There was the usual assortment of “Bomb the Court!” threats, but many came with specificslike names, cases, and issues.

Runyan made no effort to hide his anxiety. Working from a confidential FBI summary, he read the names of individuals and groups suspected of threats. The Klan, the Aryans, the Nazis, the Palestinians, the black separatists, the pro?lifers, the homophobics. Even the IRA. Everyone, it seemed, but the Rotarians and the Boy Scouts. A Middle East group backed by the Iranians had threatened blood on American soil in retaliation for the deaths of two justice ministers in Tehran. There was absolutely no evidence the murders were linked to the U.S. A new domestic terrorist unit of recent fame known as the Underground Army had killed a federal trial judge in Texas with a car bomb. No arrests had been made, but the UA claimed responsibility. It was also the prime suspect in a dozen bombings of ACLU offices, but its work was very clean.

“What about these Puerto Rican terrorists?” Runyan asked without looking up.

“Lightweights. We’re not worried,” K. O. Lewis answered casually. “They’ve been threatening for twenty years.”

“Well, maybe it’s time they did something. The climate is right, don’t you think?”

“Forget the Puerto Ricans, Chief.” Runyan liked to be called Chief. Not Chief Justice, nor Mr. Chief Justice. Just Chief. “They’re just threatening because everyone else is.”

“Very funny,” the Chief said without smiling. “Very funny.

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