Nice dog, Luke said. What breed would you call that?

Mutt, the man said. I think he must be half rat. I got him from the shelter. He was twenty-four hours from the gas chamber. How could I go to a breeder when there are so many lost souls on death row? Its unconscionable.

What can I call you? Luke said.

Paul is good, the man said.

That was funny. Paul, Wes, Steve, the man always went by some nondescript name. When Luke was young, the name had been Henry, or Hank. He was the man without a name, the man without a country. What could you say about someone who was a Cold War spy, who sold his own countrys secrets to the Soviets, then turned around and sold the Soviets secrets to the British and the Israelis? And that was the little Luke knew about. There was probably a lot more.

One thing you might say is he was lucky to be alive. Another thing is that it was amazing he could choose to live in Washington, DC, now, right under the very noses of people who would be happy to kill him or put him away forever. But perhaps betrayal had an expiration date. After a certain amount of time had passed, maybe no one cared anymore. Maybe all the people who once cared were dead.

Luke nodded. Okay, Paul. Thanks for coming. I want to tell you that I met with a man this afternoon. Up in New York.

The old man laughed. Oh my, yes. I heard all about it. I gather you dropped in on him somewhat uninvited. Dropped out of the sky, in fact.

Luke stared into the fog. It was as thick as soup.

He said some things I dont understand.

Being smart is not the same as being quick-witted, the man said. Some people, as clever as they may be, are still slow in the uptake.

Or maybe I understand what he said, I just dont believe it.

What was it?

Operation Red Box, Luke said. Thats what he told me.

The old man said nothing. He looked straight ahead. A moment ago, his hands had been stroking the dog. Now they had stopped.

Luke went on. He said to ask the CIA Director about it. Well, I dont have access to the CIA Director. But I do have access to you.

The mans mouth opened, then closed again.

Tell me, Luke said.

The man looked straight at Luke for the first time. His face was like wrinkled parchment. His eyes were deep set and pale blue. They were eyes that still knew secrets. They were eyes without pity.

I havent heard those words in a long while, he said. I wouldnt recommend you say them again. Never know whos listening, even in a place like this.

All right.

I imagine you asked him a question to elicit that phrase. What was the question?