Chapter 14: A Plan Comes Together

The whole affair with the leftist-leaning reporter hoping to snag the story of a lifetime and the dust up I had with Karen put my week out of whack. Finally resolving both, I was able to get my life back into a somewhat sane routine.

I divided my time between the classroom and the library. If I was not in one, I was in the other. During my time in the library, I researched everything the university library had on Senator Stuart and his close allies. There were a few political magazine articles that documented who his political allies were—lobbyists and members of Congress. Senator Stuart’s scheming had him involved in multiple political affairs, the articles noted. The senator had close ties with many politicians, lobbyists, and DC insiders. Still, I found him to be very simple, driven by exactly one thing: greed. Exactly where I planned to attack to take advantage of his weak point.

I then researched how lobbyists worked within the system. I learned what was legal, what was illegal, and what passed when others looked the other way. The practice of lobbying is to persuade a politician or a decision-maker to vote or act in a manner that benefits the interests the lobbyist represents. One author defined lobbying as the ethics and morals involved in the legal bribing of a politician or decision-maker. They were correct. The lobbyist has to follow a very precise set of guidelines to stay on this side of the law. Anything and everything, be it a “fact-finding trip” booked at a luxury resort or a meal at an upscale restaurant where your dining companion finds you “interesting,” is legal. As long as it fits with the acceptable practices of Washington, DC, anything goes.

The second thing I learned about Senator Stuart was that he enjoyed eating at upscale restaurants accompanied by young dinner companions. The senator was “happily” married to the same woman for over thirty years. He was regularly seen in the company of young female associate lobbyists at DC events, though. This was another weakness of the senator I discovered. Greed was acceptable to most voters as one of the rewards of the office. A politician caught in a situation of questionable circumstances was the kiss of death to one’s political career. Many politicians caught in an embarrassing situation with a young woman who was not their spouse often suffered the wrath of the voters back home. While it may play in Washington, it did not sit well with your constituents.

It was the senator’s greed and his lust for younger women that would be his downfall. Now it was time to plan “Operation Revenge Is a Bitch.”

That night at supper, I told Karen and Grandma Jorgenson what I had been researching at the university library, planning to use it against Senator Stuart. I also informed them to expect Andi and Randy to be in this weekend to help plan what we called “Operation Revenge Is a Bitch.”

When asked who came up with the name, I said that Randy had. I then remembered what Randy had said about being single, wanting to get out of the Special Forces, and starting a family. I mentioned this to Karen’s grandma; I saw that twitch in her face—almost a facial tick—when she went into matchmaker mode. It was humorous to watch the transition. It was also something to keep her busy and out of mischief while Andi and Randy were here. Now, how to address the subject of Andi with Karen was another matter. I desperately needed to develop a plan before Andi arrived. I hoped I had plenty of time to address it before they arrived on Friday evening.

I was trying to think of a cute way of introducing the two, none of which seemed to be a good idea. There was, “Karen, this is Andi, the other blonde I slept with.” I ruled that one out rather quickly, as I was sure that would earn me a trip to the ICU. Then there was, “Karen, this is Andi, the other woman I have feelings for.” Nope, that would not work either; it would result in the same outcome as my first idea. I decided to give up on being cute and just introduce her as Andi, my teammate. I depended on her and Randy to come back to you. That seemed a safer choice and would keep me from getting my ass pounded by two very pissed-off blonds.

The next morning, after teaching my classes for the day, I called Lawrence and asked him about sting operations. I wanted to get the perspective of law enforcement on sting operations. If done properly, there are no charges of entrapment alleged against the FBI. I do have to say it was enlightening. In order to work legally, the bad guy had to be the one making the decision to commit the illegal act. The sting only provided the opportunity for the perpetrator to act in a criminal manner. In committing the criminal act, the perpetrator is responsible for the criminal act. That would be how “Operation Revenge Is a Bitch” would play out: if the good senator acted as we hoped, his political career would be over, he would be charged with a criminal act, and he would be living in disgrace.

