Playing Soldier

Playing SoldierI came into the weird mercenary vortex of Soldier of Fortune magazine when the phone rang in 1980. The voice on the other end was low and conspiratorial, the vocal cords sounding as if they had been ravaged by gargling gravel. Something in it whispered of far places and dark secrets too evil to be told."Hi, Fred, old asshole. I need a writer. Seventeen-five and bandages. Interested?" The drains of the Orient gurgled in that voice.I had been bumping at arm's length into B...