"Take the example of Mike Rooney," Culpepper said. "A tragic case, that. He's lost a good government job and with it all his pension and retirement rights. And how? By simply having an accident with a government helicopter when he was using it on a combination of government and personal business. "Rooney--" Giles said thoughtfully. "Yes, I know him very well. Wonderful chap, nice family of growing boys. Now there is the sort of man who would make you a good trusty, general. I would recommend him very highly." "I feel the same way," Culpepper said. Bennington signaled to Ferguson, used the excuse of freshening his drink to cover his thoughts. Rooney ... Rooney ... oh, yes, the Internal Revenue official with the odd ideas about whose tax should be collected and whose should be neglected ... and coming here for processing on a minor charge. The old run-around, Bennington decided: Put the man in jail on a minor charge until the hullabaloo over his major crime no longer made big headlines. If word had gotten down to the State level that Rooney was to be taken care of, the former tax collector must be sitting on a lot of hot stuff. The right phrase here will buy a lot of co-operation, Bennington told himself, remembering the overcrowded barracks, among the long list of things needing a change before this place operated properly. On a short-term basis, the answer was clear.... "Gentlemen, I have no doubt that anyone you recommend for special consideration would, in some way, deserve that consideration," he said. "I am further aware that one hand washes another and that if I expect some favors from you, I should expect to do some for you." He held down his temper while the politicians exchanged glances of mutual congratulation. "But," he said, "if I establish a trusty system, it will be an honorable one. I would be seen in hell first before I would allow any man to use the setup as a place to hide in comfort during a short rap when he should be sweating out a long one. "Your friend Rooney will get exactly what he deserves. And not a thing more." Giles had slowly turned a turkey purple, but his voice remained calm and even. "I think you stated the proposition fairly, general. You will get from us the same amount of consideration that you give us." The party had been over for an hour, but Ferguson was still at work on the debris. And his old sergeant had, Bennington estimated out of long experience with cleaning up after stag parties, at least another hour's work ahead of him. The general returned to staring out the big picture window overlooking the prison compound. _Something was wrong...._ It wasn't Giles and Culpepper. A call to a friend in the Bureau of Internal Revenue, a few words to each of the six governors who had concurred in his appointment, either or both of these would take care of those gentlemen, very thoroughly. _Something else was wrong...._