No Corner to Hide (The Max Masterson Series Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Mark E Becker
world.
“Our friends and trading partners will benefit from peaceful alliances with the United States of America, and our enemies will be deprived of the benefits of doing business with us. During my time in office, I believe that I can transform the country from a consumer society to a productive economy. We will restore our standard of living,” said Max.
“For now, we are bound to debt through dependence on foreign oil and products built with technology stolen from our ingenuity. I believe this. I see it happening, and I don’t like it. There are others who don’t share that belief.” He shifted impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“I can’t sit idly by and watch as America gets lazy and soft, while the rest of the world out-competes us,” Max continued, still fidgeting. He had sat still for as long as he could without doing something. It made for short meetings, but it was annoying to Scarlett, who thrived on committee hearings that went on for hours. She didn’t fidget. Max was at his best when he could dive into a problem, devise a course of action, and go for it without prolonged deliberation.
In Max’s campaign, he only owed allegiance to the legacy of his long-departed father, Senator John Masterson, who had left him more money than he could ever spend, and to the American people, who had given him their votes. Masterson and Conroy had won the presidency with 80% of the popular vote, a landslide by anyone’s account.
Setting the folder aside, he turned his attention to his iPad, and he accessed the confidential information that had been prepared for his transition team from the nameless bureaucrats that had provided invisible support for previous incoming administrations.
Like most social gatherings, people tended to congregate in the kitchen. Various staffers sauntered in and out, but they left Max and Scarlett deep in conversation without interruption, assuming that the affairs of government were being crafted by the two individuals who were best suited for the job. After all, the people did elect them.
“You know that we aren’t supposed to be together,” Max said. “What if some psychotic terrorist is evil enough to predict when we’re in the same spot, and they make history? We are going to have to be really sneaky.”
Scarlett Conroy was unphased. Unlike Max, she was a politician first and foremost, and her years in public office had taught her to be cautious. Cautious meant safe, but she was not one to obsess about the unknown.
“That’s why we have the Secret Service, the CIA, the NSA, three branches of the military, and Homeland Security to protect us,” she countered. “With you in office, they may as well paint a bullseye on your forehead and toss you out on the street for target practice, but I am not going to sit around worrying about it. We have a country to run.” Scarlett had shifted from the news to an online search centered on the duties of the Vice-President.
“You know, Max, at the start of our nation’s history, vicepresidents weren’t running mates, they were runners-up. So the president and the vice-president were political enemies from rival parties who probably hated each other. My friends would have been gunning for you, not some terrorist.” She chuckled at the thought. “Here’s a quote from Will Rogers that I know you’ll like,” she teased. “The man with the best job in this country is the vice-president. All he has to do is get up every morning and say, ’How is the president?’”
Max smiled at the thought and responded. “Scarlett, if you want to be the first woman in the Oval Office to legitimately sit behind Jack Kennedy’s desk, I respectfully request that you wait until the voters put you there…after I have completed my second term.” He smirked, and both of them broke out in laughter. Scarlett was content, for the moment, being vice-president, and Max had delegated to her most of the politicking and social functions of
“Our friends and trading partners will benefit from peaceful alliances with the United States of America, and our enemies will be deprived of the benefits of doing business with us. During my time in office, I believe that I can transform the country from a consumer society to a productive economy. We will restore our standard of living,” said Max.
“For now, we are bound to debt through dependence on foreign oil and products built with technology stolen from our ingenuity. I believe this. I see it happening, and I don’t like it. There are others who don’t share that belief.” He shifted impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“I can’t sit idly by and watch as America gets lazy and soft, while the rest of the world out-competes us,” Max continued, still fidgeting. He had sat still for as long as he could without doing something. It made for short meetings, but it was annoying to Scarlett, who thrived on committee hearings that went on for hours. She didn’t fidget. Max was at his best when he could dive into a problem, devise a course of action, and go for it without prolonged deliberation.
In Max’s campaign, he only owed allegiance to the legacy of his long-departed father, Senator John Masterson, who had left him more money than he could ever spend, and to the American people, who had given him their votes. Masterson and Conroy had won the presidency with 80% of the popular vote, a landslide by anyone’s account.
Setting the folder aside, he turned his attention to his iPad, and he accessed the confidential information that had been prepared for his transition team from the nameless bureaucrats that had provided invisible support for previous incoming administrations.
Like most social gatherings, people tended to congregate in the kitchen. Various staffers sauntered in and out, but they left Max and Scarlett deep in conversation without interruption, assuming that the affairs of government were being crafted by the two individuals who were best suited for the job. After all, the people did elect them.
“You know that we aren’t supposed to be together,” Max said. “What if some psychotic terrorist is evil enough to predict when we’re in the same spot, and they make history? We are going to have to be really sneaky.”
Scarlett Conroy was unphased. Unlike Max, she was a politician first and foremost, and her years in public office had taught her to be cautious. Cautious meant safe, but she was not one to obsess about the unknown.
“That’s why we have the Secret Service, the CIA, the NSA, three branches of the military, and Homeland Security to protect us,” she countered. “With you in office, they may as well paint a bullseye on your forehead and toss you out on the street for target practice, but I am not going to sit around worrying about it. We have a country to run.” Scarlett had shifted from the news to an online search centered on the duties of the Vice-President.
“You know, Max, at the start of our nation’s history, vicepresidents weren’t running mates, they were runners-up. So the president and the vice-president were political enemies from rival parties who probably hated each other. My friends would have been gunning for you, not some terrorist.” She chuckled at the thought. “Here’s a quote from Will Rogers that I know you’ll like,” she teased. “The man with the best job in this country is the vice-president. All he has to do is get up every morning and say, ’How is the president?’”
Max smiled at the thought and responded. “Scarlett, if you want to be the first woman in the Oval Office to legitimately sit behind Jack Kennedy’s desk, I respectfully request that you wait until the voters put you there…after I have completed my second term.” He smirked, and both of them broke out in laughter. Scarlett was content, for the moment, being vice-president, and Max had delegated to her most of the politicking and social functions of
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