Ordered Agenda

ORDERED AGENDA

a Ty Montgomery novel

by

Edward Brower

Smashwords Edition

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Published on Smashwords by:

Edward Brower

Ordered Agenda

Copyright 2011 by Edward Brower

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

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Also by:

Edward Brower

Retributive Justice

Wireless

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For Andrea and Erika:

Two of the most extraordinary women I have ever known.

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"What makes the moon orbit the earth?

Why is the mountain side green?

How come a baby cries at its birth?

Where is Loves’ beauty not seen"

EAB At Devotion 1982

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Part One

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Part Two

22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32

Part Three

33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40

Part Four

41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61

Epilogue

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Acknowledgements

A novel is seldom the work of the author alone, but usually a collaborative effort of many. This book is no exception. I need to acknowledge the efforts of T.J. Lowi of Cornell University, Ben Ginsberg of Johns Hopkins University, and Ken Shepsle of Harvard University for the background information contained in their book: American Government Power and Purpose.

Secondly I must thank Wm. Isasi Esq., staff attorney for the Honorable Senator from Arizona for his personal contributions relative to Capitol Hill procedures. Also his twin brother Fredrick Isasi Esq. attorney of the US Dept. of Commerce for his informative tour and introduction to the US Supreme Court and its involved workings.

Additionally, I must gratefully acknowledge my friends and family who have helped shape this and my previous two stories with their constructive input. Larry Snow, Byrd and Dianne Wenman, David and Linda Jordan, Wayne Peeples, Dr. Robert Rosen MD, Dan Brower, Dr. Steven Smith, and all of the others who have previewed the manuscripts and otherwise provided valuable advice and support.

•

Finally, my devoted thanks to my editors, Lauren Mosley and Hao Minh Nguyen for their expertise and for having red penned each and every page turning this manuscript into its present form.

Of course my deepest gratitude goes to my wife Nancy whose support, encouragement, and guidance helped direct the story from its inception through completion.

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Prologue

Just before 10:00 p.m., the man was completely alone, sitting in his massive yet austerely decorated office on the second floor of 950 Pennsylvania Avenue. Today marked the third anniversary of his appointment and subsequent confirmation by the Senate. As an amateur scholar of early American History and head of the United States Department of Justice, Harrison Franklin Randolph, the 83rd American attorney general, couldn’t help but ponder his ancestral roots.

Randolph was a distant genetic ricochet of his sixth great-grandfather, Edmund Jennings Randolph, who had served as the nation’s first attorney general under Presidents Washington and Adams. E.J. Randolph was the second cousin of Thomas Jefferson and a brother-in-law of Aaron Burr. General Randolph resigned his position during a dispute with Washington and Adams over the Jay Treaty with the British in 1795.

After his resignation, E.J. Randolph’s most noted legal case was successfully gaining the acquittal of his brother-in-law client, Aaron Burr, before the US Supreme Court. Burr had been wrongfully accused of treason by President Thomas Jefferson. Many believed that Jefferson was seeking personal retribution against Burr, a political enemy who served as vice president in the Jefferson administration. Political skullduggery and maneuvering was very much alive and well, even during the country’s formative years, Harrison Randolph mused. His attention had drifted from the agenda of his upcoming meeting while he reflected on these historical matters.

The rift between Jefferson and Burr grew not from conflicting philosophical or political ideologies, but rather from Burr’s challenge of Jefferson’s ascent to the Presidency. After Washington and Adams, political tradition suggested that only a previously elected vice president should fill the office of president. Adams followed Washington into the office, and Jefferson had just completed serving as vice president under John Adams. When the upstart Burr vied for the office of the third president of the United States, Jefferson became more than slightly annoyed. As a matter of fact, when the presidential election ended with an equal number of electoral votes going to Jefferson and Burr, Jefferson became considerably upset. Further, after the election was thrown over to the House of Representatives for resolution, thirty-six consecutive ballots in the House again resulted in a tie! After some questionable maneuvering, Jefferson managed to be elected president by a single vote on the thirty-seventh ballot, while Burr was elected vice president. There was little love lost between the third US president and his second in command.