After the good senator, there was only one other person who deserved payback from the team. That would be our good friend Mike, who, after he left us for the Soviets, disappeared in the United Kingdom. That one I was really looking forward to seeing.

On Friday evening, Andi and Randy’s flights arrived almost at the same time. We agreed to meet just outside of the baggage claim area. Karen insisted on coming with me. I was sure she was there to protect her interests. Anyway, she stood next to me, holding tightly to my arm. The first one to show was Randy. I noticed that his hair was a bit longer than it had been on the mission. I was wondering if he had been successful in getting the separation he was wanting.

Randy, looking around, finally saw me, waved, and smiled. Karen was slightly behind me, partially hidden from Randy’s view. It was funny to see his reaction to Karen; he did a double take at first, replaced by an ear-to-ear smile. I could see he was appreciative of a beautiful woman. When he got over to us, he had his hand out, expecting a handshake, but I gave him a manly hug instead. After what we went through, he was more than just a friend. We were brothers of different parents. I felt that without him along, Andi and I would have never made it out. In my estimation, he was the perfect example of the special operation’s operator.

After our man hug, Randy said, “Doc, it is so good to see you again.”

Looking over at Karen, he laughed and said, “You were correct in calling her your Viking Princess; she is what I would expect one to look like. Any more at home like this one?”

I thought to myself, “Boy, are you going to wish you never said that? Once Karen tells Grandma Jorgenson, you said that. She will have you married off to another cousin before you can say target acquisition.”

“I am Karen, by the way. Thank you for the compliment, and I know someone who will help you find your own princess,” said Karen with a smile.

Randy looked at her oddly, not knowing what she meant. He then looked over at me, and I just smiled.

“Come here; let me give you a hug for those kind words. It’s nice to be appreciated once in a while,” Karen commented. She then gathered Randy into a full-body hug and squeezed tight.

Randy did not know how to react to the hug. I think he thought I would be upset, or at least mildly perturbed. I did not respond to the hug because I know Karen. She did it to get my goat. I did not react, so she got hers instead of mine. I saw the look of annoyance on her face. I just smiled back at her.

I heard a squeal and turned just in time to take a full frontal assault along with Randy when Andi grabbed us into a group hug. If Karen was perturbed before, she was furious then. This was going to get ugly real quick if I could not defuse the situation in a hurry.

I needed not to worry; Andi was a master of assessing a situation and quickly moved it from Def Con 2 back to a guarded Def Con 4. She looked at Karen, smiled, and held out her arms. That confused Karen for a minute.

“Doc, you are right; she is a Viking princess; none of us other women would stand a chance at you with her at your side. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met,” Andi said with sincerity.

The hard look Karen had for a few seconds softened a bit. I thought I even detected the beginning of a smile on her face.

“Karen, right? You are the reason I was able to come home and be standing here right now. You were the reason Doc was able to bring us home. All he ever said while we were evading the Soviets was that he had to get home to you.” Andi said it with a tear in her eye.

Karen went from a total Berserker Viking Princess to a marshmallow Viking Princess in the blink of an eye. She strode over and took Andi in a hug, and I thought both were going to break down. Karen had her back to me, holding onto Andi for dear life, sniffling. Andi looked over at me, winking, and grinned a sly grin.

I almost hit the floor at Andi’s feet, saying, “I’m not worthy!” I have never seen anyone who could manipulate another person as fast as Andi. She was a master of persuasion; she had the black belt, the sensei, and I was the student at the lowest level.

Karen and Andi walked arm in arm all the way to the VW bus, the only vehicle I owned that had room. Occasionally one or the other would look over at me and then grin, and then they were back at it, talking in low tones and giggling.

Every once in a while, one would say, “Oh no, he didn’t.” Then they would both look over at me and then continue with the jabbering.

