Pappy looked around the suite of offices. He wondered what it was like to sit in a place like this day after day, rushing to vote on one issue after another. It had to be boring as hell. “Yes. It got rather ugly, with threats on both sides. You might want to think about updating your private security, Senator.”

“You took a great risk coming here, Pappy. I appreciate it. I don’t suppose it would do any good to confront the others and demand an explanation. Will the sanction be passed on to the program in Colorado?”

Pappy shrugged. “That would be my guess. You need to take extra steps to protect yourself. No one knows I’m here, Senator.”

The senator looked at his watch. “We should be leaving now. Traffic is heavy at this hour of the evening.”

“Senator, dinner isn’t really a good idea. I don’t want to be out and about any more than is necessary,” Pappy said.

The senator made a funny sound that was supposed to be a laugh. “I guess we can all hide out and turn into recluses. That’s not my style. I can get us all out of here and into my car with no one seeing us. My security detail waits outside the restaurant while I dine. They’re ex–Secret Service. Panella’s is a family-style restaurant near Dupont Circle. I’ve been eating there for years and years. It’s safe in case you’re worried.” He eyed Pappy’s thin disguise, which consisted of a little padding under his clothes, a fisherman’s cap, wire-rim glasses, and a little latex filler around his nose and chin. “The food is wonderful.” He directed his last comment to Kyros, who smiled.

Pappy shrugged. Maybe this weak link in the consortium wasn’t so weak after all. Just then he looked like he had the right mix of piss and vinegar. He shrugged again. He’d come here to do what he had to do, and he’d done it. The rest was up to the senator.

It was precisely 6:20 when the Rainford “wives” and Slick exited Sam’s bedroom. They were all giggling and laughing, even Sam. “We look like a bunch of penguins. How do those nuns wear all this stuff? These habits weigh a ton. Is this material what they call black serge?” Sam asked.

“As far as I know, only Benedictine nuns still dress like this. The more modern nuns dress in civilian clothes these days,” Kayla said knowledgeably. “Speaking strictly for myself, I like to see a nun in a habit. I don’t know how they ever got used to the headpieces and this starched white thing around the face. It’s a wimple. And it itches. I guess they get used to it. The outfit somehow makes it more…solemn as well as official.”