You Ain't Goin' Nowhere
"Another Scotch? Don't mind if I do." Jack refills his glass and grins as he swirls the liquid. Even if he did not respect and admire Adam Schiff like a father, he would still love working for him for the simple reason that the man has the best damn Scotch he's ever tasted.
"No. Time to go. Leave the politics to you. Watch my grandkids play. I'm getting too old for this shit."
Jack's booze-fogged brain tries to grasp the idea. A DA's office without Adam Schiff? He slugs the Scotch – he stopped sipping three drinks ago – and hopes he's drunk enough to just be imagining this.
"You won't leave, Adam. It's in your blood."
He's said it before. He wonders how much longer it'll work.