Once I heard Andi say, “in my underwear.” I suddenly remembered the incident and immediately felt extremely ill, wanting to run away. I looked over at the two, and Karen was giving me the stink eye. I was, oh, so dead. Lord, kill me now; make it quick and painless, because when Karen got me alone, I would die the death of a thousand barbs.

On the way back to the town house, where Grandma Jorgenson was busy preparing a supper for us, Karen and Andi sat together in the back. Randy joined me up front. The whole way home, no one said a word. There was no need for AC; Karen was doing a great job cooling down the VW by herself.

With the Friday evening traffic, it took us almost an hour to get home. I stopped the bus up near the house since we would be taking them to their hotel later that evening. Randy opened the side sliding door and helped Karen and Andi out. Karen led the way with Andi right behind her, and then came Randy as I brought up the rear. When Karen opened the door, the smells from the kitchen came out. It smelled heavenly—a fine last meal for the condemned man.

Grandma Jorgenson was in the kitchen as we walked in. I let Karen make the introductions, and she mentioned to Grandma Jorgenson, almost as an aside, that Randy wanted to start a family and needed Grandma Jorgenson’s talents as a matchmaker. If Grandma Jorgenson had been a pooch, her tail would have been drumming out a cadence on the cabinet front where she was standing. She was almost quivering in anticipation of helping Randy on his way toward matrimony. She directed us to the table, and as always, the meal was perfection.

After supper was done, I had Randy and Andi go with me into the living room so we could discuss what I had found out. Karen and her grandmother stayed in the kitchen to do dishes and give us privacy, so we could talk undisturbed.

We were just beginning to throw out ideas on how to deal with the Senator when I heard from the kitchen, “Oh, he did not; what is wrong with him?” I was, oh, so dead, or at least condemned to cold cereal and instant coffee at breakfast.

It was an hour later when Grandma Jorgenson brought in a serving tray with cups of coffee and her homemade cookies. She turned to leave, but not before she gave me her look of disapproval. It was impossible for our guests not to see the look, but they were polite enough not to mention it.

Almost two hours later, everyone was on fumes and in dire need of rest. It was by mutual consent; we adjourned for the evening and would take up where we left off in the morning. Karen must have been on the other side of the archway between the living room and the kitchen. As soon as we agreed to adjourn, she was right there, ready to ride along to the motel.

As in the previous ride, Karen sat with Andi in back. Randy was almost asleep on his feet by now. I saw his head nod a couple of times during the fifteen-minute ride to the motel. We all got out of the motel, and I helped unload. Andi and Randy were ahead of us, and Karen was beside me when we entered the motel. I was along in case there was some problem with checking in. After Andi and Randy had registered and gotten their room keys, we said our goodbyes. Karen and I went back to the bus for the ride home, and Andi and Randy went to the rooms, hopefully for a restful night.

Karen did not say one word the entire trip home. It was fifteen minutes of stone-cold silence. I was in deep doodoo again. I was surprised Andi had even said anything to Karen about the Russian mission. I felt betrayed; maybe we were not as good friends as I thought.

Arriving home and getting ready for bed was a continuation of the silent treatment. Fortunately, I slept in the bed and did not have to go to the inn. When I went for my usual good-night kiss, Karen turned her back to me and made it clear I was not to bother her. I gave up, rolled over, and went to sleep.

At 3:32 a.m., I woke up in a sweat with my heart pounding in my chest. I just had the worst nightmare I can ever recall having. Senator Stuart was sitting on a high-backed chair situated on a platform. My Karen was sprawled at his feet as if she were his pet. She was obviously enjoying his attention as he played with her hair. I was trussed up, lying on the floor, watching in horror what was occurring before my eyes. Mike stood over me as my tormentor, making sure I kept watching as the Senator was caressing my wife. It was horrible.

