Hal Carson doesn't get as many phone calls these days. Not as many that are related to what he considers his real vocation, anyhow.

Politics.

When he got a phone call from Senator Fred Atwood late last night, therefore, he acted as fast as he could, doing the only thing he knew to do (and it doesn't count as a betrayal; Rosse wouldn't mind seeing Tam gone, either, so it's all right), which was to make contact and set up a personal appointment for the relaying of extremely sensitive information.

Extremely valuable information, too.

The meeting is over, though, and Carson flips up the collar on his coat as he turns down the alley -- best not to be seen.

(He has no idea that he resembles a bad cliché.)