Track 31

“Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)”

1979

Call her naive, but it was Anna Kingston’s lifelong dream to change the world. End hunger, distribute wealth to the poor, and provide free education and healthcare for all—those were her primary objectives.

She thought going into politics would help her achieve that dream, where she could effect real change through the rule of law.

Anna was no fool—she knew that politics was not for the faint of heart. That compromises would need to be made. Values and ethics would be challenged. Truth would be bent. However, she had a strong sense of right and wrong. She vowed she would never be pressured to stray from the high road.

But that was before she started interning in the office of Senator Lewis Blake III.

Blake wasn’t her first choice. She would have preferred to work for Senator Janice Kilby. Still, Anna was a beggar, so she couldn’t be a chooser.

Like most people who worked for Blake, she rarely questioned him. To the outside world, he was a quiet achiever. Never hogging the limelight or courting controversy. Which, granted, was a good thing for someone who headed up a black-ops agency.

Blake did enough to make sure he was visible to his voters. If only his constituents knew he wasn’t “just” fighting for a better deal on their behalf.

No, he was up to far more than anyone dreamed.

Initially, she was terrified about working for him. And in fact, the feeling of terror never went away. She’d seen him “dispose of” staffers who displeased him, even for minor infractions. Yet no one ever had a bad word to say about him. Not willingly, anyway.

She sat in the chair opposite his, her mind reeling as she scribbled his latest orders. What he was dictating was way beyond the norm.

The desk between them was practically an island of mahogany. On it sat a framed picture of his devoted wife—the only personal item in the entire office. Behind him on a credenza was a crystal decanter half filled with brandy and a smaller bottle she’d never seen before. Its label was simple. Clinical-looking. Alongside it lay a case containing what looked very much like a syringe. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Did you hear what I said?” Blake said in a crisp voice.

Startled, she looked down at her shorthand notes. “Yes. Yes, sir. You want me to corroborate a witness statement.”

He slid a file across his desk. It was marked Washington, DC. UFO Sighting #62b.

Anna opened the file, read the introductory paragraphs, and felt a twang in her chest. This was a journey that would take her far down the low road. Yes, she knew lying was an art form in the realm of politics. But this was something beyond art.

It was pure evil.

She took a deep breath before speaking. “Sir, I’m just curious about why this needs to be d—”

“It’s not your job to be curious,” he barked.

Anna jumped. “Of course.”

“Have a draft on my desk by four o’clock,” he said, giving her a wave of dismissal from his office. “Then we’ll drip-feed it to the press pool tomorrow.”

As she crossed the room to the door, she mentally drafted her resignation letter.