“Have a seat. Can I offer you something?” He flipped on a light switch and went to the liquor cabinet. “Whiskey? Scotch? Gin?”
“No.” I sat down and crossed my legs.
“That’s right, you’re not inclined to drink, are you?”
“How do you know that?”
“I know a lot of things.” He smirked again and poured himself a glass and then sat down in the chair across from me. “The walls of the WBIS are not as impenetrable as you might like to think. And don’t imagine you can get any information from me, Vincent. I’m not like some of those pathetic clones who take one look at you and piss their pants. I’ve dealt with men like you before; I’m not afraid of you, and I have no intention of telling you who the senator’s source is.”
Maybe not right then, but he would soon.
He was raising his glass to his li
