With the conference over the members exit soundlessly as Senator Ricks remains patiently behind. Atlas still seated glances at the senator and says, “Do you need something Senator Ricks?”

Senator Ricks hesitatingly responds, “Sir, it may not be my place to say, but I fear that Harold is up to something. I am not sure what it is, but he has been checking up on my people. Unless it is you sir? Have I failed you in any way to merit such an action?”

Atlas lips twitch in a frown, but he shows no other reaction. “I can assure you, you have done nothing to warrant such actions. I will have a word with Harold upon my return. After all, you have nothing to hide, Senator Ricks?” Atlas lightly said.

With an unreadable face, Senator Ricks answers, “Of course not, sir. I would never dare to do such a thing. “And with such a nod, Senator Ricks disappears leaving a rather quiet and most thoughtful Atlas.

Atlas pulls on his coat and strides out via the hidden back door. The cool walk through the narrow tunnel focuses him as he arrives into a second car garage filled with his security team. Atlas climbs into a luxury cruiser as the door clicks behind him and the rest of the guard detail enters the surrounding vehicles. The motorcade rolls forward through the tunnels for some time before finally exiting from out underneath the mountain.

Atlas pulls out his phone as the guards put on earplugs to not listen to the following conversation. The phone begins to ring and is swiftly answered only on the second ring. “Yes, sir?” Harold swiftly said.

Atlas glances out into the dark night and says, “Harold, why are you watching Senator Ricks?”

Harold on the other end of the phone almost drops his phone. He is silent for a moment gaining his bearings before replying. “Sir, I apologize for disobeying your orders, but I would have called you with the news later this evening.” Harold hesitates, before carefully saying, “Senator Ricks either has lost control of the asset or destroyed it.”

Atlas leans back into the leather seats at Harold’s response. Frowning, he remains silent digesting the answer as a trace of worry flickers momentarily in his eyes. “I will overlook this blatant lack of disregard, Harold. But only just this once. Please continue,” Atlas sternly said.

Harold lets out a clenched breath and says, “Sir, are you aware that that on March 23rd there was a prison break and three prisoners were classified as dead?”

Atlas hand reflexively tightens around the phone as the silence deepens in response. “I was just as dubious as you were, sir. I understand that many prisoners at the secure facility do not officially exist and are of a highly classified nature that their names cannot be written down as such. But there are some procedures that should not have been disregarded and were undoubtedly were pointedly ignored.

The first strange note was that Block C became thrice as guarded and only one prisoner warranted that type of actions, the asset. Now either the asset had escaped and been captured in which case the millions spent on creating an inescapable prison would have to be rethought. Or the asset had been terminated accidentally in the recapture. Each of these results would have nonetheless been needed to be reported and Senator Ricks failed to do so. And not only did he fail to do so, but attempted to withhold said information of the situation up and impeded my ongoing investigations at every turn, sir,” Harold crisply said with great relish.

Atlas lips tighten with irritation. “Is that all?” Atlas coldly asked.

“No, sir. There is one more item that is to be noted. The senator was looking into Sheriff Hadfield, Mary Hadfield’s husband,” Harold quietly added.

Atlases forehead deepens with furrows as he straightens up. “Sheriff Hadfield?” Atlas exclaimed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Harold. The senator was vetoed many times but have another closer look. I want this down quietly and without a trace, unlike this situation.”

“Yes, sir, it would be my pleasure,” Harold gleefully replied as the call pointedly ends. Harold smiles wolfishly to himself as he dials another number. A woman’s voice picks up and whines, “Harold, if I have to have one more dinner date with that fat little man, I QUIT!”

“Giselle, pack your bags. You are going to get a personal swing at the Senator,” Harold warmly said.

Giselle lets out a low chuckle. “My, oh my. I wonder just what the good senator did to make our Lord and Master remove my taut leash? Well, it will shortly be my business to know. I take it that all expenses are to be paid and nothing is to be nay said?” Giselle softly said.

“Correct,” Harold crisply said.

“It’s been a while since I used the old girls,” Giselle gently said as she ran her eyes lovingly over the open shining case filled with impeccable oiled, sharp glistening daggers and various other weapons including a firearm with a silencer.

“Yes, but Giselle, no mistakes. This is not official and therefore there is to be no trail leading back, no matter what happens,” Harold warningly said.

“Relax, Harold, I’m a professional,” Giselle sincerely said as she runs her hands tenderly over a sharp knife. She lets out a soft pleasurable gasp as her finger is nicked by the sharpness of the blade. She licks the blood off of her finger and says, “I can assure you, Harold, I will not miss this rare opportunity given to me. Because I’m not about to cut short and ruin my fun.”

A loud click shows that the call has been terminated as Giselle closes the case on her weapons. She swiftly heads to the closet and picks out an identity for herself. Satisfied, she dials a phone, the phone begins to ring, before a woman says, “Senator Ricks Campaign Center, how may we help you?”

Giselle purses her lips and in a charming, southern belle voice says, “Hello Miss, I’m Daisy May LaRue and I’d just love to join Senator Ricks campaign. I’m willing to donate a substantial amount and work pro-bono. But most especially, I’m wondering if it’s at all possible to work on site, I’m even willing to put in the late hours and be the coffee girl.”

The campaign volunteer brightens up and says, “I don’t see that as a problem, Miss LaRue. We’re always looking for volunteers to help with the cause. But first what is the pledge amount being contributed to the campaign, Miss?”

“Why of course and thank you, dear. Please put me down for $10,000,” Giselle drawled. The campaign volunteer eagerly writes down the large amount and processes the transaction. After giving other needed information and so forth, the call ends. In fact, 12 hours later, a pretty blond with blue eyes arrived at the volunteer campaign center headquarters in so very much need of assistance. Why Miss LaRue quite literally rose through the ranks within hours, becoming an invaluable asset to the campaign.