Sandra was the first one to break the silence."I was not expecting you to be here. I kind of figured you were screwing my girlfriend silly right about...now."Sandra tried to sound carefree but I could tell she was upset."Sandra, we..." I replied but Sandra interrupted me."Shit. Jessica couldn't do it because of the rape, could she? Is she okay? I know the number of her counse..." Sandra. Let me finish. This has nothing to do with the rape. You and I need to have a little talk," I interrupted her. I sat down on the chair facing the group and waited. Slowly my first choice walked forward to stand in front of me, eyes cast down in a submissive stance. I lifted her chin and looked at her, then made a motion with my hand towards her clothing. She quickly removed what little she had on, and then stood with feet spread and hands behind her back for my inspection. Her body was, as I imagined, nothing spectacular, yet pleasant. She had small breasts, a little pouch, shaved in accordance with. All that posed a set of problems on its own - campaign headquarters - where and how big? How many people would it take? Did it need to be near Washington or could it be on the Eastern Shore?The shore made sense in a way. All the overnight freight companies had terminals at Morton. Posters, handouts, printed material and things to set up offices could be on their way across the nation in minutes.In the meantime I had other problems to deal with, a new government for Iran to work on, a problem. These people had jackets with big yellow letters that read CSB on the back. They must have come to interview him after the incident. We approached as a pair of investigators were exiting the room. ‘Excuse me, are you here to see him?’ One gentleman asked. ‘Yes, he’s a good friend of mine and we wanted to see how he’s doing,’ I replied. ‘Do you work with him?’ He asked in a rather annoying tone. It had a sense of ‘this is more important than your visit’. ‘I do.’ ‘Can we get a statement from.