April 4: A Different Perspective by Mackey Chandler Read Free Book Online Page B

his compact computer and time this evening to enjoy them.
    A firm knock on the door interrupted his immersion in the book. "House, unlock," he called and then realized it wouldn't do that here, like at home. It was a plain mechanical deadbolt on top. "Coming," he corrected and sat the computer aside on the bed.
    The pair in the hall were mid-thirties, in nice, but off the rack suits and the shoes screamed they were cops.
    "Hmm, not local, not military," he checked out the haircut and ties. "You boys gotta be Feds - probably FBI. Why don't ya come in and make yourselves at home?"
    "Thank you," the man seemed indifferent to his analysis. "You are correct. I'm Special Agent Pilato and this is agent Harriman." He offered ID and Otis made the gesture of really looking at it, since it seemed expected.
    "We'd like to ask you a few questions. Do you have any objection?"
    "No, not as long as you answer one of mine first. Am I a suspect in some criminal act? If so I'm afraid I'd have to lawyer up on general principles. If you have questions about third parties I have no problem talking to you."
    "Would you mind me seeing what you were reading when we came in?"
    "You're welcome to look at the item displayed. If you want to do a general search of my computer or phone I'll have to ask you to get a warrant. The comp has all sorts of private information about Security Associates and my boss would have my head if I just casually handed it over."
    The Special Agent nodded an acknowledgement and picked it up. Otis expected him to toss it back down after a few sentences, but he obviously read it all the way to the page end.
    "This is damn good stuff. Who's the author?" he asked.
    "Michael Z. Williamson, the novel is 'Better to Beg Forgiveness'."
    The lesser agent looked uncomfortable at this chatty exchange. Unlike the older agent, he'd looked pissed ever since Otis had ID'd them as Feebs.
    "Do you know why we came to speak with you?" he asked, probably out of turn.
    "Oh sure, President Wiggen is in town and I just flew all the way across the continent to be in the same city. I'm a shooter, an actual competent one. So that scares you guys. Hell of a shame the government needs to train people like me, it makes your job harder, but no way around it unless they go to all mercenaries instead of a citizen army."
    "Leaving aside the political tones of that you are correct. Can you tell us why you are in town and when you expect to leave?"
    "I'm here to sign a contract with Yani Cinema for security services. I work for Security Associates out of Atlanta and we signed the papers up this afternoon. My local man Keith  anderson drove me over there and dropped me off after. You can check with the studio people that I was there too. I might mention this was all arranged and we made reservations, before it was ever announced President Wiggen would be in town. If I'd known I'd have re-scheduled it for another week."
    "Why's that?" the Special Agent reasserted himself.
    "Because I don't like to fly back at night, but if I try to fly out in the morning I can get caught in all the jammed up traffic and flight delays from President Wiggen being in town. No telling if she'll leave early or late and I could get stuck sitting in the plane for five or six hours waiting to take off. We moved my flight up to tomorrow, so all that will be sorted out before I board."
    "And do you feel resentment over that, Mr. anderson?" the under agent asked.
    "Don't be a horse's ass." Otis told the younger man. "Of course I resent it. I won't play this childish game of any hint of dissatisfaction being the same as disloyalty. I served with officers who needed help to tie their shoes in the morning. I did my job and ignored what I couldn't fix. I swore an oath to protect the United States and its constitution. That didn't end just because I'm no longer active duty. I don't know Wiggen, but I'd do anything to protect her, or any other serving President, even if she irritates me. Shit,