A state of disobedience

Kansas City, Missouri

Mr. Smythe was a simple man, in his way; an undistinguished one, also, to all appearances. Medium short, with a slight paunch, crowned by thinning blond hair tinged with unremarkable gray.

He lived simply enough, alone, in a two-bedroom condo between the city and nearby Leavenworth, Kansas. His needs were few and his job, though he was rarely called upon, more than met them.

Carroll had met Smythe before, once. As he had then, Smythe pushed across the table a piece of paper with a number, a rather large number, written on it.

Unnecessarily, Smythe added, "My fee is not negotiable."

"I understand that," Carroll answered. "You will be needing credentials?"

"Yes. I will list my requirements later."

Though a cold man, Smythe couldn't help a warm shiver of anticipation. He had his own standards of achievement. Two major figures in one lifetime. No one has ever gotten two in one lifetime.