Excerpt from High Time To Kill by Raymond Benson, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

The Governor's attention was distracted by the head servant, a black man with gray hair and glasses, whispering to one of the security guards some fifteen feet away. The guard, a Caucasian who might have been a professional wrestler, nodded and left the scene.

"Everything all right, Albert?" the Governor called.

"Yessuh," Albert said. "I sent Frank to take a look at someone's motor scooter parked outside the fence."

"Ahhh," the Governor said. For a moment Bond thought he appeared nervous and perhaps a little frightened.

Bond asked, "You were saying?"

"Right. I was saying there was something I'd like you to take a look at. Privately. In my office. Would you mind?"

Bond looked at Helena. She shrugged. "I'm fine," she said, eyeing a large tray of peeled shrimp. "Go ahead. I'll be somewhere around here."

Bond squeezed her arm and then followed the Governor back into the house. They went up an elegant winding staircase to the second floor and into the Governor's study. Once they were inside, the Governor closed the door.

"You're being very mysterious," Bond said. "I'm intrigued."

The Governor moved around his desk and unlocked a drawer. "I think I'm in a bit of trouble, James," he said. "And I'd like your advice."

The man was genuinely concerned. The levity in Bond's voice immediately vanished. "Of course," he said.

"Ever heard of these people?" his friend asked, handing over a letter in a transparent plastic sleeve.

Bond looked at the piece of paper. It was an 81/2-by-11-inch piece of typing paper with the words "Time Is Up" centered in the middle of the page. At the bottom it was signed "The Union."

Bond nodded. "The Union. Interesting. Yes, we know about the Union."

"Can you tell me about them?" the Governor asked. "I haven't gone to the local police here, but I've already sent a query to London. I haven't heard anything yet."

"Is this message, 'time is up,' meant for you?" Bond asked.

The Governor nodded. "I'm heavily in debt to a man in Spain. It was a real estate transaction that wasn't particularly...honest, I'm sorry to say. Anyway, I received one letter from this Union, or whatever they are, two months ago. In that one it said that I had two months to pay up. I don't want to do that because the man in Spain is a crook. I got this letter four days ago. Who are they, James? Are they some kind of Mafia?"

"They're not unlike the Mafia, but they are much more international. SIS only recently became aware of their activities. What we do know is that they are a group of serious mercenaries out for hire by any individual or government that will employ them."

"How long have they been around?"

"Not long. Three years, maybe."

"I've never heard of them. Are they really dangerous?"

Bond handed the letter back to the Governor. "As a work-for-hire outfit, they have to be experts at anything from petty street crime to sophisticated and elaborate espionage schemes. They are reportedly responsible for the theft of military maps from the Pentagon in the United States. The maps disappeared from right under the noses of highly trained security personnel. A well-protected Mafia don was murdered about a year ago in Sicily. The Union supposedly supplied the hit man for that job. They recently blackmailed a French politician for fifty million francs. The Deuxième got wind of it and passed the information on to us. One of the most recent reports that went through my office stated that the Union were beginning to specialize in military espionage and selling the fruits of their findings to other nations. Apparently they have no loyalty to any one nation. Their primary motive is greed, and they can be quite ruthless. If that letter was meant for you, then, yes, I would have to say that they are ind eed quite dangerous."

This excerpt reprinted from HIGH TIME TO KILL by Raymond Benson by permission of G. P. Putnam's Sons, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Copyright (c) 1999 by Ian Fleming (Glidrose) Publications Ltd. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.