The Scot was sitting in a plain wooden chair, sipping from a cup of tea sitting on the chair's wide, flat arm. They were alone in the first bedchamber on the ground floor, which had been turned, by the addition of furniture, into a small meeting room. "We want to strike against the English," Colin said. "The targets must be the British government and trade and not the Scottish people. No stores, no public places. Only government and military facilities and British business offices in Scotland." "And would you like to restrict the victims to men only, and of a certain age group? No one with families, of course, for we can't have any orphans or widows, can we?" "Don't be absurd." "No, don't you be absurd, Colin Mackay. You want to be a terrorist, you have to spill blood, you know. I believe that's how it's done. Now you tell me specifically the kind of target you would like. What organization? What building? What man?" He thought for a moment. "All right, then. The executives of British Petroleum, who take our North Sea oil.
