Bloodland: A Novel by Alan Glynn Read Free Book Online Page A

Supremacy. How brothers Senator John Rundle and BRX chairman Clark Rundle are taking on the world … and winning.
    He reads this over a couple of times and nods, as though in agreement with someone sitting in front of him. He then lifts the magazine and gives a preliminary riffle through its glossy, scented pages, catching a rush of images, ads mostly, promissory shards of the erotic and the streamlined.
    Perfume, watches, banks, celebs, real estate porn.
    He looks up and out of the window for a moment. Traffic is light and flowing easily. They’ll be at the Orpheus Room sooner than he expected.
    He goes back to the magazine and quickly locates the article.
    It opens with a two-page spread of photos, some colour, some black and white – he and J.J. at various stages in their lives, together and apart … grainy images, weird clothes and, of course, hair , from the seventies, suits thereafter, and less hair … J.J. with Karl Rove, J.J. on Meet the Press  … Clark looking inscrutable at some charity ball, Clark in the cabin of his G-V.
    He scans the text.
    It actually is something of a puff piece – the Rundle brothers, John, 50, and Clark, 48, sons of the legendary Henry C. Rundle, each on a trajectory to stellar success, one in politics, setting his sights on the White House, and the other in business, steering long-held family concern, mining and engineering giant BRX, to global domination. The ‘narrative’ in the article is how close the brothers are, no sibling rivalry, just mutual support, the kind of bond you’d expect from identical twins sort of thing, with anecdotes emanating from the usual sources, how J.J. ceded control of his part of the company to Clark against all legal advice, and how Clark chose to withdraw his name for consideration as commerce secretary under Bush so as not to steal J.J.’s thunder.
    He closes the magazine and puts it on the seat beside him.
    It’s strange reading about yourself. The material usually feels diluted and one-dimensional. By the same token there’s nothing in the article here he needs to call his lawyers about. It’s accurate enough, he supposes, and will achieve what it was intended to achieve – at least as far as J.J.’s press office is concerned – and that is to help pave the way for this possible nomination.
    Rundle wonders if J.J. has seen it yet. He’s on a foreign trip at the moment – doing Clark a favour, as it happens – so it’s unlikely.
    But then again the article is probably available online.
    In which case, knowing J.J., he’ll definitely have seen it.
    And will be in touch about it the first chance he gets.
    The limo pulls up outside the Orpheus Room on Fifty-fourth Street. Rundle waits for the driver to open the door and then gets out. As he straightens his jacket he glances at the passing traffic down a bit on Park and something occurs to him. It’s easy to forget this, but it’s true what was in the article. There is no rivalry between them, none, and they genuinely do root for each other. In taking BRX Mining & Engineering to new levels of success, Clark has remained largely anonymous, and that’s been fine. J.J. was always the attention-seeker anyway, the approval junkie. But if that’s what his brother wants, a shot at the presidency – which until now, being honest about it, Clark hasn’t really taken that seriously – then why not? And why shouldn’t Clark do everything in his considerable power to help make it happen?
    Add ‘kingmaker’ to his list of achievements.
    Stick it one more time to the old man.
    Fuck, yeah.
    He heads in under the sidewalk canopy.
    Realigning his headspace.
    Inside, Jimmy Vaughan is sitting at his regular table, nursing what looks like a fruit juice.
    Rundle approaches the table with his hand outstretched. ‘Jimmy, how are you?’
    Vaughan looks up. He shakes Rundle’s hand and indicates for him to sit down. ‘How am I? I’m eighty-two years old, Clark, what do you want me to tell