It was a scene right out of a James Bond movie. The Senator was my Blofeld, and Karen was suffering the same fate as so many other Bond girls had. Except I was not James Bond; I was just a college mathematics professor who had no idea what he was doing. This was madness on my part; I should stop this foolishness now and let the professionals handle it. People who had the skills needed to do it, like Andi and Randy, We had been lucky with the Soviet mission.

It took me almost an hour to get my heart rate down and the pounding in my chest to go away. The rest of the night was fit for me. I would fall asleep, wake up, and fall asleep again. I doubt if I slept any longer than an hour during any of those periods.

I woke up at 7 a.m. instead of my usual 5:30 a.m. After taking a shower and dressing, I went downstairs to an empty kitchen. There was no warm breakfast or Grandma Jorgenson waiting for me. I guess I was in the doghouse with her too. Breakfast for me was cold, stale cornflakes and instant coffee. I hope that the rest of the team will want to stop somewhere to grab something substantial.

On the way to the motel, I had a come-to-Jesus moment with myself. Fate had as much to do with the team’s success on the Russian mission as anything else. If you do not believe in fate, then pure dumb luck and the skills Randy and Andi brought to the mission had more influence on the mission than anything else did. They were the ones who had the skills needed to infiltrate the computer center.

Randy knew how to handle communications and had combat skills. Andi was the language expert that got us past the security. My contribution compared to theirs was insignificant; all I did was look at some printed graphs and number matrices and give an educated guess. I knew the data printed on the paper we took with us as well as stored on the floppy disks would contain. It did not take a computer scientist to look at the collection of small personal computers and see that the whole operation was primitive compared to the systems the USA had. It was simple and easy to work with. The Russians followed the old KISS principle, “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” It was simple, and it worked. Therefore, my part was small compared to the contributions of the others.

I had let my inflated ego take over; I listened to my own press and believed what others were saying. In my head, I was a master spy like James Bond. Hah! I was nothing more than a college professor who happened to survive a dangerous situation. I realize that now. I would do my part and leave the operation planning and execution to the professionals from now on.

When I got to the motel, I found Randy and Andi finishing a continental breakfast the motel had for its guests. The breakfast bar looked good, and I was envious. I thought about my cold and stale cereal breakfast and compared it to the warming trays of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and bagels. A Belgian waffle maker where guests could make their own waffles was on the buffet table. It made me almost want to cry. When they finished up, they followed me out to the VW bus. We headed to where I knew we would not be disturbed and could concentrate on the task. We went to where I did my best thinking, my special place in Washington Park underneath my tree.

It was a short drive from the motel to the park, and when we parked near the lake, the others got out when I did and followed me over to my place under the tree. I sat down, and the others followed my lead and sat down as well. They looked around for a while, taking in the scenery around us.

“Why are we here, Doc?” asked Randy. “This is a nice place, but why did you bring us here?”

“Looking out over the lake is relaxing and makes one forget they are in the middle of a large city. So why are we here?” added Andi.

“My friends, this is my thinking place. It is here where I come to do most of my serious thinking and to relax during stressful times. This place holds many good and bad memories for me. It allows me to balance my inner self.” I replied.

“It is nice to show this to us, but why are we here?” Randy again asked.

“This is the only place I could think of where we can talk openly and not worry about being overheard. I do not want others to be involved in the planning. When I say others, I mean Karen and her grandmother. They have a tendency to get involved where they shouldn’t.” I added.

This caused Andy and Randy to chuckle.

“Before we get started on what you have come for, I wanted to give you a little background on this spot.” I said. “This tree where we are sitting was discovered on one of my motorcycle rides. I was looking for an isolated location where I could relax. I found that being in the woods and looking out over a lake has a calming effect.”

“I have to agree with you there, Doc,” Randy said, looking around. “It is really peaceful here. And those trees over there help block out the noise from the traffic.”

“It is like you said, James, yet I sense this place holds a lot more for you than just a place to come to meditate. Not a lot of it holds a pleasant memory for you,” Andi said with some uneasiness.

