promised a chance at the
biggest paycheck she'd ever had from a single job. And, knowing Alyssa, he'd
also promised that the task would be next-to-impossible.
That third
party was Wheeler, the Communications Director for the presidential campaign of
John Hicks. Advertising, media relations, and opposition research all fell
under his bailiwick. For the opposition research part, he hired Alyssa
Chambers.
Over the course
of the primary campaign, Alyssa had learned the secrets of many of Hicks's
opponents. One had once been in debt to a mob boss. One had had an affair. One
liked his mind-altering substances way too much. None of those candidates ever
got traction, so none of the information had ever seen the light of day. That
wasn't her concern. Alyssa Chambers got paid to learn secrets, not to use them.
Secretly, she was glad they hadn't. That was the part of her job she preferred
to keep at arm's length.
The last person
Wheeler had wanted her to find the goods on was the hardest. Hicks was running
second for the nomination – a distant second. The overwhelming favorite was
Rich West.
Bringing him
down would have taken a work of art. Trying to do it had been Alyssa’s last job
before the frame up. Perhaps her last job ever, by the looks of things.
However, if she wanted to find out who framed her, the people who sent her into
the office of the Rich West for President campaign would be a good place to
start.
So, her first
line of suspects included the people she'd worked with: Tom Wheeler and maybe
George Pierce. The latter would have to be crazy to do it, since Alyssa knew
enough of his secrets to destroy him. But paranoid was paranoid: Pierce had to
be a suspect, too.
Even so, she
planned to start with Wheeler. She changed into her new suit, left the hotel,
and again rode the Metro, this time to K Street.
What Wall
Street is to the world of High Finance, K Street in Washington, D.C., is to
politics. Lobbying firms, special interest groups, polling firms, consultants -
all of them make their home on K Street.
Alyssa went there
because the insiders played their game there.
At the Metro
station Alyssa decided it was time for an elementary bit of intelligence
gathering.
For a woman who
stole some of the most closely guarded secrets in Washington, slipping a cell
phone out of someone’s pocket was no trouble at all. She had left hers at home
that morning. Even dumb phones like hers were far too easy for the government
to trace. For the same reason, even if she had her own, she would still have
stolen someone else’s for this call.
Alyssa walked
away from the teenage girl who would soon be missing her smartphone and dialed the front desk of her department at the University.
The phone
picked up on the first ring. Even though she had made the call for the specific
purpose of learning this, Alyssa's blood suddenly ran cold. "Office of
Professor Chambers, who's calling please?"
The voice was
male.
Her normal
receptionist was female.
She had never
heard that voice before. Chambers hung up, threw the stolen phone in the trash,
and leapt onto the first train that went by. She hopped off at the next station
and grabbed a different train. She repeated the procedure six times.
She did it to
clear the location where she’d used the phone, as quickly and randomly as
possible. That was necessary for one simple reason: A strange voice answering
her phone could only mean someone was investigating her office.
The FBI already
suspected her. Alyssa was now a fugitive.
She led a life
guaranteed to harden her. Her work permitted few friends and even fewer
confidants. As a professional breaker of the law, she lived with the constant
threat of incarceration if she ever messed up badly enough. But as cold as
she'd trained herself to be, it still took several minutes of train-hopping
before she brought herself under control.
It's one thing
to be suspected of breaking and entering or electronic theft – her normal
crimes. But to be
biggest paycheck she'd ever had from a single job. And, knowing Alyssa, he'd
also promised that the task would be next-to-impossible.
That third
party was Wheeler, the Communications Director for the presidential campaign of
John Hicks. Advertising, media relations, and opposition research all fell
under his bailiwick. For the opposition research part, he hired Alyssa
Chambers.
Over the course
of the primary campaign, Alyssa had learned the secrets of many of Hicks's
opponents. One had once been in debt to a mob boss. One had had an affair. One
liked his mind-altering substances way too much. None of those candidates ever
got traction, so none of the information had ever seen the light of day. That
wasn't her concern. Alyssa Chambers got paid to learn secrets, not to use them.
Secretly, she was glad they hadn't. That was the part of her job she preferred
to keep at arm's length.
The last person
Wheeler had wanted her to find the goods on was the hardest. Hicks was running
second for the nomination – a distant second. The overwhelming favorite was
Rich West.
Bringing him
down would have taken a work of art. Trying to do it had been Alyssa’s last job
before the frame up. Perhaps her last job ever, by the looks of things.
However, if she wanted to find out who framed her, the people who sent her into
the office of the Rich West for President campaign would be a good place to
start.
So, her first
line of suspects included the people she'd worked with: Tom Wheeler and maybe
George Pierce. The latter would have to be crazy to do it, since Alyssa knew
enough of his secrets to destroy him. But paranoid was paranoid: Pierce had to
be a suspect, too.
Even so, she
planned to start with Wheeler. She changed into her new suit, left the hotel,
and again rode the Metro, this time to K Street.
What Wall
Street is to the world of High Finance, K Street in Washington, D.C., is to
politics. Lobbying firms, special interest groups, polling firms, consultants -
all of them make their home on K Street.
Alyssa went there
because the insiders played their game there.
At the Metro
station Alyssa decided it was time for an elementary bit of intelligence
gathering.
For a woman who
stole some of the most closely guarded secrets in Washington, slipping a cell
phone out of someone’s pocket was no trouble at all. She had left hers at home
that morning. Even dumb phones like hers were far too easy for the government
to trace. For the same reason, even if she had her own, she would still have
stolen someone else’s for this call.
Alyssa walked
away from the teenage girl who would soon be missing her smartphone and dialed the front desk of her department at the University.
The phone
picked up on the first ring. Even though she had made the call for the specific
purpose of learning this, Alyssa's blood suddenly ran cold. "Office of
Professor Chambers, who's calling please?"
The voice was
male.
Her normal
receptionist was female.
She had never
heard that voice before. Chambers hung up, threw the stolen phone in the trash,
and leapt onto the first train that went by. She hopped off at the next station
and grabbed a different train. She repeated the procedure six times.
She did it to
clear the location where she’d used the phone, as quickly and randomly as
possible. That was necessary for one simple reason: A strange voice answering
her phone could only mean someone was investigating her office.
The FBI already
suspected her. Alyssa was now a fugitive.
She led a life
guaranteed to harden her. Her work permitted few friends and even fewer
confidants. As a professional breaker of the law, she lived with the constant
threat of incarceration if she ever messed up badly enough. But as cold as
she'd trained herself to be, it still took several minutes of train-hopping
before she brought herself under control.
It's one thing
to be suspected of breaking and entering or electronic theft – her normal
crimes. But to be
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