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situation was far more detrimental to his survival than all those foamers at the airport—or Richard Holmes.
    “Well, as you more than aware, Mr. President, there’s been a slight change in the order of things.”
    “What? Did you say ‘president’?” Etheridge stammered.
    “Yes, he did. You do remember me, don’t you?” The president moved in front of Etheridge, a foot or so from his face.
    “Oh. Oh, my … Holmes, look who’s on the plane with us. It’s the—”
    “Never mind him, he’s been drinking,” Holmes cut in.
    The Tall Man went straight toward Richard Holmes, who still acted like he didn’t know him. “Yes, can I help you?” Holmes said.
    The Tall Man wanted to be sure, to hear the voice in close proximity again. He was sure. It was the Hidden One, as the Tall Man had referred to him.
    The Tall Man permitted a slight grin to form at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he said, “and I know who you are.”
    No sooner had the last word left his mouth than the heel of his right palm flew forward and struck Holmes under the nose. The force of the blow sent him backward to the floor. His arms flailed about him, and his busted nose sprayed red all over his face.
    “Careful, now,” Elliot said the soldier, who made a move for his M4.
    “Sure thing, I’m okay,” he replied when he saw the muzzle of Elliot’s Super Redhawk aimed toward his head. “He ain’t worth gettin’ killed for.”
    “Damn, that was a shot!” Tom couldn’t hold his excitement back when he saw Holmes dealt with like that.
    “Riley, take the others inside through the front door. We’ve got some business to attend to.”
    The Tall Man’s tone suggested this was not a time for dissension.
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    “ D o you know this man ?”
    “Yes, Mr. President. I once worked for him,” the Tall Man answered.
    While Mulhaven took the rest of the party around to the front door, the Tall Man told the group in the cellar of how, through associates, he’d met Richard Holmes, and how he was offered a high-standing security position with a company involved in the production and sale of insecticides and fertilizers.
    “I was introduced to a man named Langley, who filled me in. The job was internal security, all right, but my role was to control access to Phillip Baer’s formula. He was like this with all his products, be it fertilizer or snail killer. Langley told me to keep an eye on all of the employees and on Baer as well, which I found interesting. When I got the call to meet with a man in an underground parking garage, I realized that was more typical of intelligence operatives than private security, so I ran some to checks on my own regarding my employers.”
    Holmes sat up with a handkerchief to his bloodied nose, and Etheridge sat on a stool next to him. Etheridge was still under the effects of alcohol, but he was quite aware that he and Holmes were not in control of the situation. No one had realized this until it was well under way, but the two were on trial for crimes against the world.
    “You couldn’t run a check. These men were professionals.” Holmes spat blood onto the floor.
    “Found you, didn’t I? Thought you were so good hiding in the dark in parking garages, but I knew who you were.” The Tall Man was readying his arm to backhand the seated Holmes when he was grabbed from behind.
    It was the president who had taken his arm. He didn’t say anything, he just raised an eyebrow, and that was enough. For now.
    “Chuck, if we’re going to detail their crimes, we should do that in front of everyone. They deserve to know, too,” Elliot said. Perhaps he could see the need for open disclosure because he was not directly involved.
    “Yes, the young man is right. Everyone needs to know the deeds of these two. Everyone.” The president, like the statesman he was, encouraged an open inquiry.

    E veryone gathered in Kath’s living room, the largest room in the house, as if a major television event were about to take