"Of the Central Intelligence Agency," Homer Crawford said dryly. He as
well as Bey, Elmer and Kenny had risen to their feet when the newcomer
entered from the smaller of the hut's two rooms. "What's the gun for,
Ostrander?"
"You're under arrest," the C.I.A. man said evenly.
Elmer Allen snorted. "Under whose authority are you working? As a
Jamaican, I'm a citizen of the West Indies and a subject of Her
Majesty."
"We'll figure that out later," Ostrander rapped. "I'm sure the
appropriate Commonwealth authorities will co-operate with the State
Department and the Reunited Nations in this matter." The gun
unwaveringly went from one of them to the other, retraced itself.
Bey looked at Homer Crawford.
Crawford shook his head gently.
He said to the newcomer, "The question still stands, Ostrander. Under
whose authority are you operating? I don't think you have jurisdiction
over us. We're in Africa, not in the United States of the Americas."
Ostrander said tightly, "Right now I'm operating under the authority
of this weapon in my hand. Dr. Crawford. Do you realize that all of
you Americans here are risking your citizenship?"