Agent Foster straight in the eye. “He had been ranting and raving all morning, his suit jacket unbuttoned and that horrible red tie flapping in the wind.  First about that damned border wall, and then about the press. He threw that scrawny screech owl of a spokesperson out of his office that morning, which, sad to say, was the only sane thing he’d done in months. His toupee had gone crooked and looked like it was about to fall off his head because he kept running his finger through it. He kept going on about people being disloyal. About how everyone was questioning his judgment when they knew that he was in charge. That he was right and everyone else was wrong and how he was the only one who could fix things and make them right again. It was… scary. It was as if he had lost all reason.”...

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