“No dice, Joe. I escaped out here to avoid that kind of meeting. It ain’t my style, never has been, you know that. I was just blowing off steam. It’s been a long pump.”
“Well, I wish you’d change your mind, Shake. You know I’m gonna tell Senator Neely what you had to say. He needs to hear it. OK if I quote you?”
“Clean it up and have at it. Maybe it’ll do some good. Like you said before, it’s time to s**t or get off the pot in Beirut.”
Ten days later Shake and his driveradioman were shivering in a chilly cave overlooking a Druze settlement in the Chouf foothills east of BIA. The U.S. Congressional delegation was a week gone from their Beirut fact-finding junket. Sutures in Shake’s right arm were beginning to itch which meant Boxy Shapiro would remove them in a couple of days. All seemed
