And the "unless" that Smith heard was an organization set up outside the Constitution, outside the government, an organization that did not exist, set up to try to keep the government alive.

The organization would last for a short while, no more than two years, and then disappear, never seeing public light. And Smith would head it. Smith had a question. Why him? Because, the President had explained, in his years of service, Smith, more than any other manager in the Central Intelligence Agency, had showed a lack of prideful ambition.

"All the psychological tests show you would never use this organization to take over the country. Frankly, Dr. Smith, you have what can be uncharitably described as an incredible lack of imagination."

"Yes," Smith had said. "I know. It's always been like that. My wife complains sometimes."

"It's your strength," said the President. "Something amazed me though, and I'm going to ask you about it now because we will never see each other again, and you will of course forget this meeting…"

"Of course," Smith interrupted.

"What puzzles me, Dr. Smith, is how on earth you could flunk a Rorschach test. It's in your aptitude records."

"Oh, that," Smith said. "I remember. I saw ink blots."

"Right. And in a Rorschach test, you're supposed to describe what the blots look like."

"I did, Mr. President. They looked like ink blots."

And that was how it had started. The organization was supposed to be an information-gathering and -dispensing operation, providing prosecutors with information, letting newspapers get stories to embarrass corrupt officials. But early on it became apparent that information was not enough. The organization that did not exist needed a killer arm. It needed a killer arm the size of a small army, but small armies had many mouths and you didn't very well convince a hit man he worked for the Department of Agriculture. They needed an extraordinary single killer who didn't exist—for an organization that didn't exist.