’ She is reaching for her purse when a strong hand catches her wrist, she looks at him again. He leans closer still, ‘Please stay. Sit with a lon...ly cowboy and finish your drink …please.’ The entreaty disarms her, and she finds herself nodding. ‘What’s your name, sweet lady?’ ‘Pammy, um, Pamela. And you are?’ ‘Quinton Andrews, singer, song-writer and general pain in the ass, at your service. Call me Quinn.’ With these words he reaches to shake her hand. Her hand feels swallowed in his big. She knew she couldn't last very long anymore, and she knew that I was as high up the hierarchy as she could hope to get at. At last, she talked.It wasn't easy for her to speak intelligibly in her agony, and I did not interrupt her tortures to make it easier for her. She had to talk, and she talked. The fleet would attack in the Fall, she said.At that time of the year, the wind blows from the South. We'd never expect their attack at that time, and we'd never expect an attack from the South, not. More

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