Cheers and the noisy chatter of debate echoed through the corridors of the Congress Building.
Just as Leo Wallace was about to leave, a hand shot out and seized his arm in a death grip.
It was an old hand, covered in liver spots, but its strength was astonishing.
Leo turned his head.
Daniel Sanders was standing in the shadows.
The Progressive leader, who had just won a victory inside, showed no hint of joy on his face.
He ignored the aides and reporters surging forward to congratulate him. Instead, he gave a hard tug, dragging Leo into a quiet side corridor.
Seeing their movement, the nearby aides and reporters tactfully stopped in their tracks.
On Capitol Hill, these moments of private conversation were sacrosanct. No one would be foolish enough to intrude and look for trouble.
They rounded a corner, and the uproar was cut off by the thick walls.
This was a dead end in the Congress Building, a place rarely visited.
