Chapter Six A: Strategy

Pol Stamos and Alex Jasper faced off in Alex’s suite at the Sheraton South in Indianapolis. The tension was high. Pol had always acquiesced to Alex’s requests, or directions as her mentor. But today she had a new feeling of power in the knowledge that she was the leader of this mission, appointed by the architect. She felt stronger, more self-assured, and confident than ever in her life.

“All indications are that he is a risk,” Alex was saying. “You should stay as far away from him as possible. He will never blend in with your staff and there will be conflict from the beginning to the probably unfortunate end.” Alex looked the part of an eighteenth century barrister with his portly figure crammed into a three-piece pin-striped suit. The impeccable appearance was marred by a single chili bean that clung tenaciously to one lapel.

“Even if I agreed with your assessment,” Pol responded, “the recommendation is wrong. You taught me from the start to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. Either way he should be part of my team. Besides, Alex, he is just the type that we should have. He is suffering under destroyed dreams that we are trying to rebuild. If my purpose is to guide and inspire, he is exactly the type who will be led. This is strictly a matter of practicalities. Consider him my first test subject.”

“Inspiring and leading can’t be done one person at a time. You have to ask if he is aggressive enough to sell your ideas to thousands, no millions of others in order to make the dream a reality,” Alex argued. “The person in this position needs to multiply your followers with every word he writes.”

“I have asked myself that question and answered it. He is the one I want.” She pulled back the drape to look out at the weather. If it was snow in Fort Wayne, it was rain in Indianapolis. The weather had been catastrophic around the world this year, and Indiana had not been missed with a string of winter tornadoes that left destruction and death in their paths.

“In the old days we would have just made him disappear—a one-way ticket to the Bermuda Triangle,” Alex growled.

“We don’t do things that way anymore, Alex. And don’t you dare suggest it,” Pol turned on him. “If anything happens to him I’ll torpedo the whole operation and you can explain the scars to the architect.” Pol glared at Alex as if daring him to challenge her.

“Pol, Pol,” Alex was suddenly soothing. “Oh please, Pol. Don’t talk like that. That’s too horrible to think of. I’ll back off. I won’t criticize him to the architect, or you for wanting him. But please, don’t suggest that you’d rebel against us.” Alex was genuinely frightened of Pol’s threat. It was too horrid a prospect.

“Oh, Alex,” Pol said mollified. “You know I wouldn’t act against her best interests nor do anything to harm her. That was petulant and childish of me to say so. You just have to give me a little leaway now. I know now who I am and I have to feel my way into my responsibilities. You’ve trained me well, now let me do my job.”

“Okay, Pol,” Alex sighed. “I’ll back off. Just be careful. These things have a way of backfiring. I’ll be near enough to help if you call.”

“Thank you, dearie,” Pol said quietly. It was an endearment she’d used with Alex since she was just five. “You know I’m going to need a steady flow of information on the issues. I can’t be caught flat-footed in a press conference like I was last week on the channel-dredging issue.”

“Truly an accident,” Alex reassured her awkwardly. “I should have called.”

“I’ll make sure the staff knows to let your calls through right away. You won’t be delayed,” Pol assured him, “but you’ve got to come out in public as the favorite uncle sometime.”

“I don’t think I’ll dare for a few months,” Alex sighed. “You’ve just proposed hiring a genealogist on your staff. It wouldn’t take long for him to find out I’m not in your family tree. As far as official record go, I don’t exist.”

“I’ll be sure to keep him too busy to investigate,” Pol said, then abruptly changed the subject. “I need to be leaving to get to the speech. Nina should be here by now.” As if on cue the phone rang in the room and Pol picked it up. “I’m on my way,” she answered. She paused long enough to pat Alex kindly on the shoulder and smile at him, then picked up her coat and portfolio and left.

“Good luck,” Alex said after the door closed. “Good luck.”

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