"Your Excellency," deBrisil began, "the Malshallian ambassador has been demanding an audience with you for days now. He is incensed over the taking of...the Vengeance Mine and is demanding not only its return but that we turn over those responsible." So?" Westel threw a leg over the arm of his chair and examined his fingernails giving the appearance of abject boredom. "Tell him to go fuck himself. What do we care what he demands?" We care because he's threatening war over this," deBrisil gritted. .. or try to... too bad he can't make you come!" Gingerly, he set his glass down on the desk top and sprung his hand out to catch her tiny one.Desperately, she tried to jerk her hand free as tears of shame and rage streamed down her cheeks, but his huge, powerful hand was like a vise clutching at her own. She struggled with him, knocking the glass from the desk to spill onto the carpet, even knowing it was useless as she remembered the locked door, but in her panic she could think of nothing. More

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