Apocalypse Drift Read Online Free PDF Page B

legs in the process. His campaign manager had secured a small space at a nearby hotel and arranged for the new representative’s staff to move in. For a January day, the weather in Washington was actually quite mild, so the Texan set off, eating up the distance with long strides over the concrete sidewalks of the nation’s capital.
    Reed’s desire to be a member of the federal government was, in truth, motivated by vendetta. His father had been a small town banker, honest and respected by the community. Reed had been practicing his jump shot when the older Wallace received a call, offering him a position at the Federal Reserve Bank. The compensation package easily outdistanced anything the local community bank could promise; it was the proverbial offer that he just couldn’t refuse.
    Everything had gone well for four years, with Mr. Wallace being promoted every so often and generally enjoying his work. A pre-law student, Reed was in his junior year at The University of Texas when his father called that fateful day.
    In retrospect, Reed could easily recognize there were so many things wrong with the conversation that day; he was a little ashamed it hadn’t dawned on him at the time. He remembered his father’s tone was troubled, the cadence of his words rushed. “Reed, I’m driving to Austin. I need to talk to someone about this. Can you skip a class and meet me?”
    Reed, puzzled by the unprecedented visit, agreed. He was concerned something was wrong between his mom and dad.
    His dad’s journey fell short of the capital city. The next morning, the family Volvo was spotted in a truck stop parking lot, his father slumped slightly over the steering wheel. Blood trickled from his temple, and his wallet was missing.
    The police wrote it off as a robbery, and eventually Reed accepted that conclusion as well. After his father was buried, the family and community mourned the loss for weeks. Reed eventually returned to school, graduating summa cum laude. Three weeks before commencement, he was recruited by a small, but growing law firm in Plano.
    Over the years, the pain from his father’s murder faded, but his memory of the man never did. Reed married, had children of his own, and lived the lifestyle of a successful man. There was little stress in his life until he met Mr. Agile.
    It was a sizzling mid-June morning when the consultation was calendared with a prospective client. With the economic troubles hindering the nation, Reed’s firm had seen a spike in business. It seemed like every contract, purchase, lease, or other corporate transaction was being scrutinized to an extreme level these days. No executive officer of any company wanted to risk a deal going south or a surprise clause adding unanticipated expense later on.
    Reed strolled into the conference room that day expecting another review of a real estate lease or tax issue. Mr. Agile desired no such services from the firm.
    As he walked through the streets of Washington, Reed replayed the entire meeting in his head.
    Mr. Agile was a very old man, at least 80, if not 90 years of age. He wore a dated wool suit that might have seemed vintage were it not for the necktie, poorly knotted and sporting a stain beneath the Masonic Lodge pin. The older man struggled a little, finally settling in the upholstered chair. Before Reed could even begin the meeting, Mr. Agile was racked with a coughing fit, producing a faded handkerchief to cover his mouth.
    “How can I help you, sir?” Reed opened.
    Mr. Agile studied the lawyer for some time before speaking. “I can tell just by the resemblance, but I have to ask to be sure. Are you Laurence Wallace’s son?”
    Reed’s first thought was Mr. Agile was an old friend of his father’s. Perhaps this man had sought out Reed’s firm, wanting legal help from the son of an old family acquaintance – it wouldn’t be the first time.
    “Yes, I am. How did you know my father?”
    Mr. Agile pondered his answer for a moment and then