A red-brick townhouse on the south side of Capitol Hill, Washington D.C.
Ten in the morning.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, slicing the conference room into stark black and white stripes.
The room's furnishings were somewhat dated. The walls were adorned with a propaganda poster from the Roosevelt New Deal era and a black-and-white photograph of Martin Luther King Jr. in front of the Lincoln Memorial.
Leo Wallace stood behind Daniel Sanders.
He was formally dressed today, shedding the wild, aggressive air he carried in Pittsburgh. He looked like a blade concealed in its sheath.
A dozen or so people were seated in the room.
Looking at the group, Leo could sense a palpable weariness in the air.
It was the exhaustion born from being constantly on the defensive, of ceding ground again and again under the combined pressure of the Establishment Faction and the Republican Party.