History and politics do have a unique way of repeating themselves, Randolph thought. As a young lawyer, but a jurist of noteworthy import, Harrison F. Randolph had been instrumental in securing former President Clinton’s acquittal in his Senate trial for impeachment. This accomplishment paid off with an appointment to the federal bench by Clinton, as well as Randolph’s subsequent selection as attorney general by current President Hayes.

Since the close of World War I, an invisible and silent Order had lurked in the shadows of world power. Since its inception, the Order had been composed of patriotic, influential, secretive, and mysterious individuals with greater power than any elected politicians. The absolute and total exercise of that power was now the only hope for the salvation of the free-enterprise system and the American dream, which had become a dreaded nightmare. Soon, the Order would no longer remain invisible or silent.

The Order’s next meeting, and the results thereof, would have a far-reaching effect on America’s future and its citizens’ way of life. Not unlike his ancestor, the founding father that had devised and introduced the Virginia Plan, which later became the first draft of the US Constitution, Harrison Franklin Randolph and his associates would introduce a new plan, and its imposition would be totally unparalleled.

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PART ONE

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Chapter 1

The sun crawled up over the edge of the eastern horizon, ablaze with a brilliant band of tangerine clouds. The sixty-foot Energizer cruised effortlessly on a course of 270 degrees just off the coast of West End, Grand Bahamas, beginning its six-hour return voyage to the Florida coast. Pete Zorn, the Sportfish’s skipper, was happy to be returning home after a seven-day fishing excursion in the Western Bahamas. With seas running at two feet or less, he guessed they would clear US Customs in Palm Beach and drop off a passenger there by noon. Then, they would motor north up the Intracoastal Waterway towards home, the Crystal Coast of North Carolina. It had been almost a year since the boss and Energizer’s owner, Tyler Montgomery, had opted for a Bahamas trip. Their featured guest and soon-to-be departing passenger was the Honorable Harrison Franklin Randolph. Frank, as they had called him for the past several days, had been successful in landing multiple sailfish and dolphin near Bimini, Cat Cay, and Great Isaacs Light, as well as a citation blue marlin the previous day three miles off the tip of West End.

Pete had double-checked his charts and set the Energizer’s GPS autopilot soon after the group of four had finished a delectable breakfast of eggs, hash browns, pan-fried yellowtail, and coffee. The group consisted of the crew—Pete, his interim first mate Jacque Devereaux, and Ty of course—and their special guest the attorney general. Pete knew that Ty had some prominent and influential friends, since most of them had been invited to fish aboard at one time or another in the past, but this elite guest was the highest ranking of the dignitaries Pete had had the pleasure to serve. Unless of course one counted North Carolina’s US Senator Dick Burr, who had made many trips with them, starting when he was just a first-term congressman.

Frank’s the first of Ty’s friends to actually act like a dignitary, Pete thought. By appearance, Frank was leading-man handsome, and Pete guessed he was well over six-foot-four, judging from the way the man had to duck when entering the boat’s head. At first, he seemed a bit obnoxious, with the personality of a blocked nostril, but that impression changed shortly after they got underway. Once Frank got into his boat clothes, grabbed a beer, and got offshore, Pete quickly sized the man up as just a regular guy, though he did use a lot of big words and was obviously more than moderately intelligent. After listening to Ty and Frank discuss everything from religion to politics, Pete decided that he liked the man and was very pleased to be serving as his captain and guide. Pete had been especially keen on what Frank had opined about organized religion: Religion should serve as a compass and not a control or restraint.

Pete was raised as a strict Southern Baptist but had more or less discarded any relationship to organized religion as soon as he moved out of his parents’ home and married Anna Marie. Mentally logging Frank’s distinction between compass and control, Pete settled back on the bridge, hardly discerning the water’s change in color as the Energizer penetrated the cobalt blue Gulf Stream at over thirty miles per hour.

Lost in his thoughts of the up- coming two-day journey up the Intracoastal from Florida to North Carolina, Pete was jolted as Jacque Devereaux’s head came popping up through the hatch as the mate climbed up to join him on the bridge.

