I felt strangely embarrassed.

He looked at Eigen. “He’s right. No sex for the old banana. Ironic, right? Just a piece of the tree. Shame.”

“Don’t you think we should get out of here?” I asked. “Or you should get out of here? I mean, you did just shoot the vice president.”

“Nobody gives a flying fuck about the vice president. Anyway, I hated that pigmentally challenged son of a bitch.”

“I doubt the government is going to feel the same way.”

“The government, Wala, doesn’t feel anything. That bastard was willing to take all the gold he could back to whatever midwestern state he came from. Did you hear that? Shilling was willing. That would have made a great bumper sticker for his presidential bid. Now, about this box.”

“I think there’s something in it,” I said.

“Yeah, nothing’s in it.”

“It’s too heavy,” I said.

“You know the weight of nothing.”

“Well, no,” I said.

“Then shut up.”

“Hold it right there!” It was Bill Clinton. He and Mitchell stepped into the room, automatic rifles pointed.

“Bill Clinton,” Sill said. “Not surprised to see you. Does my lack of surprise surprise you? And you’ve brought Miller with you.”

“Mitchell,” said Mitchell.

“Yeah, right.”

“We’ll be taking that box, Sill,” Mitchell said.

“A comedian,” Sill said. “And what do you think is in this box?”

“This is where it ends,” said Clinton.

“You don’t really think you sneaked up on anybody, do you,” Sill said. “Coming in here with your weapons brandished, dressed like fucking ninjas.”

“I would say that you’re going to prison,” Clinton said. “But you know as well as I do that you’re on your way to the remotest, darkest black site there is.”

“Quincy, Massachusetts?” Sill asked.

“What?” Clinton looked at his partner.

“You can’t handle what’s in this box,” Sill said.

“We’re the government, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Yeah, I know. This is nothing you can’t handle.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing in this box.”

“Whatever. We’re taking you in.”

“We’re taking you in,” Sill mocked Clinton. “You watch too many movies.”

“He shot the vice president,” Eigen said.

Clinton nodded. “We know. Nobody cares about the vice president. He was just the president’s insurance policy. Anyway, we don’t answer to any branch of the government. We just take care of business. So, if you turn around, we’ll put the cuffs on you and we can be going.”

Sill simply stared at them. “You seem to have a little something on your face. Is that a red dot?”

Clinton and Mitchell looked at each other, saw the laser dots on each other’s foreheads, and dropped their weapons.

“Is this the part when you fill us in on your diabolical plan?” Clinton asked.

“No.” Sill nodded and both men were shot dead. I screamed at being so startled. “Government,” Sill chuckled. “Whose fucking government? Your government, Wala? Professor Vector, your government?” He looked at the dead men on the floor. “What a fucking mess. DeMarcus!”

DeMarcus appeared. He looked at the bodies.