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constituted
admissible evidence in criminal trials.
    Occasional
unexplained explosions in campus parking lots in the dark of night were written
off as student pranks, and she simply threw away the video footage she'd gotten
from the dean's bathroom; there was no good use for that.
    Over the years,
George Pierce had hooked her up with various opportunities to do what she
loved. Each time, she grew more comfortable in her clandestine career. Learning
people’s secrets and giving them to political opponents became first
comfortable for her and then an art form.
    She tailed a
candidate home from the bar and called in a DUI to derail his campaign. She
could walk right behind two people and have them never know someone was
listening. Breaking into an office to plant spy software on computers was often
her preferred way to get the job done, but it was only one of many.
    George put her
in touch with others who needed skills like hers, who then put her in touch
with still others. Her name was never known. Yet, for those who knew the right
people, contact with Alyssa was something that could make or break a political
career.
    Her friendship
with Matt became a professional asset. Even though they were both still only
halfway through school, he was trying to get an early start on his career. He
took freelance writing work whenever he could and was building a good
relationship with a number of different editors. It helped Alyssa to be able to
slip documents under his dorm door now and then when a client wanted some facts
to make their way into the media.
    Of course, as
always, friendship with Matt was a double-edged sword. He was useful sometimes,
but he still wanted more from her than she wanted to give. It was becoming
something of an annoyance.
    One night,
Alyssa found herself in the middle of an argument with him – the same argument
they had been having since high school.
    "Look,
Matt, I don’t want a husband. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t even want
friends. How many times are you going to keep coming back to this? It’s not
going to change."
    "But
Alyssa, we’re such a good fit. We both…"
    "Stop, OK?
I’ve heard it. I’ve heard it and heard it. We grew up together, we both like
politics, we both have trouble with our fathers… you keep pointing all that out
without listening to me! I like to be alone. I need to be alone. You
don’t even have the first foggy clue of why I can’t have someone in my life who
gets too clear a picture of me. The first requirement of a good fit is that
both parties feel like they need someone or something. I don’t."
    Her cell phone
picked that moment to ring. Matt looked like he wanted and expected her to
ignore it. Both to vent some of her anger and to communicate something to him,
she picked up the phone, stomped down the hall, and slammed the door to her
bedroom before answering it.
    It was George
Pierce.
    "I’ve got
someone I want you to meet," he said. "I’m moving up in the world.
I’m a consultant for a few different campaigns now. Lance is running for
Senate, and he’s got a new campaign manager. I figured you’d want to meet him
since he’s got some work that needs doing that’s kind of up your alley."
    "Of
course. It’s hard to make money without clients. Just make sure he understands
my rules."
    Pierce gave her
a chuckle. "You get more paranoid every time we talk."
    "Wouldn’t
you, if you did what I do?"
    "Probably,
but I doubt I’d be as skilled at it."
    "Can we
meet tonight?" she asked. She named a parking garage that she knew to be
poorly lit.
    Walking back
out of her bedroom, she found Matt still waiting for her.
    "Are you
still here? We’ve had our argument – again. For like the tenth time. Go home. I
answered you. Please stop asking every time the season changes."
    The agreed-upon
meeting-time was closer to dawn than to dusk. Chambers went to the darkened
parking garage and broke a couple of lights to make sure the visibility was
next to nothing.
    She hid