so interested in my life. But this started a long time ago. Are you sure you want to hear it?

I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, she said, grinning.

"Well, you know I was stationed in Savannah when I was in the Air Force. I was taking classes there and although I loved serving my country, continuing my education was also important to me. So, one day after my shift had ended, I went to the base library and looked for books on government structures, local as well as national. As luck may have it, I found myself in the same aisle as a gentleman and we started talking about what I was working on.

He introduced himself as Professor Gillian Daniels. I teach National Government here on base at Savannah State University, he told me. You’re welcome to sit in on my class.

I took Professor Daniels up on his offer and signed up for the course. He and I had many discussions about the assassination of President Kennedy and how the government was in a state of, well, let’s say, flux in its aftermath.

"I started to write down my thoughts about our present government structure and how I believed the way our government should work to protect its people. Not only from assassinations, but from internal breakdowns.

I saw the two-party system had serious flaws and could be easily controlled by one party. I believe a misguided party could redirect the country away from its founding fathers’ intentions.

Wow, Sam, BJ interrupted. I had no idea you were so passionate about politics and the government. Please continue.

"After many weeks of working on it, I presented Professor Daniels my term paper showing my hypothetical third party’s role in strengthening our system of government, so as to give more power back to the people. Even though our masses are mixed and complex, I could not see how our two-party system was not addressing issues of the citizens. My idea was to inject a third party that would act as the negotiator between the two parties and provide for our citizenry what was intended by Thomas Jefferson in his writing of the Declaration of Independence. Also, my intent was to point out Alexander Hamilton’s true interpretation of the US Constitution. The third party would be the watchful eye protecting the people from a rogue or runaway government.

When the layers of the two-party system were stripped away, you could see the inadequacies and the injustices that could be bestowed on the American people. The democrats played to aid working class men and women overcome inequality, while the Republican Party supposedly was against the working class and for the business class or entrepreneurs. This was truly the furthest from the truth as pointed out in our history books.

So what was the end result? BJ asked.

BJ was sweet to show