At Risk of Winning (The Max Masterson Series Book 1) Read Free Page A

and although the event was ten years in the past, his memories brought the details back to life.
    The senator conducted all of his life’s activities on the hour principle. During his term in the Senate, many years ago, the idea of a filibuster to block a bill was so repugnant to him that he voted against his own party just to avoid sitting through the long hours of monotony. he earned the nickname “Minuteman Masterson.” Although the description lacked the accuracy he would have required if he had coined the phrase, the name stuck. his friends from the Senate, old colleagues from the press, and even the president of the United States referred to him as Minuteman.
In his meetings of the Senate Intelligence Committee years before, the senator could see the writing on the wall. Anyone who used the internet, drove a car, voted, talked on a cell phone, or went to the doctor was subject to surveillance by the government and the agencies that were created for that purpose. Privacy for Americans was disappearing, and Senator Masterson openly displayed his contempt for anyone who chose to assault the basic rights of law-abiding people. he fidgeted through day after day of classified briefings by law enforcement and national security agencies, all designed to erode the freedoms of the people who had voted him into office. The legislation before his committee expanded the type and amount of information that government could squeeze from records, extract from conversations, and extrapolate from everyday activities in the search for terrorists.
    “I have heard all of this talk about how you need to root out these terrorists in our midst, Director.” The senator addressed Adam Pryor, director of homeland Security, as he had on hundreds of previous occasions, and his disdain for the man was legendary among his peers.
    “What I want to know, for the umpteenth time, is how do you decide who you gather information about. From what I’ve heard, that big computer in that big building in my home state of Florida is busily gathering information on every man, woman, and child in our great country, and then it filters out the bad guys based upon profiles of the words they use . . . isn’t that right, Mr. Director?” he had long ago stopped masking his tone to temper his words.
    “Well, Senator, we don’t use the information we gather against law-abiding Americans.” Minuteman Masterson had his opponent on the ropes, blissfully aware that Pryor would never be comfortable with his persistent grilling. The director was obviously weary of the subpoenas generated by the committee chairman.
    “Well, once again, we have gone full circle. You gather the information about law-abiding citizens. You never throw it away because you don’t know when down the road you might need it, and I’m supposed to sit here and take your word that somebody in government won’t abuse this invasion of my privacy . . .”
    “Senator, I only meant—”
”Don’t talk while I’m summarizing your testimony, or I will have you bound and gagged. Do you understand me?” he leaned back in his chair and continued, “. . . and the privacy of all Americans, because the government would never do that sort of thing, is that your testimony?”
“Senator, I am here under subpoena, and I have been sworn to tell the truth, and as God is my witness, I—”
“Don’t bring God into this. You will someday meet your maker, but today, you’re mine. I don’t trust you or any of the people who have their security clearance to tap into that information, to steal my words and use them against me, and neither should anyone who has had their privacy stolen by their own government,” he pronounced loudly. “You are excused from this subpoena, but you are subject to recall at any time I decide to have your sorry ass back in this committee room.” Masterson slammed his large notebook shut with a bang. The other committee members jumped at the sound but sat speechless.
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