Pete, did you see those two loggerheads we just passed? What do you think those guys are doing way out here? We gotta be at least twenty or more miles offshore by now, don’t we? Jacque shouted over the roar of the twin 600 horsepower diesels.

Glancing at his navigation screen, Pete laughed and responded, More like 31.5 miles. Yeah, I saw ‘em. Two females, I’d guess making their way to a lonesome sandy beach on the Florida coast somewhere almost 200 miles from here to lay eggs. They do that, ya know, every so often. Pete chuckled.

I’ve heard about that! Jacque said. Their internal navigation systems are really something. I read that those turtles lay eggs on the same beach they were hatched on. That’s pretty awesome.

Is the galley all squared away? Everything secured? the captain queried.

Sure thing, Pete. I made those guys a fresh pot of coffee too. Ty was showing the AG the Pflueger catalog and the pricing for two trophy mounts he wants to put in his office in Washington. I checked the fish box before I came up and both of the billfish are completely covered in ice. They’ll make him some nice trophies. A marlin and a sail on the same trip! Not bad, huh Pete?

Nope, not bad at all. Ty kinda surprised me though, ya know? He usually doesn’t let anybody kill billfish on his boat. Snapshot or tag and release only. I guess it’s because of who his friend is, and because it’s his first big game fish. They should mount up nice, but it’s gonna cost him big bucks to get ‘em stuffed.

Jacque thought about that for a second and said, You know, you’re right, Pete. I’ve been in both Ty’s homes and he doesn’t have a single mount in either place. I know he can afford the expense, and I’ve heard that he’s caught big trophy fish all over the world. What’s with that?

Ty only keeps what he can eat or give to friends. He won’t kill any fish big or small if he’s not gonna eat ‘em. He rarely keeps any in his freezer either. He thinks the fish keep better swimmin’ in the water than in the freezer! At home, if we ever catch more than he wants, he gives ‘em to me and my first mate for us to either eat or sell at the fish market for extra cash. Ty’s a sport fisherman all right, but he’s pretty much a conservationist too. That’s why I said it surprised me when he let his friend kill those fish. Neither one are any good eatin’, and Ty don’t really condone trophy collectin’!

You know, I can understand that. Since Ty’s retired and owns this boat, I guess he can get all the fresh fish he wants any time he wants, can’t he? You gotta respect him for throwing so many back.

Me too! Matter of fact, that’s one of the big reasons I came to work for Ty as his private captain. I’ve earned my livin’ fishin’ since I was a boy, and when it comes to protectin’ our natural resources, Ty Montgomery’s first rate. I’m really proud to skipper for him. Here, take the wheel for a minute, Jacque. I gotta go below and pee and get me a cup of that fresh coffee. The autopilot’s on, so just be sure not to run into any other boats or over any sea turtles out here, will ya?

Aye, aye, Skip. I got it. No sweat till you get back.

•

Below, Harrison Frank Randolph sat in the well-appointed salon, across from his friend and former law school classmate. As soon as Captain Pete had poured himself a cup of steaming black coffee and headed back up to the bridge, Frank continued to seek answers and advice from Tyler E. Montgomery, his trusted host.

Ty, where do you stand personally on the notion of term limits for members of Congress?

Well that came out of nowhere, Frank. What makes you ask me that? Ty replied.

I’ve always respected your opinion on political issues, Ty, and I’ve known since law school that you’re a bit of a constitutional buff. I’ve been asked by the leader of the House Republican Caucus for a legal opinion next week, and I’d like to hear your take on the subject.

I’m flattered, Frank, especially coming from the attorney general of the United States and a former federal judge. I really think that the provisions of the Twenty-second Amendment, back in 1951, should have included Congress as well, instead of being limited to just the office of president. And, basically for the same reasons, I think too much power distributed among too few people tends to make our system of government less than what it should be.

You think the Framers and Founding Fathers were ‘slack’ on term limits or that perhaps they lacked the wisdom to foresee the evolution of the professional politician?

