Carter's Recourse - 24. Chapter 24

Andrew was like a shadow, an intimidating presence backing Will up as he walked through the throng of cameras each trying to throw a hail of questions at the MP. They were trying to get a grasp over what was happening, an idea from the only Liberal politician bold enough to show his face at Parliament Hill that Sunday.

Will stopped on one of the broad steps and looked about him at the cameras and microphones pointing at him, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sure you all have a great number of questions," he said, finding some of that inner fire that had gotten him elected; he wasn't going to be sent running by a group of reporters.

"Mister Carter, any speculation on whether an election will be called?" a CBC reporter asked him, pressing a microphone towards him.

Carter shook his head, "At the moment that depends on a number of factors; if you will let me get to my office I might be able to get you a few answers."

"Who do you support as the next liberal leader?" Another reporter stuck his camera forward and Will looked over at him.

"Good question; again, as soon as I find out what is going on I'll be able to answer it. Give me a few hours and I will have the answer to all your questions, for the time being, please excuse me." He turned and walked up the steps pushing his way through the doors nodding to the security guard who blocked the reporters from following.

"You're really going to talk to the press?" Andrew asked, as the elevator doors slid shut and they swept upwards.

"Someone has to," Will replied. "It's not as if anyone else is bothering to get up and deal with this, too busy hiding from the public and waiting for the dust to settle."

They walked into Will's office, Alicia already behind her desk making calls, shuffling papers as she handed him a stack of messages that had accumulated over the weekend. Lisa was waiting for him as he came around his desk and sat down ready to brief him on what was happening in the halls of power. He glanced out of the window up at the Peace Tower clock; it was still early and they had a long day ahead of them.

He started by going through his messages, handing off the unimportant ones to Lisa who glanced over them and made notes. There were a lot of calls from the press, looking for whatever tidbit of information he could offer, or a juicy quote to accompany their story about the kidnappings, about the prime minister and about the scandal.

"The RCMP made a public statement that the kidnappings were perpetrated by Iraqi insurgents," Lisa commented as she looked up from her notes. "We've got a number of questions asking if you feel this justifies Canada sending troops to help stabilize Iraq..."

Will glanced up absently. "I don't know," he replied continuing to sift through his messages. He took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes, "You know Hesston's going to be screaming for it first thing tomorrow..."

Alicia leaned around the door, "Will, I have the finance minister on the phone."

Will frowned and scooped up the phone, drawing a deep breath as he pressed the receiver to his ear, "Yes, Minister?"

"Carter," the robust sounding voice came across the phone. The finance minister was someone Will had met a few times, but couldn't say he knew well. The man was a formidable party member and there could only be one reason for his call. "I saw you on the news a few minutes ago; glad to see someone grew a set and faced those media dogs."

"Thank you, Minister," Will stated, making no reference to the fact the finance minister was one of those still in hiding. He sat upright in his chair and took his glasses off. "Perhaps you could provide me with some of the answers they're seeking," Will asked cautiously.

"Naturally," the minister stated, oozing charm. "I'm intending to make a bid for party leadership," Will had been right in his guess about the reason for the call, "and I was wondering if I could count on your support."

Great, Will realized; in his rush to do the right thing he had landed right in the middle of the leadership race. He shifted in his chair, knowing that in the rapidly shifting political landscape throwing his support behind any one candidate was risky. Especially when he was the only one facing the media that day. The unofficial spokesperson for the Liberal party, by default because no one else had the nerve.

"Well, Minister, there are a lot of considerations..." Will faltered.

"Your support would be crucial, William," the minister sounded determined.

"True," Will replied. "But under the current circumstances I must appear impartial..."

"Excellent," the minister replied. "I understand... who knows this could mean a ministry of your own, William." And with that the minister hung up.

Lisa gave him a frown, "Did you just agree to support the finance minister?"

Before Will could answer Alicia was once again leaning around the door, "I have the Minister of Intergovernmental Affairs..."

"Here we go again..." Will murmured, rubbing his eyes as he picked up the phone.

"Mister Carter," the suave voice greeted him. The Minister of Intergovernmental Affairs Will knew; they had the dubious privilege of being seated together at a couple of government functions. The man had an annoying habit of calling him Billy.

"Minister," Will replied standing up and moving to look out of the window, "how can I help you? He gritted his teeth, knowing full well what the minister wanted.

"Saw the news, Billy boy," the minister replied. "Damn fine piece of politicking, thought I'd let you know I'm coming forward to lead the party; someone has to make that sacrifice and show some decisive action in our current crisis, eh?"

