At last he took a sip. He made strange sucking noises, then swallowed. Justin Karl Slobojan closed his eyes as a look of beatific ecstasy suffused his features.

“Oh, dear God,” he murmured. He opened his eyes and fixed Milos with a grateful stare. “I thought you were going to tell me you’d bought one of these so-called vineyards out here and this was your first bottling.” He held up the glass and examined the ruby liquid. “But this is definitely French. An absolutely magnificent Bordeaux. I’m not good enough to identify the château, but I can tell you this is just about the best wine I’ve ever tasted.”

Milos was delighted. He still didn’t understand how people actually enjoyed drinking this acrid stuff, but at least he hadn’t bought bad wine. He turned the bottle to show Slobojan the label.

The director’s eyes lighted. “Petrus! I should have known. That’s the—” His eyes fairly bulged as he noticed the date. “Nineteen-forty-seven! I was only two years old when this was grape juice!”

Milos handed the decanter to Slobojan. “Here. With my compliments.”

“Oh, no. I can’t. That must be worth thousands!”

Milos shrugged dismissively. “If one wants the best, one must be prepared to pay what is necessary.” He thrust the decanter into Slobojan’s hands. “Please. I insist.”

“Then you must share it with me!”

Milos felt his cheeks pucker at the thought. “I have many more bottles. This one is for you. Share it with others here you know will appreciate it.”

And will talk about it later, he silently added.

“Thank you,” Slobojan said. “This is extraordinarily generous of you.”

“It is nothing,” Milos said as the director hurried away with his liquid treasure.

Yes, Milos thought, giddy with delight as he wandered back outside. The evening was progressing perfectly. This would indeed be a party to remember.

As he stood on the central deck he noticed an attractive young blonde and recognized her as Kirin Adams, the actress who had just co-starred in Brad Pitt’s latest movie. She was standing alone near the end of the far deck, watching the ocean. Cino was not in sight at the moment, so Milos started toward her. He was almost to her side when he again heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter.

He stopped. Coast Guard again or…

He looked out to sea but saw nothing. Then he realized the sound was coming from behind him. He turned and there it was, materializing out of the darkness on the far side of the house. He stood frozen as it glided over the roof like some giant black dragonfly.

Oh, no! They wouldn’t dare!

One by one and then in groups, his guests stopped their eating, drinking, and talking to turn and stare at the approaching craft, to point at the strange-looking pod dangling from its undercarriage.

“No!” Milos screamed as the helicopter swooped a hundred feet overhead. He saw a door in the front section of the pod drop open, watched black liquid gush forth…