PROLOGUE

The package had arrived. Inside was a plain manila folder. He opened it and found only a single photograph with a note attached. The photo was of a very attractive black female exiting a Georgetown townhouse in Washington, D.C. She was dressed smartly in a white Tory Burch trench coat and Christian Louboutin high heels and was obviously unaware that she was being photographed since she was deeply engrossed in conversation on her cell phone.

The man looked closely at the picture. He didn't recognize the woman and wondered if she was someone famous. She didn't look famous. Perhaps she was a lobbyist? Yes, that must be it. But why would his contact have sent him this photo? When he had asked his contact to find something, anything, on President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant that could be used to bring the most powerful man on the planet to his knees, the man holding the photograph didn't know what would turn up. And now here it was, a snapshot of a very attractive black female.

The man sighed. This wasn't enough. Perhaps finding the President's fatal flaw was going to be harder than he originally thought.

He picked up the photo to put it back in the folder when he noticed the note, a piece of blue paper folded in half. Inside there was only a single sentence. He opened it and read: "She's the one."