"Of course, Minister," Will said patiently. The man was trying to hide his own political ambitions behind the illusion that he was reluctantly stepping up to lead the country. It was a shallow ploy at best.

"Good to see someone out front and dealing with the media as well," the minister continued. "I understand you haven't given your support to anyone yet."

"Well, I was considering my options," Will said calmly.

"You know as well as I do how catastrophic it will be if that bastard over in Finance gets it..." The minister's true colours began to show through his pretense. "Now, of course, if you did decide to announce your support for me..."

"I can't do that publicly," Will replied desperately, "given the situation right now..."

"I understand," the minister replied smugly. "So long as you're on the right side when all the dust settles..." the threat hung in the air.

"Naturally," Will replied after a pause.

"Good to hear it; besides, I am sure we can find a cabinet spot for you, if you catch my meaning." The minister hung up the phone not waiting for a reply there was little need for civility after that.

"Great," Will murmured sitting back down into his chair rubbing his temples. "I think I just promised to support both candidates."

Lisa shrugged, "It's a hard choice to make..."

Will nodded, "Absolutely; I'm going to call the party whip, see what his thoughts are, maybe he can give me some advice..."

Lisa gaped at him, "You are seriously going to call him?" She shook her head, "But he hates you..."

"Hate is such a strong word," Will replied with a shrug. "He and I just disagree on who I should be voting for, my party or my constituents."

The Liberal Party Whip was an old tyrant; he kept a tight rein on the members and how they voted in parliament, ensuring they toed the party line and voted with the Prime Minister. He and Will had crossed paths on several key issues. Will squarely believed in his freedom to vote the way he saw fit, to benefit the people that counted on him to represent them. He'd been able to get away with it up until that point, but now he needed the Whip...

He blew out a sigh and picked up the phone.

* * *

Johnson lifted the binoculars to his eyes as he surveyed the area. Ottawa was a city that lacked a towering skyline. Its buildings obeyed a strict height limit that kept them all below the towering heights reached in other cities. When you couldn't build up, you built outwards and so Ottawa sprawled.

The deserted floor of the office building was perfect; its high glass windows allowed a lot of light in, and afforded Johnson with a clear view out over the street, plenty of forewarning if anything was heading his way, and with a pair of busy call centers downstairs; there was ample opportunity to escape.

He repositioned himself, leaning on an A-frame workbench as he scanned the rooftops of the buildings around him, looking for perspective sniping points, but none gave him the height, or the angle needed. Shooting Carter would be out of the question, and he wouldn't be able to get away in time.

He would have to be creative.

A car bomb, although a preferred way of killing politicians, would have a negative effect. Carter's file told of how the man had been raised in the United Kingdom; the Brits knew first hand about car bombings, and they were such an indelicate way of killing a person, especially someone you wanted to martyr.

He lowered his binoculars and walked across the empty floor, glad that the last occupants of the offices had gone bankrupt before completing the renovation; it had been one of the principal reasons he had rented the space, it gave them some space to think without the worry of being disturbed.

He needed to sacrifice Carter in a way that would solidify public opinion behind the vote. But that meant he would have to wait and see how the confidence vote went down. Another waiting game.

"You could always duplicate the Iraqi hostage takings," the other man with him stated, leaning on a pile of disused air conditioning ducts.

Johnson glanced at the newcomer who had helped him kill the Deputy Prime Minister. His partner had been only too happy to volunteer to assist after he had found his own way out of Canada as severed as Johnson's. It had been easy for Johnson to convince the man to one more job, he just neglected to mention that this one wasn't sanctioned by Langley.

"I have no desire to cut a man's head off and videotape it," Johnson said. There were limits.

"I am just saying that if you want this done correctly then you need to kill him in such a way that leaves no doubt who did it," the man stated. "It needs to be horrific, something that will teach these complacent..." he gestured down at the people walking up and down the street below them, "Canadians a lesson," his voice spat the word.

"And how do we get him?" Johnson said, lowering his binoculars again.

"We use the MI6 agent," the partner replied lightly. "After all, he's close to Carter."

"They'll never go for that," Johnson said shaking his head.

"Who said we ask?" the partner replied sticking his hands into his pockets. "I'll find us somewhere quiet."

Johnson nodded, realizing that he was on a slippery slope, and about to slide down. The price he paid for doing the dirty work no one else was willing to do. No, he corrected, that was the price the CIA paid for getting a man like him involved in this mess. Someone had to finish what they had started, and if Johnson had been given all the facts going in, he would have done it this way to begin with.