Ty chuckled and commented in jest, I don’t guess the Framers and Founding Fathers much believed in evolution of any kind! But seriously, times were different then. They couldn’t imagine anyone volunteering to serve in public office for more than a couple of terms, considering the low pay, the lack of perks, and their responsibilities to their families. Those drawbacks had to create hardships while they served their government in Washington. Most if not all of those guys agreed to sacrifice their own personal lives out of a sense of patriotic duty to the new nation rather than as a career goal. Of course, it didn’t take ‘em very long to learn how to feather their own nests, did it? Again, laughing lightheartedly, Ty continued. The whole political scene was quite different then, as you know, Frank. Hell, only white, male, property-owning citizens could vote in federal elections. They represented less than 6% of the population!

Smiling, but not at all sharing Ty’s lighthearted reaction to the question, Randolph pursued further. There’s been a few up on the Hill who have been trying to figure out a way to introduce the idea of congressional term limits into legislation. They spurned the legal question and wanted my opinion from that standpoint. They’re calling it the ‘Term Limits Act,’ which would effectively make it illegal for any one individual to serve more than three terms or six years in the House, and one single term of six years in the Senate. What do you think about that idea, Ty? Would you personally favor such limits?

Observing the serious look on Frank’s face, Ty took a sip of his coffee and thought for a few moments before he answered. I’d be all for it! I doubt it would have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever passing either house of Congress, but it sure would change the way things work in Washington, wouldn’t it? No more good ole boys deal-making in smoky back rooms. No more powerful holds on committee assignment allocations, a hell of a lot less lobbying influence, and some automatic changes in campaign financing. There’d be major changes in the way the legislative branch operates, that’s for sure. I’d be willing to bet the vast majority of voters would love to see it happen.

With his eyebrows seeming to crawl down his forehead, Frank nodded in agreement. What about the constitutionality of such a law? Without an amendment to the Constitution, do you think such a law would be challenged before the Supreme Court? If so, how do you think the court would rule on such a challenge?

Taking some time with his answer in a sincere attempt to scour his keen legal mind, Ty lit a cigarette and refreshed his coffee from the pot on the galley warmer. First of all, he began, "I can’t see such a law being contrary to any provision of our Constitution as it is now written. But as with any new legislation, one can never forget the inevitable law of unintended consequences. I’m sure any court would have to consider all future potentials before any ruling. I can’t see any individual politico raising a challenge if the law were enacted. It would be political suicide to do so. However, I can imagine one or both of the major political parties raising the issue. After all, such limited terms of office would drastically change how they do business, wouldn’t it?

An agreeable smile warmed Randolph’s face. He glanced at his watch, and then asked Ty, How much longer do you think it’ll be till we get to Florida? I have another topic I’d like your opinion about—one that may require a little more discussion. Do you mind?

Not a bit, Ty replied. We’ve got a few more hours, maybe three or four, I’d say. Plenty of time to discuss whatever’s on your mind. I always enjoy sharing my opinions with you, Frank. What do ya wanna discuss?

Randolph opened his thin alligator-hide briefcase and passed Ty three documents written on legal-sized parchment. They were titled, respectively, The Sherman Act (1890), The Clayton Antitrust Act (1914), and the third The Robinson-Patman Act (1931).

Read over these, just for a quick review, will you, Ty? I have to excuse myself for a few moments and hit the head. The question I’d like you to consider is this: do you think these existing laws, which have already been challenged constitutionally and upheld by our highest court, can be construed to make political parties, as they exist today, absolutely unlawful?

A look of total surprise befell Ty’s face as he craned his neck, watching Harrison Franklin Randolph get up and start down the stairs towards the Energizer’s head. As he heard the head door snap closed, he blinked his eyes a couple of times and began to skim the Sherman Act.

