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eyebrow in reply.
    The spokesman was only too glad to get the hell away from John Ravenna. Even though he’d been dealing with thugs and muscle and professional hit men for years, this man scared him—reached down into his soul and touched some primitive part.
    John waited for a moment, then followed the man. John always covered his bets.
    * * *
    â€œMy people in New York tell me that Stormy Knight, of the Coyote Network, is going to cover the Speaker’s trip,” Jim Beal told a gathering of his cell leaders. “I have got to get to her . . . somehow. Our side of the story has to be told, and told to someone who will report it fairly and accurately. Miss Knight will do that without liberal bias.”
    â€œWhat about Victor Radford?”
    â€œVic is an idiot. Struts around in that damn Nazi uniform and spouts the writings of Hitler. He and that whacky bunch of his have given all of us a bad name.”
    After the short meeting was over, Jim Beal sat down in a recliner-lounger and sipped his bourbon and water. He had to find a way to meet with this reporter; had to impress upon her that he and his followers presented no threat to the government or to any person, regardless of color. Jim Beal simply did not believe in race mixing. He did not wish any harm to come to black people, but he did not wish to live around them or to have his children go to school with black children. He believed that he had a right to refuse people service in his place of business. He used his own money to start his business, used his own money to see the business through the rough times, and the government had no right to tell him how to run his business.
    Unlike Victor Radford, Jim Beal was very careful about who he allowed in his group. There were no cross burners in his association, no radical haters, no wild-eyed revolutionaries. The weapons they practiced with were all legal.
    Furthermore, Jim Beal knew that the majority of people living in this area supported his views, to one degree or another, but most were reluctant to speak out openly for fear of government retaliation. Privately, the majority of people agreed with him, and he understood why they could not go public with their sentiments. While not a fanatic about religion, Jim was a religious person, and he tried to live a decent life, in accordance with his views of right and wrong.
    The few black families who lived in the county would not trade in any of the several businesses owned by Jim Beal or in any business owned by members of Beal’s organization. That was a silent understanding that went back years.
    Jim would have laughed if someone had told him he was a very complex man. But he most certainly was.
    * * *
    Stormy had no trouble locating Barry’s house, for he had drawn her a detailed map of the area. After visiting briefly with Barry, Ki had driven on up into Missouri to visit her family for a few days.
    After getting reacquainted in the privacy of the bedroom, Barry and Stormy went for a leisurely walk around the property, Pete and Repeat with them. Because of who he was and what he could become, the hybrids obeyed every command from Barry and always stayed close.
    Pausing to sit by the bank of the little creek that ran through the property, Stormy told Barry about the warning she had received on her answering machine.
    â€œYou’ve gotten these before?”
    â€œOh, sure.” She flipped a pebble into the cold waters of the spring-fed creek. “Probably everyone in the public eye gets threats sometime in his or her life. But this one was, well, different in a way that is hard to explain. Most of the others, if they were delivered vocally, were screaming threats from obvious nuts. If they came by letter, depending on what report set them off, they would be something like, ‘Die, you fag-loving bitch,’ or ‘God will punish you for your sins.’ But this one, this one was calmly given, as if the man was trying to warn me