He looked across the floor to where the two remaining members of his 'cell' were playing cards. The two he had held back 'just in case' and now he was glad he had the foresight to do exactly that. The first, Yani, was a young Agency rookie specialized in surveillance tech, he'd already spent days setting up a network to monitor Carter. The other, O'Neil, was an ex marine and built like a brick outhouse.

Johnson smiled; if the arrogant Canadians thought they had won, then they would start to get complacent, which meant he was free to act.

* * *

Will sat across from the party whip, safe in the dining room of the Chateau Laurier. The hotel had a couple of appealing features for Will's guest; firstly it was extravagant, serving an amazing brunch that catered to all tastes. And secondly it had an underground entrance that ensured the party whip wasn't spotted as he drove in for the meeting.

Will disliked the man with a passion, and it was no secret the party whip returned the sentiment. They represented exact opposite methods of thinking. But under the circumstances, they both found themselves on the same side and co-operation was the only thing that would save the party.

Will was already waiting, picking at a plate of toast; never being much of a fan of breakfast it was about all he could stomach. He looked up from the Sunday paper he was reading as the Whip was shown into the dining room, and Will stood extending his hand.

"Thank you for coming," he said with a tight smile.

"Carter." The Whip shook his hand before sitting down and flipping a napkin out into his lap, "I must admit, I was surprised that you decided to call, after such a grandiose show with the Press this morning."

Will closed his newspaper and folded it neatly, setting it aside. "I'm doing what's best for the party," he said firmly.

"Except you have never done what's good for the party," the Whip replied, taking out his heavy rimmed glasses and peering over at menu as a waiter came forward to take his order. The Whip pointed at something exotic, and nodded his thanks returning his attention to Will.

"I do what I feel is right for the party," Will said folding his arms. "And to me that means getting up and answering the questions no one else in the party seems willing to answer." He tapped the newspaper, "It's better than simply leaving the press to use their imaginations."

"Indeed," the Whip replied, pursing his lips as he considered Will. "I hear you had a call from both our perspective leaders this morning, and you seem to have pledged your support to both of them. And considering your...prominent position in front of the media, you are in a strong position to help select the next leader of Canada."

Even if that leader would last a matter of hours if Bob Hesston got his confidence vote, Will thought dryly.

"The problem is," the Whip stated stirring sugar into his gourmet coffee, "that both the Finance Minister and the Minister of Intergovernmental affairs are very popular within the party; yet neither has a clear advantage, and if either of them win, it will split the party in half."

Will shifted in his seat, "And without decisive leadership..."

"And if the Conservatives force an election..." the Whip continued.

"We'd lose the election," Will concluded.

The Whip stopped stirring his coffee and tasted it, adding more sugar. "So, we are faced with a conundrum, and you Mister Carter, planted yourself squarely in the middle of it."

Will nodded, by getting up and promising to talk to the media he had volunteered for the one post no one in the party wanted; he was the sacrificial lamb thrown to the media to keep them busy while the party fell upon each other trying to grab the leadership.

"And even if one of them does win... if the Finance Minister becomes the Prime Minister," the whip mused, "I give us about three months until an election." He shrugged, "If the Intergovernmental Minister wins, I give us about three days. They're both so radical..."

Will nodded, not liking the situation at all. "I did, technically, promise to support both of them."

"Ahh, a political promise," the whip replied in amusement. "Good to see you are learning to play the game at long last." He shook his head, "Once this is all over, you could be a minister, rare for someone your age but you have political collateral, just don't squander it, William."

Will took a deep breath and shook his head. "What about a moderate candidate" he asked quietly. "A third party both sides can agree on?"

"Who do you have in mind?" the Whip asked sipping his coffee.

"What about Thorpe?" Will asked, sitting forward in his chair.

"Thorpe?" The whip nearly spit out his coffee. "The Minister of Heritage..." he stopped, looking thoughtful. "Thorpe. Moderate, doesn't like to rock the boat, hasn't done much to provoke controversy; interesting choice, Mister Carter, now how are you going to convince the two other candidates to back him?"

"I'm not sure," Will admitted truthfully. "The idea just came to me, but the two ministers hate each other, and I'm willing to bet they'd rather anyone but their opponent get in; and considering the fact we have," he glanced at his watch, "literally hours until Parliament reconvenes, it's the best choice."

"Interesting," the Whip agreed, nodding in amusement.

Will set his cup down and stood up, "Well, I need to get back to the hill. I have a press conference to attend."

"Good luck." The whip smiled into his cup, wondering if Will would bleat before the wolves tore him to shreds.