"He's alive. And reasonably well. For the moment, anyway."

Anders gave not a sound. He turned quickly away and busied himself with the spilled beer.

Toby lay back on the floor and hiked her skirt up to the waist-then lay there spread-eagled with eyes closed, the lovely face composed and giving no hint of the rampaging emotions within. But the closed eyes were leaking fluid.

Bolan stood over her and took a long pull at the cigarette. He nudged a bare thigh with the side of his foot and growled, "Cut it out, Toby. What's this for?"

Her voice came small and contrite. "The symbolism should be obvious. You're right and I'm wrong. So ravish me. Both of you. Go ahead."

"You're lucky it's the wrong time and place, babe," he told her.

"Sarge, sit down." Anders said. "Let's square this up."

Toby opened her eyes and blinked back the moisture as she seconded the motion. "Please."

They were apologizing. He was accepting. "Okay. You first."

"Okay, so you're right," Anders said. "The dope traffic is a fringe issue. Nick Copa has been the mission goal all along. Anything beyond that is just pure haze, at the moment."

"Of course, the heroin was a very convenient point of entry," Toby said.

"So why all the cutesy?" Bolan asked. "Why didn't you just-?"

"Know where we're at? This could just be the home of our next president. It's politically sensitive territory," Anders said.

Toby: "But of course it's almost virgin territory for the Mob."

Bolan: "There no such thing as almost a virgin."

Anders: "Call it political virginity." Toby: "It's still a virgin."

Anders: "The good old boys have just been playing with themselves all these years. So that's technical virginity, anyway. But they've been ripe for rape for a long time."

Toby: "The rape became almost inevitable when a certain young senator suddenly began achieving such high national visibility. He's likely to be a presidential nominee the next time around."

Anders: "So the stakes are pretty high." Bolan smiled soberly. "High enough to SOG it, eh."

Toby said quickly, "That's right. We weren't trying to con you, big man. But it is a highly sensitive operation. We were ordered to give it the full silk glove treatment."

"The double soft," Bolan murmured.

"Right," said Anders. "This Tennessee senator is a pretty straight guy. As clean as any but he is a politician."

Bolan asked, "Does Copa have something on the guy?"

"Not yet. Bet your ass he's trying, though." Toby said, "What he can't find, he'll try to manufacture."

Anders: "We have the feeling that he's already clubbed a few others that way. But, see, this is all damned sensitive. I mean, if we came in here blowing whistles and waving a big stick-I mean, whether the guy is straight or not, he'll get dirtied. You know how things go in political life."

Toby: "It's the law of negatives. A single accusation is worth a thousand denials."

"And there's another law," Anders added.

"The law of reversal. If we don't do this cleanly, someone is bound to start yelling about dirty tricks."

Toby: "He means dirty campaign tricks."

Anders: "Right. We can't allow the hint of dirty tricks here. It could blow sky high. If this guy does get the nomination, he'll be running against the present administration. Our orders are to safe the area."

"Very quietly," Toby added.

Anders explained "The present administration figures to be re-elected, anyway. They don't want-an emotional issue, even a false one, could swing the thing off center."

Bolan quietly asked no one in particular, "Are you people working for the White House?"

The soggers exchanged quick glances. Anders took it. He replied, "Ultimately, sure. He's the Commander in Chief, isn't he? But we serve the office, not the man."

Bolan sighed and said, "Where've I heard that before?"

"This is clean," Toby assured him.

Bolan said, "And your orders are to safe the area. What exactly does that mean?"

Anders: "Exactly what it says. We have to quietly neutralize all subversive political influences in the area."

"Subversive to whom?"

"Subversive to the national interest. We're not working for any election campaign, if that's what you're getting at. This operation is strictly on the level. It gets sensitive only if it gets political. We're supposed to keep that from happening."

"You're going to neutralize it."

"That's the idea."

"How?"

Anders sighed and shot a quick look at Toby as he replied, "Well, that is the problem, isn't it."

Toby said, "It's like toppling dominoes. If we could be sure that it is strictly a local problem-but it isn't pointing that way. And of course it is not just the politics. They-these people have a brand new playground here. And they can reach the entire world from right here. God, they're into just about everything."

Bolan said, "You better know it."

Toby told him, "We've been worried that you would take Copa out of play. Snuff him."

Anders hastened to add: "Too bad that it's not that simple. Copa is a nobody, in the national sense. We just don't know enough about the guy. Maybe he's no more than the local puppet. We cut his strings and where are we? Back to the beginning, that's where. And while we're scrambling around trying to pin the new puppet, we lose the game by default. So what's gained by a snuff?"

Toby said, "That's why Carl is so vital to the operation. We must get him inside, in a sensitive position."

Bolan softly inquired, "Via Singapore?"

"We were working another problem in that part of the world," Anders explained. "We literally fell into this Tennessee game."

Bolan said, "Stroke of luck."

"Exactly. Don't knock it. We take what we can get. A domestic outfit was already sniffing the Tennessee trail. It all came together at headquarters. So we take what we can get. Don't you?"

Bolan grinned. "Usually. I took Molly Franklin."

Toby asked, without emotion, "Dead or alive?"

He gave her a hard look. "Alive and kicking. She wanted out. I got her out."

"Wonderful. So you just called time, stopped the game, and got off to rescue a-"

Anders stopped her with a growl. "Toby! Don't start it up again!"

She replied, meekly, "Sorry."

Bolan said, "The Mob takes what they can get, too. I don't believe they came here looking for a political patsy. They came looking for the same old thing-a quick buck. Copa found his edge and moved it in. Virgin territory-yeah, maybe. But I don't see a grand conspiracy-no puppets, no puppeteers. It smells like a ground floor operation to me. The guy is trying to build something here. He has outside help, sure, but I think it's mainly in the form of financial support. Once it gets rolling-well, yeah, maybe so. Nashville could become the seat of the new empire. Right now there is no empire-none that counts. It has returned to the feudal system. Copa is no puppet. He's a lord, and this is his realm. He's the man. I believe if you took him out, right now, the whole thing would fall apart.”

"Wow," Toby said softly, with mock surprise. "He walks and talks."

Anders growled, "Knock it off, Toby." He asked Bolan, "How strong is your feel on that?"

Bolan's gaze traveled from one to the other-then he clasped hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. After a moment, he said, "I guess there's no reason to test it. We still have Carl."

"Where is Carl?"

"He's in a cabin out near Priest Reservoir." "What's his circumstances?"

"He's a prisoner of war."

"Which war?"

"The one between Nick Copa and Gordy Mazzarelli."

"How long do you plan on leaving him there?"

Bolan sighed. His gaze came down and rested briefly on each of them as he replied. "I guess that's up to you."

Anders stared thoughtfully at his own hands for a moment. Toby started to say something then changed her mind.