“Another time, Andi,” I said, a bit taken back. “Right now, we need to concentrate on how we should respond to the senator’s attempt at revenge.”

We got right to the problem at hand. First, I gave them what I was able to gather from researching the Senator Stuart’s background and his weaknesses, as I was able to find from published reports and official records. This led to a discussion of how we could use his weaknesses, namely greed and fondness of young female company. The discussion led to several ideas, which we rejected as to being too difficult to pull off or would lead directly back to us.

We were not making much progress so we decided to take a break and head back to my house to see if we beg a lunch off Grandma Jorgenson. If not, then we would go to one of the many fast food places that always surround a college campus.

As we were getting into the VW bus Andi commented, “I get a whole different vibe from here near the bus; something terrible happened here, it is if evil is tethered here for eternity.”

Andi freaked me out with her comment. I guess my face showed my response, and the others were concerned. I just passed it off as low blood sugar because I needed to get some food in me. That was too creepy. I had parked the VW bus almost where Ginny B had died.

I drove off, heading for home and hopefully a lunch prepared by Grandma Jorgenson. She did not disappoint me, as I could smell her chili from the drive with just the right amount of spices to make it interesting. Grandma had outdone herself; she made her breaded onion rings and coleslaw. The coleslaw worked wonders, turning off the heat from the chili. If Karen and I ever split, I would fight to get custody of Grandma Jorgenson. I loved that old lady that much; make it her cooking that much.

During lunch, Grandma Jorgenson went on the attack and was relentless in asking Randy about what he wanted in a spouse. I kept praying, Please do not let it be Sadie. Please do not let it be Sadie. Randy was too good of a guy to be saddled with her.

As always, lunch by Grandma Jorgenson was a foodie masterpiece. The homemade brownie with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream on top was almost too much, and we all moaned our appreciation.

After we ate, we decided to go back to the park and plan how to deal with the good senator. We all agreed his two weaknesses—grace and younger women—would be his downfall. For the next several hours, we worked to develop a master plan to bring about his downfall. The first thing we agreed upon was that I could not be part of the plan, or he would never go for it. I would be an active planner and help with the logistics.

The longer we were at it, the more we were all concerned that this sort of thing was totally out of our comfort zone. I decided we needed to call in the experts, and the others agreed.

We drove over to the campus, a short ten-minute drive from Washington Park, and made a call to my friend Lawrence Foster, an FBI agent. If anyone knew how to do something like this, he would. Since it was Saturday and he was not in the office, he agreed to meet with us in the park. While we waited, I gave my friends a tour of the campus where I worked. An hour later, we drove back to my hangout and found Lawrence waiting for us. I made the introductions all around, and I was glad to see everyone seemed to fit right in.

“What do you have planned out for Senator Stuart?” asked Lawrence. “Knowing you, James, it is a humdinger.”

“I hate to disappoint, but we have nothing so far,” I answered back. “We have narrowed it down to his two weaknesses, greed and young women. I think that would be a deadly combination for his political career.”

“That’s a good start.” Lawrence said.

“I would love to add betraying his country by exposing a critical intelligence gathering mission and jeopardizing the lives of the intelligence operatives and their families. After all, he would have put me and my family in harm’s way not to mention Randy and Andi here.”

“Yeah,” said Randy. “That SOB needs to pay for his betrayal, not to mention the earlier transgressions Doc dug up in his investigation of the old fool.”

“I have to agree with what the Doc and Randy have said,” Andi commented. “He needs to be humiliated and prosecuted for his illegal activities.”

That afternoon, Operation Revenge Is a Bitch officially began with Lawrence explaining to us what resources the FBI could bring to the table that led to the fall of the arrogant politician. There had to be no doubt the Senator acted in a criminal manner; his intentions were clearly documented and provable. I noted that the Senator had relationships with several lobbyists and that they kept him well supplied with money and younger “dining companions.”.