The man smote the bank notes from Foyle’s hand, leaped up and ran down the beach. Foyle tackled him at the edge of the surf. Forrest fell headlong, his face in the water. Foyle held him there. “Who commanded Vorga, Forrest? Who gave the order?” “You’re drowning him!” Robin cried. “Let him suffer a little. Water’s easier than vacuum. I suffered for six months. Who gave the order, Forrest?” The man bubbled and choked. Foyle lifted his head out of the water. “What are you? Loyal? Crazy? Scared? Your kind would sell out for five thousand. I’m offering fifty. Fifty thousand for information, you son
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