He continued down the sidewalk, felt his tie flare up before him, in the breeze,and saw a big, black SUV to his left, parked on the side of the street. He stepped over onto the grass section, next to the sidewalk, and stopped in front of one of the black-tinted side windows of the SUV. The window big enough so it really didn’t distort himvery much.He flipped his tie back down, and checked the knot. Checked his collar on his button-down shirt, pulled tight his blazer, and gave a quick look at his hair. He lookedfurther down the street and -- could see the address, in large silver letters -- realized the building was only a few hundred yards away, so took off his sunglasses.Didn’t want to walk in, forgetting to take off the sunglasses.The building was one of those red brick, three or four-story office buildings -- thisone about half-a-block off Main Street -- that all towns now had. Even out where helived. A lobby. Elevators. Big plants.He walked into the entrance, pulling his blazer in tight again, and, as he waited for the elevator he again -- in the silver of the elevator doors -- gave himself a quick once-over. Didn’t want one-half of a collar unbuttoned, or some stain somewhere on a shirt.The elevator arrived, and he pressed ‘3.’The receptionist was a pleasant, middle-aged woman, and she immediatelyshowed him through the lobby, down a hallway, and -- after a knock -- on the left, inthrough big, dark, wooden doors. Double doors, where on one side, one door could belocked in place.‘Mr. Harris -- Sir Rachel -- Mr. -- or should I say, Congressman -- David Sol’e,’said the receptionist.