"...You will not mention political subjects or any dealings with international banks and development projects." He peered at me. "Simply a matter of confidentiality."... "It goes without saying," I assured him. For an instant, my heart seemed to stop beating. An old feeling returned, similar to ones I had experienced... in Indonesia, while driving through Panama City... and while sitting in a Colombian coffee shop with Paula. I was selling out — again. This was not a bribe in the legal sense — it was perfectly above board and legitimate for this company to pay to include my name on their roster, to call upon me for advice or to show up at a meeting from time to time, but I understood the real reason I was being hired. He offered me an annual retainer that was equivalent to an executive's salary. Later that afternoon I sat in an airport, stunned, waiting for my flight back to Florida. I felt like a prostitute. Worse than that, I felt I had betrayed my daughter, my family, and my country. And yet, I told myself, I had little choice. I knew that if I had not accepted this bribe, the threats would have followed."