It was now Meredith's turn. How would the Senator respond? Meredith had met the woman on no more than a half dozen occasions. She didn't like her. Like all career politicians and high profile business leaders, the woman had two personalities. One for public display and the other when not fronting a camera. Meredith had witnessed both. The woman had one agenda; self-promotion and God help anyone who stood in her way. Behind her back she was known as Katrina, unpredictable, destructive and not to be trusted.

Meredith recalled the wildly acclaimed television interview she'd seen recently. To her credit the lady spoke of her ambition. She responded to the question with surprising openness. Her answer won her a legion of new fans. Meredith wasn't one of them. She had seen the real Adrianna Tollerson in action.

"Yes, the White House is my dream. Reality is however another story. I have any number of hurdles confronting me. I am a woman, I don't have the funds available to initiate let alone support a lengthy campaign and I won't trade my beliefs to woo potential backers. I support America and Americans, not media barons, bankers or oil producers."

In an unprecedented response, the entire production crew burst into applause. The lady was on her way. Like unrefrigerated milk, political acclaim has a short shelf life. Senator Tollerson's interview had faded into yesterday's news. Few recalled her impassioned and patriotic plea. Meredith remembered, what's more she recognised opportunity. She could provide the Senator with further exposure. Would Adrianna though be brave enough to take on both the President and Aristotle?

"Senator Tollerson's phone, the senator's not available. Please leave a message." The response stunned Meredith, she recognised the voice. It was Adrianna's and it wasn't recorded.

"Adrianna, your interview was superb. I can now provide you with the next rung on your ladder. You have five seconds to respond."

"Who are you?"

"I ask the questions, Senator. Are you interested? I promise you there could be a vacancy in the White House in a matter of days. I see a resignation coming.

"Your time is up." Meredith hesitated. The Senator hadn't recognised her voice.

"Don't hang up. Tell me more."

"Not now. Will you meet with me?"

"Who are you?"

"For the time being it's safer if you don't know. Suffice to say, we have met and you are under no threat from me. I must however warn you, if knowledge of your meeting with me becomes public, your life will then be at risk. Decision time, Adrianna."

"Where and when?"

"I'll get back to you."



Meredith dialled a second time. She thanked the Lord for her memory; it was near photographic, particularly in its capacity to recall numbers. Daniel's father answered. "Hello." She hoped that was an indication Daniel had taken her advice and gone into hiding.

"Please pass a message onto Daniel," said the caller. There was no time for greeting. "Tell him there's an extremely urgent e-mail coming his way. Sorry to be so abrupt, but it's a matter of life or death. Thank you. Don't phone him, text him."


She hoped he remembered the addresses they had created years ago. Hers was z7q3$q7@needhelp.com. His was the reverse, q7$z7z3@needhelp.com. The translation was simple, the z identified the line on the keyboard commencing with z, the 7 identified the seventh letter on that line, M. q3 was the third letter on the top alphabetical row, the E. The $ represented 4. q7 equated to U. Total message, me 4 u and the reverse, u 4 me.

She penned the e-mail. 'Need a delivery man. If available, please respond.'

She sat and waited. A reply would clarify two points, first he was still alive and second she had found her courier. No reply on the other hand would intensify her fears. She didn't have long to wait. 'Unemployed, in need of work.' Relief flooded through her. Unemployed was so much better than dead.

'Where and when.' It was the second time in less than four minutes she'd heard the same two questions. His query returned her to the present. A brief consultation with Tyler provided the answer.

'The cripple's going to be in his usual spot in an hour. Suggest you wear your old uniform and move him on.' There was no further communication.



At first Daniel didn't like the idea. Bullying an old soldier, a crippled one at that was a sure way to attract a crowd. Particularly if the soldier screamed in protest as he knew Tyler would. After a moment's thought, Daniel recognised the brilliance behind the idea. Getaways were always easier when people became noisy and boisterous. Both he and Tyler would vanish without notice, the delivery completed.

He observed Tyler from a distance; tonight he was an angry man. He was agitated, talking to himself. He rattled the tin, recited some poetry and screamed about the indifferent attitude of politicians. The same note lay at his feet; 'BLIND & HOMELESS, Afghanistan vet.' People held back fearing the madman.

Daniel approached, walked up to and dropped some coins into the tin.

"Make you feel better?" challenged the man on the ground. "A few coins for my broken legs and a burger too, how very generous." The donor offered the food he carried. Every passer-by's eyes were locked on the abusive man. After examining the food, the cripple hurled it back at the donor in the policeman uniform. Watchers were aghast at the behaviour. Their shock intensified on hearing the policeman's reply.

"Afghanistan my arse," yelled the policeman. "Why don't you tell people the truth about your legs? There's nothing wrong with them. You're nothing but a fraud, sponging off people's kindness." The cripple jumped to his feet, grabbed his crutches and started swinging them at the retreating policeman. He then hurled them towards Daniel and ran off into the night.


Tyler reflected on what had happened. It carried all the earmarks of Meredith. Daniel had been the courier. His ability to ad lib amazed him. The argument hadn't intimidated him and he'd come prepared, the coins and the burger were clever touches. The burger had to have been Meredith's idea, they'd used it before. And it had gone undetected; no one had seen him insert the tiny sealed bag containing the killer's severed fingers and an address inside the food bag. All attention had been riveted on his outburst.

It was good to be working with Meredith again, against a common enemy. There was however a major problem, the suspect Aristotle enjoyed Presidential support. How did one inform the President his closest associate was a traitor? Particularly, when there was no evidence to substantiate the allegation.

Despite Meredith's argument, which he recognised as valid, Tyler favoured the assassination solution. It would buy them time. Would it though see Meredith cleared of the innuendo surrounding her father's death? Tyler feared not. Smeared, as she had been by Parnell, Meredith's career was finished. Her one hope of absolution lay with an Aristotle confession. And dead men don't talk. If captured though, would Aristotle talk, depends on the methods employed? Conventional questioning would achieve absolute denials. As he headed back to the mansion of Senator McIntosh, Tyler hoped Meredith had a plan. He wouldn't be disappointed.