Out of the Ashes

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“Are you nuts?” Ben Raines asked, fighting back an urge to laugh in the man’s face. “I mean, honest to God, fellow, have you got both oars in the water?”

The sarcastic slur and intellectual insult was lost on the visitor. “I assure you, Mr. Raines, I am in full command of all my faculties. You came highly recommended to me. To us.”

“By whom?”

“I cannot divulge that information. Not just yet. I am sorry.”

“How do you know I won’t go straight to the FBI with this… scheme of yours?”

The man pointed. “There is the phone. Call them. You can’t prove a thing. But we can—about you.” He smiled.

“The FBI knows damned well I was a mercenary back in ‘69 and ‘70. So does the State Department. I made that very clear in several of my novels. Blackmail won’t work with me.”

The man shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

“Look,” Ben said, “I don’t like the way this country is going any more than you do—believe that, or not. But violent overthrow—even if you people had the men and equipment, which you don’t—is not my forte.”

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