Boston Blood: The first Frank McKenzie Thriller by Luis Samways Page B

six
    ‘It was risky coming down here Frank. They have an APB out on you, things could have gotten bad if any one radioed in your name. You would have gone up like a Christmas tree and then what?’ Jacob Asks McKenzie while pouring himself a cup of coffee.
    Frank is sitting down on a chair facing Jacob’s official looking office desk. He looks around the room and notices the large paintings of Jacob on the wall, like a stately home would have back in the eighteen hundreds. He thinks to himself. Asks himself one question, why so much grandeur? Frank has come across a lot of people in the political game in his career. All of them share the same characteristics when it comes to life style. Cut from the poor, give to the rich. Most media like to portray certain politicians as “for the people” but a lot of them don’t take into account the huge expenses these men and women take while furnishing their buildings, dressing their selves up for functions and driving limos to the airport while hopping on to private jets for globetrotting.
    ‘Nice office Jacob’ Frank remarks.
    Jacob looks around the office trying to figure out if Frank was being a smart ass or the latter.
    ‘Thanks’ He replies.
    ‘It’s very stately wouldn’t you say?’ Says Frank
    ‘Yeah, you’re probably right there. It does its job though.’ 
    Frank shakes his head in disappointment while lighting a cigarette up, his second cigarette in twenty minutes.
    ‘Tell me something Jacob. Why do you need all those pictures of yourself in the office? Do you forget what you look like or something? Surely a mirror would do the job just fine. No need for portraits of yourself. It’s just my opinion.’
    Jacob nods in agreement, sipping his coffee examining Frank’s question with his eyes.
    ‘It is what it is Frank. I’m a successful man in my field. For all my hard work I get certain perks, that’s life, heck that’s my life! Is it wrong that I enjoy a certain level of success that most people do not reach? No, it’s not. Is it wrong that the government wants to cut your pensions despite your hard work for the state? Yes. Do I give a rat’s ass right about now? No. You’re here to discuss our agreement not my life style.’
    Frank’s face is alight with anger, its shows. He gets up and stretches, while smoking his cigarette silently as if he was putting an exclamation mark on his opinion.
    ‘You know what Jacob’ Frank says abruptly while exhaling.
    ‘What Frank?’
    ‘You’re right let’s just get on with this. So how are you getting me the gear that I need?’
    Jacob gets up from his seat and paces the width of his desk while looking at Frank cautiously.
    ‘There is no gear Frank. You can’t just expect me to magic what you need out of my ass. That’s not how it works. You need to give me time.’
    Frank dismisses Jacob’s remark with a swatting motion of his hand.
    ‘Don’t give me that shit Jacob. Why the hell did you agree to me coming down here if you were not prepared to help me out?’
    ‘I would have thought that you would have worked it out by now Frank, being the detective and all’
    Frank slams his fist on Jacobs’s desk to emphasize his anger.
    ‘Don’t Bullshit me Jacob!’
    ‘Look Frank I’m sorry but I’m the damn Defence Minister to the United States Government. This job means more to me then getting paid. It’s a position that I have worked my way up to since leaving the Marine Core seven years ago. I’m a black man doing a white man’s Job. We may not get another black President any time soon, but I can assure you that if we do, I’m going to be the next one. I can’t be risking my career let alone my freedom helping a fugitive break into the M.I.T research building and kill someone on a personal revenge trip, even if that person happens to be my best friend and former bunk mate at the core. Sorry Frank.’
    Jacob exhales deeply and pats his pockets down. He reaches into his inner suit and takes a cigarette