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Chapter 2

For more than fifty years, the Economist, like his father before him, had maneuvered and moved within the shadows of the great global powers. Outside his impressive estate house in Virginia, not far from the DC Beltway, the cloak of night began to lift in the predawn hours. It was just one week before his crucial presentation. His expertise in the domestic national economy was unparalleled, and it went unquestioned by his fellow members of an enigmatic association they referred to as the Order. As a fraternity of like-minded, powerful, persuasive men, the group enjoyed their anonymity, eschewing anything at all that was publicly or politically controversial. The combined personal wealth of the group exceeded that of most nations on the planet. Together, they effectively controlled the world’s most essential industries: petroleum and petrochemicals, arms and munitions, pharmaceuticals, alcohol and tobacco, communications, mining, and agriculture.

Until now, the Order had been infinitely patient with the leaders of the American government and most of its petty, self-serving, and abysmally shortsighted politicians. The American economy—and, due to others’ dependence upon it, the global economy—was in serious jeopardy of collapse. Uncontrolled spending and accumulation of debt far outpaced any possible economic ability of government to sustain status quo. Immediate action was not only warranted, but the system of free enterprise itself depended on it.

Zachary Smith Goldman had been preparing his plan for the restoration and stabilization of the American economy for over a month. Today he would review his presentation of that plan for the next meeting of the members of his tight-knit group. He had never considered himself a brilliant master of financial management or economics, but his advice to the others was always well heeded and respected as coming from a genius in practical macroeconomics. He was a pragmatist of sorts and very much opinionated, often repeating to himself and those close to him, "Until I believe otherwise, I will continue to act upon what I believe." To most this sounded incredibly conceited and egotistical, but to those who knew the extent and depth of study that he devoted to forming his beliefs, he was never mistaken for an unwise man. His business associates thought he had a dogmatic and self-righteous spirit with a great capacity for indignation. It was with substantial thought that he prepared this presentation of facts, projections, and logical conclusions.

Goldman had always been an early riser, and this particular morning he was at his desktop computer beginning the scripted outline of his PowerPoint presentation. He had been given a simple charge by the group: Without regard to any outside, obscure, or cryptic variables, or any special interest group whatsoever, he was to design a new plan for a balanced federal budget. The budget had to be practicable for immediate implementation, as well as sustainable for a minimum of fifty years. The plan must include a new taxation system, a government-spending limit that would not exceed revenues in any given year, and the establishment of a contingency or rainy day fund. Additionally, he was to include a strategy for the retirement of all existing government debt within the next five years. The idea was that any future government borrowing would be limited to a total amount of a single year’s revenue including minimum interest. On the surface, the plan sounded like an unreachable goal, but Goldman was certain he had accomplished the task.

He began his outline with a one-sentence premise:

In Order to accomplish the monumental goals included in balancing the federal budget while simultaneously retiring the enormous existing federal debt, as well as future interest obligations thereon, we must considerably increase government revenues while we contemporaneously and dramatically reduce government spending.

Before Goldman began his first outline point, he noticed a small LED on his desk console illuminate and then blink. He had received an encrypted message on his secure email server. The message was from one of his furtive fraternal associates. He immediately stopped what he was doing in order to read the contents and forward the information to the next member, as was the custom of the Order. The approved chain of events had begun. The head of the Russian Mafia and his entire family had been successfully assassinated. Control of the Russian banking monopoly had been solely held by the now-deceased Pakhan, Semion Mogilevich. Many of his underlings and extended-family members were currently engaged in an idiotic scramble for control. Financially, it was nothing short of a giant cluster-fuck, and the threat assessment of a quick collapse of the former Soviet Union’s entire banking system was high. The Russian banks effectively owned over a trillion dollars worth of US Treasury securities, equaling almost one sixth of total foreign ownership of the US debt obligations. It had been up to the Order’s capable Expediter to ensure that this portion of the debt was permanently retired without cost.

Goldman returned to his presentation outline as soon as he forwarded the encrypted message to his associate in New York. At the top of the next page, he wrote:

Gross Federal Revenues Projected, Fiscal 2010

(Congressional Budget Office)

Total-revenues (receipts)...............................$2.384 trillion

Total-spending (expenses).............................$3.550 trillion

One-year-annual-deficit................................$1.166 trillion

Outstanding national debt:

To-individuals, corporations, pension-funds & State governments

.......................................................................$3.014 trillion

To foreign governments and international institutions

......................................................................$3.860 trillion

To itself (US government agencies & funds)

.....................................................................$6.826 trillion

Total outstanding debt................................$13.70 trillion

Annual interest due on total outstanding debt

....................................................................$414.5 billion

As Goldman completed making the entries on the second page of his outline, he slowly shook his head and laughed out loud to himself. Only in America could this economic mirage be considered anything short of the most diabolically contrived scam ever conceived.

