The Labyrinth Campaign by J. Michael Sweeney Page B

I’m starting to feel like you’re hiding something from us.”
    Ian was caught by surprise, but he quickly recovered and explained, “I haven’t been hiding anything. I broke the news to Charles last week, and I called to set up this dinner with you two the next day. I’m just ready for the next chapter in my life, and now is as good a time as any to start.”
    Lizzie eagerly broke in. “Well, tell us about your plans. Where are you going? How long are you going to be gone?”
    So Ian began the explanation of his journey. Flying to New York, where he would stay for a few days, he would then catch a train to Washington, DC, where he would stay a week and soak in every historical attraction the city had to offer. Then on to Dallas.
    Patricia asked, “What’s in Dallas?”
    “Well, I’ve always been intrigued by the Kennedy assassination. And if I’m touring America, Texas is one of a handful of states that I want to be able to say I’ve been to. And …” Ian was struggling to come up with any other good reasons why he would be visiting Dallas, but Patricia broke in and saved the day.
    “And,” she said smiling, “you obviously know a woman there.”
    Relieved, Ian lied, “You got me.”
    And before it was necessary to continue, Lizzie interrupted, “Isn’t Dallas where that presidential candidate Will Hawkins is from?”
    Ian’s heart raced, but his exterior remained unfazed. He was about to respond when Lizzie continued, “I think he is so impressive. And so good-looking.”
    Ian’s emotions got the better of him. “He is not impressive. He is scum. He’s just another rich politician using his money to buy power. He is everything that is wrong with democracy in this world.”
    Ian’s outburst caught the two women by surprise. They had never known him to be so emotionally involved in politics.
    Lizzie spoke first. “I’m sorry, Uncle Ian. I was just making conversation. I really don’t know that much about him.”
    Ian relaxed. “No, honey, I’m sorry. My political viewpoints aren’t appropriate at a dinner with you two, celebrating the biggest life change I’ll ever experience. I shouldn’t have overreacted.”
    “Enough said,” Lizzie responded.
    As the three finished dinner, Patricia and Ian exchanged glances, both knowing that the other was fully aware there was more to this situation than the surface conversation had indicated.

    Greg Larson and John Sterling had planned on meeting at the Greenville Avenue Bar and Grill at 9:00 p.m. Larson arrived early and was sitting at the long, half-empty bar when Sterling entered. Larson’s reaction to Sterling’s appearance was similar to their first meeting. But this time Larson refrained from any sarcastic comments, remembering that Sterling was no pushover.
    The two men shook hands, and Larson asked, “Did you find anything?”
    “Patience, my man, first things first,” Sterling responded while signaling the barkeep to bring him a beer.
    After what seemed like an eternity to Larson, the beer arrived, and Sterling turned toward him on his barstool. “I think I’ve got something you’re going to be very interested in.”
    “Go on.”
    “After our last conversation, I realized that the bulk of our Hawkins research has focused on his life in the US. So I chose to immediately investigate his years at Oxford. It actually wasn’t at all difficult to identify when he was there and then find someone else who was there at the same time. Once I found someone, I introduced myself as a government representative conducting an official candidate background check.”
    “There is no such thing.”
    “I know that and you know that, but Barbara Pollock from Leeds, UK, doesn’t.”
    Larson smiled. “I’m beginning to like your style. Go on.”
    “Anyway, Ms. Pollock had an Oxford yearbook and was actually quite helpful. First, there’s a picture in the yearbook of the Debate Society. And guess who’s standing next to Senator Will Hawkins in the