One Blood

Chapter One

PART I: REVENGE

 

 

“If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance.”

~George Bernard Shaw

Chapter One

 

September 27, 2002

Friday

Baton Rouge, LA

 

The Governor’s workspace was modeled after the Oval Office. A brazen blue and gold state seal was embedded in the center of the wall, behind an ornate mahogany desk. The words UNION, JUSTICE, CONFIDENCE surrounded a spread-winged pelican looking down on three hungry chicks. Below it, on top of a mahogany credenza, prized pictures depicted Louisiana’s fifty-third Governor, Randy A. Lafitte, holding court with the likes of sitting President George W. Bush and his own personal mentor and confidante, David Duke.

Randy sat behind his desk, hunched over two satellite images depicting the path of what he hoped was the last hurricane of the season. According to these snapshots, the storm would make landfall somewhere between Mississippi and Texas in the next three days. Having survived innumerable hurricanes during the past eight years in office, he knew the playbook well. Randy made a mental note to set up a meeting with the Federal Emergency Management Agency, and then buzzed his secretary.

“Robin, get me fifteen minutes with the President. If his people give you any flack, remind them that he still owes me dinner for losing that bet.”

“Yes sir.”

While hanging up, he caught his reflection in the window. Sometimes Randy didn’t even recognize the elder statesman staring back at him. He smiled at the slightly distorted image. His hazel eyes brimmed with intellect and empathy. His laser-whitened teeth were attractive and reassuring. His square jaw and deep dimples, which his first campaign manager had often referred to as “the lady-vote getters,” were working their collective mojo.

And underneath the polish remained a hint of the young rabble-rouser he’d begrudgingly outgrown.

Underestimated from day one.

Randy was counting on that underestimation as his second and final term as governor drew to a close. He didn’t possess his late father’s intimidating persona, booming voice, or piercing blue eyes, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the youngest man in the history of the state to hold a mayorship, and at fifty-seven he believed he had a strong chance of succeeding George W. Bush when he bowed out in 2008. The tragic events of September 11th would guarantee the need for strong, yet charismatic leadership in this country and Randy was just the man for the job.