She still could not figure

out why he had been so adamant about her becoming his personal aide. Surely he knew by now that she did not love him.

Or did she?

That was a question she had asked herself many times over the years. And she always came up with the same answer: Yes, she did. Sort of. In a way. But she respected him more than loved him. She guessed she did, anyway. Sometimes she was sure that she hated him. But those feelings had always passed as quickly as they’d come.

Was Ben trying to work his way into her heart?

No. She knew him better than that. Even over the long years, he had never once told her that he loved her. But she knew he did. He’d never even told her that he liked her.

And maybe he didn’t. It was certainly possible to love someone and not like diem.

Ben turned and looked at her, just as quickly averting his eyes.

She shook her head. Strange man, Ben Raines.

Ben walked out into Mitchell Square just as a runner approached him. “We’re picking up signal flashers from New Jersey, General.

General Ike read them. Khamsin wants to meet with you.”

Ben did not change expression. “Does he now?

That’s interesting. I wonder why he didn’t radio. It would have been much easier.” He smiled at the runner. “Unless, of course, he’s got a double-cross planned against the creepies.”

“You trust him, General?”

“Hell, no!”

After the runner had left, Ben bumped Ike on scramble. “What do you make of it, Ike?”

“No good, that’s for sure.”

“You got your man standing by on ship?”

“Ten-four.”

“Tell him I’ll meet with him. But he’s got to come to me.”

“I will relay the message.”

In less than five minutes, Ike was

back on the horn.

“Khamsin says you’ll have to come to him, Ben.”

“Tell him to shove it up his ass.”

Ike laughed. “With pleasure!”

Ike was back with the message in less time than before.

“He says that’s all right with him. Where do you want to meet?”

“Tell him I’ll get back with him at dawn tomorrow. Then you get up here. Let’s meet.”

“He’s too eager, people,” Ben told the gathering.

“I got a hunch he wants to talk peace while his army moves all over us. Or, perhaps he realizes that the Night People have to be destroyed before they can gain a firmer hold. Then when that’s done he’ll turn on us.”

“I’d opt for the latter,” Cecil said.

The others agreed.

“So,” Ben said with a smile, “I think I’ll just tell the Hot Wind to come on over. We can sure use his help in this war.”

Nearly all of them were looking at Ben as if they were sure he had lost his mind. All except General Striganov. He was sitting with a faint smile on his face.

“Are you serious, Dad?” Tina asked.

“Why, of course. War, like politics, makes for strange bedfellows.”

Then he started laughing while the rest of his people looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“I want Doctor Nate Lindgren and his PSE

machine set up very close to us,” Ben instructed.

“Have the microphone well-concealed and have him draw up a list of questions he wants me to ask Khamsin.

Of course, Khamsin will be lying when he says he wants to be our ally-that goes without saying-but I want to be as close to one hundred percent certain as I can get.”

Ben had still not explained his plan to any of his commanders, and they were all, with the exception of General Striganov, more than a bit irritated over Ben’s sudden trust of the Libyan.

Pulling Ben off to one side, Ike said, “What the hell is going on, Ben? You know as well as me that damned terrorist is about as trustworthy as a cottonmouth.”

“Relax, Ike,” Ben assured him. “Just take it easy. I know what I’m doing.”

But Ike didn’t relax, and wasn’t all that convinced that Ben hadn’t gone round the bend. He walked away, shaking his head and muttering.

Ben’s daughter came to him. “Dad. You can’t make any deals with Khamsin. That man and his people have raped and tortured and murdered halfway around the world. He’s pure filth.”

“All that is true,” Ben conceded.

“And you’re still going to meet with him and talk about joining forces?”

“I am.”

Tina whirled around and stalked away, her back stiff with anger.

“Ben,” Cecil said, “if you let that Libyan get his army on this island, we’re finished. This isn’t like you at all.”

But Ben would only pat his friend on the shoulder and smile. “Trust me, Cec. I know what I’m doing.”

The commanders, with the exception of General Striganov, went to see Doctor Chase.

“He’s suffering from strain,” Ike told the doctor. “That’s got to be the reason for all this.

The way he laughed back yonder chilled me.”

“Take two aspirin, have some chicken soup and call me in the morning,” the crusty old doctor told Ike. “Ben knows what he’s doing, people.”

“Well, maybe you’d care to tell us