The heavy oak door of Senator Alden's Georgetown residence clicked shut.
Ryan stepped out into the freezing, relentless D.C. rain. He didn't rush down the stone steps. He adjusted the collar of his overcoat, letting the biting wind wash over his face, clearing the stale air of the dining room from his lungs.
Hayes stood by the armored Suburban, opening the rear door.
Ryan slid into the pressurized quiet of the cabin.
Sophie was waiting for him. Her iPad was resting on her knees, the screen glowing with a dense matrix of financial routing data. She had changed into a sharp, charcoal-grey pantsuit, her hair pulled back into a severe knot.
"Alden took the bait," Ryan said, settling into the leather seat as Hayes pulled the heavy vehicle away from the curb. "He's killing the FTC injunction. He wants to use the data vulnerability angle to bludgeon the legacy defense contractors in his committee hearings."
