Miami, Florida, Wednesday…

"I told you that I don't like to lose money."

Stephanie Williams tipped up her sunglasses and looked Vladimir Kalinin straight in the eye.

"You're a fool sometimes, do you know that? If you discredit John Fulton and his policies, you'll have an adverse effect on my electibility."

"Maybe I could work better with one of your opponents." He looked across the pool to a striking brunette that reminded him of Daniela. He would have to see her again sometime. It would be like starting fresh again with her, since she no longer remembers who I am. "You have always misunderstood me, I think. I really want it all."

"No, you misunderstand me. I can bury you, Vladimir. I know about all your little pet projects, your crooked deals. I have enough evidence on you to get you the death penalty in thirty-one states. Don't fuck with me, you bastard. You'll lose."

"I'd much rather fuck you, though I'd probably wear you out, old woman." He waved expansively at the Miami skyline, ignoring her frown. "Your priorities are all wrong. You, and hundreds of politicians like you, think it's all about power. It's not about that at all. It's not about money either. You have no idea what really motivates me."

"So why the emphasis on power and money? Why don't you go to Tibet and become a Buddhist monk?"