"Don't play stupid, Rayburn. I have very little use for your kind. You're only alive because I can't find Pezanowski. Where is he?"

"He's in jail. What else can I say? He's probably spilling his guts about everything now, but O'Neil beat him to the punch."

"Who the hell is O'Neil?"

"Never mind." Rayburn managed to stand up. His chest was still in pain. "Why the hell did you have to hit me like that?"

"Two inches to the right and I would have stopped your heart, even with all the flab. I was easy on you." He grabbed Rayburn by his starched collar and twisted. "What does O'Neil have to do with Pezanowski?"

"He took O'Reilly's place. Remember O'Reilly?"

"Yeah, sure. They're all a bunch of political fat cats who pretend to be priests. If they weren't priests, they would be senators, CEOs, or something like that. I don't give a rat's ass about any of them. Never have." He twisted a little more. "I want Pezanowski."

The fat man's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. Suarez let up a little bit.

"Any particular reason?" asked the National Security Adviser.

Suarez was astonished at the man's cynicism, given his situation.

"Actually, no. Except that lately he has really fucked up my life."