Approximately half of the national debt was owed to the US government itself, while at the same time, the same government continued to borrow from itself and mysteriously repay itself with interest, always continuing to spend more than it took in year after year. And while the government managed to pull off this public sleight of hand, it continued to attract investors and borrow more money; all based on the full faith and credit of the US Government. Absolutely amazing and astonishing, Goldman thought. Ponzi himself couldn’t have managed to proffer a more incredible scheme.

The power of taxation not only allowed the government of, by, and for its people to redistribute the nation’s wealth but also enabled it to successfully attract investors to purchase the debt that it incurred while doing so. By any definition, the US government was insolvent and technically bankrupt. Under current conditions, including what was commonly referred to as entitlements and mandatory spending; the US government could not begin to repay its gross national debt without borrowing additional money. As absurd as it was, the government had to continue borrowing from itself. Again laughing to himself, Goldman thought of how the nation’s elected leaders managed to continue rewarding themselves so substantially, providing for their own comfortable retirement after only five years of service. The entire magical illusion the American bureaucracy had been performing before citizens’ very eyes, beginning with the New Deal of the 1930s, would soon be exposed and appropriately renamed The Mystery Marvel Plan that failed everyone.

One of the base provisions of Goldman’s new economic plan would be to cancel all debt the US government owed itself and make it unlawful for the government to ever again use its own IOUs to provide balance sheet entries for its agencies and trust funds. It would be the end of the three-card Monte game. This would reduce the outstanding government debt by half, together with interest payable on that debt, by the simple stroke of a pen, and it wouldn’t cost a single tax dollar to accomplish. The remaining debt would be dealt with appropriately, but there would be a price tag for that.

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Chapter 3

Jennifer Westland, the petite junior Attaché to the US Ambassador to Russia, waited near the CIA’s private jet just after arriving from Moscow. She had loaded two bags: a small travel bag containing her personal clothing and toiletry items, and a much larger suitcase that was mounted on wheels. As a member of the diplomatic corps, her baggage wasn’t subject to a Customs search at Reagan National Airport. A chauffeur-driven black Lincoln limousine slowly approached on the tarmac.

She had been informed before departure that transportation would be provided by the State Department motor pool, at the Ambassador’s request. The other passengers, three low-level CIA employees attached to the Moscow embassy, walked towards the main airport terminal and public transportation area. Jennifer felt quite privileged to have VIP service arranged by the Ambassador. The Lincoln’s driver greeted her courteously, and after the copilot removed her luggage from the baggage compartment, he helped load both bags into the vehicle’s trunk. The driver then opened the rear door for her, nodding a warm invitation.

Assuming the driver would deliver her directly to the Department of State’s Foreign Service Office, Jennifer paid no attention as they exited the airport terminal by driving west, away from the Capitol. She opened her carry-on briefcase, removed her laptop, and placed the briefcase on the maroon leather seat beside her. She had not been able to check her personal email during the nine-hour flight, nor had she taken the time to do so the evening before she left.

Balancing the computer on her knees, she was more than tickled that her wi-fi connection indicated such a strong signal. In Russia, it only worked occasionally outside of the American embassy compound. Jennifer had four new messages in her inbox, two of which were from her sister in Philadelphia. After reading the second lengthy email from her sister and looking at the ten photos of her twin nieces attached to it, she looked out the heavily tinted side window of the speeding Lincoln and noticed a road sign welcoming drivers to Reston, Virginia. Having previously lived in the DC area for years before her assignment in Russia, she realized they were certainly not headed for the Foreign Service Office. An uncomfortable premonition pervaded her senses.

"Ahem, excuse me,