The blindfold came off, and Alvin Blake found himself in a large room. There was one light over head, but it only illuminated so far. He couldn’t see where the walls were.

He was seated in a large chair in front of a massive desk. Across from him, an older man sat with a folder open in front of him.

“What’s this?” Blake asked.

“Mr. Blake,” the gentleman said. “You are here because you have been investigating a friend of ours. We would like you to stop.”

Blake laughed. “You’re joking, right?” He couldn’t believe this. “I’m a reporter. Haven’t you ever heard of freedom of the press?”

“Yes, Mr. Blake, I have. I voted against it.”

“Voted against…” Now he was confused. “Just who the hell are you people?”

“We are the people who run… everything.” He smiled.

“Like in ‘New World Order’?”

“Somewhat, although the order hasn’t been ‘new’ since we helped put Richard the Lionheart on the throne.”

Blake stared, amazed. “All right, I’ll stop. And in return…” He grinned. “I want in.”

“That can be arranged…”