As Luke’s eyes became accustomed to the dim light in the room, he noticed a man sitting on the throne—slouching on it was a more accurate description. He had a machine gun draped across his lap.

Edwin Lee Parr.

Parr had red hair, which he had let grow into a ponytail. He also had a long red beard—he no longer looked anything like his USMC or contractor photos. He wore camouflage pants, heavy boots, and a light gray T-shirt. He was long and thin, like a strip of beef jerky—not the massive, muscle-bound freak look so popular among both soldiers and mercenaries these days.

Well, not everybody could hang that kind of muscle on themselves.

There were several other men, sprawled in various chairs around the room. And there was a man floating on his back in the swimming pool. None of them made a move or a sign at the approaching guests. None of them seemed to care.

This must be the headquarters, the throne room of the king. And these other men were his various courtiers and jesters.

“Well, Cole. Back from the dead, I see,” the man on the throne said. His voice revealed a slight lilt, almost like a Southern gentleman.

“That’s what they keep telling me,” Cole said. “But it wasn’t as bad as all that.”

The man nodded, didn’t respond.

“I brought you company,” Cole said.

“I see,” Parr said. “Uninvited company ain’t my favorite thing. Popovers, my mama used to call it. People who just popped over were never welcome in our house, I can tell you that.” He shook his head and smiled. “Never mind. Who do you have here?”

“Friends, that’s the famous Edwin Lee Parr,” Cole said, doing his job and identifying the subject. He glanced around the large echoing room at the other men. “Edwin Parr, this here’s Ed King and David Dell. Couple of fellas looking to make a little money while they’re here in God’s country.”

“Make a little money, huh?” Parr said. “That what you guys are hoping to do?”

“We heard you’re the man to see,” Luke said.

Parr shook his head gently. “Not quite. If all you’re looking to do is make a little money, I suggest you go back to the Green Zone and visit Uncle Sam at a Marine Corps recruiting station. We’re out here making a lot of money. More money than you ever saw in your young lives, and maybe more money than you ever imagined. But you’ll risk your lives to get it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ed Newsam said. “I’ve been risking my life for chump change.”

Parr pushed himself into a standing position. Was he stoned? Drunk? Hung over? Luke couldn’t tell.

“Why should I trust you?” he said.