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So it was "freedom" as defined by Orwell and Kafka, "freedom" as granted by
Stalin and Hitler, "freedom" to pace back and forth in your cage. I wondered if
the coming interrogation would be assisted by mechanical or electrical devices
or by drugs, and felt sick at my stomach. Back when I was on active duty and
repeatedly faced with the possibility of capture while holding classified
information, I always had a final friend, that "hollow tooth" or equivalent. I
no longer wore such protection.
I was scared.
Before long two men came in together. Mao answered good-moming to their
greeting and waved them to seats; a third man came in right after them. "Uncle
Jeff, I-"
"Shut up and sit down!" This latecomer was the joker whose gun I had
emptied; he shut up and sat down. I caught him looking at me; he looked away.
Mao put aside some papers. "Major Bozell, thanks for coming in. You, too.
Captain Marcy. Major, you have questions to ask one Richard Johnson. There he
sits. Ask away."
Bozell was a short man who carried himself very erect. He had close-cropped
sandy hair and an abrupt, jerky manner.
"Hah! Let's get right to it! Why did you send me on a wild goose chase?"
"What wild goose chase?"
"Hah! Are you going to sit there and deny that you told me a cock-and-bull
story about an attack by bandits? In an area where there have never been any
bandits! Do you deny that you urged me to send a rescue-and-salvage team out
there? Knowing that I would find nothing! Answer me!"
I said, "That reminds me- Can anyone tell me how Aunt Lilybet is this
morning? Because I was told to come here, I haven't had time to get to the
hospital
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