"Fine, but you do understand nonetheless. We want these hearings to epitomize the rest of American politics with procrastination, obfuscation and procedural gerrymandering." Sir George had learned quite a bit about the political system since he had moved to the States. "And to what aim?" Rickfield's political sense was waving red flags. "That's it. Nothing more." "And in return?" The Senator had learned to be direct in mat- ters of additional compensation since he had hooked up with the earthy General. "I will assure you that the details of your arrangements with Allied Dynamics will remain safe with me." "Until the next time, right? This is blackmail?" "No. Yes." Sir George answered. "Yes, it is blackmail, but without the usual messiness. And no, there will be no next time. For, as soon as the hearings are over, it would be most advisable for you to take leave of your position and enjoy the money you have earned outside of your paycheck." "And, if I don't agree to this?" Rickfield was looking at his options which seemed to be somewhere between few and none. Maybe he only had one. "That would be so unfortunate." Sir George smiled as he spoke. "The media will receive a two page letter, it is already pre- pared I can assure you, detailing your illegal involvements with Allied, General Young and Mr. Boyers." "What's in it for you? You don't want any money?" The confusion in Rickfield's mind was terribly obvious, and he was sliding on a logical Mobius loop. "No Senator, no money. Merely a favor." "I will let you know what I decide. May I have your number?" "I do not need to contact you again. Your answer will be evident when the hearings begin. Whatever course you pursue, we will make an appropriate response." * * * * * "Scott!" A woman called across the noisy floor. "Is your phone off the hook?" "Yeah, why?" He looked up and couldn't match the voice with a person. "You gotta call." "Who is it? I'm busy." "Some guy from Brooklyn sounds like. Says he got a package for you?" Holy shit. It's Vito! Scott's anonymous caller. The one who had caused him so much work, so much research without being able to print one damn thing. Not yet. "Yeah, OK. It's back on." The phone rang instantly and Scott rushed to pick it up on the first ring. "Yeah, Scott Mason here." He sounded hurried. "Yo! Scott. It's me, your friend, rememba?" No one could forget the accent that sounded more fake than real. He had been nicknamed Vito for reference purposes by Scott. "Sure do, fella," Scott said cheerily. "That bunch of shit you sent me was worthless. Garbage."