Page 157 - Psychoceramics and the Test of Fire

Operation Belshazzar

their self-realization—although the results had usually made me glad
my identity could not be discovered. And now again I had an
opportunity to make a clean getaway, to collect my largest fee yet and
leave for Europe or the tropics, if I so desired. The chances of Cyrus
Lee actually leading a successful crusade against the satanic power of
Uncle Sam were slim, by any realistic assessment. But such an
uprising would have innocent victims. And I knew it.
So I packed up my things and removed any personal traces from
the fittings and fixtures, as was my normal modus operandi when
shedding the skin of a fictional character at the end of a mission. I
called the desk and told them I was checking out a day early and
would pay cash. A few minutes before I left on a flight I was lucky to
book last-minute I made a call from an airport public telephone to an
anonymous tip line. I informed the agent answering the call that a
dangerous domestic terrorist was planning the violent overthrow of
the government and had a list of co-conspirators in his mobile home.
I gave Cyrus Lee’s address and hung up.
That was how my association with Al Magnus ended. With what
little money I had left I moved to a city with at least a few prospects
for employment, and have been seeking a permanent job ever since.
I’m not alone: the economy currently favors temporary workers, jacks
of all trades—exactly my qualifications for my last position; too bad I
couldn’t put it on my resumé. It had been challenging work, and the
taste of the high life I had gotten in the pay of Magnus would linger
in memory as if it were the magical journey of a hero in quest of a
grail. And I could live with my conscience, a new companion in
subsequent endeavors.

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