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I spend a lot of time on my own. Even with Penny in my life, I’m still something of a loner; and out of concern for her safety I can’t share my entire life with her. When we aren’t investigating suspicious deaths or spending time together, I’m wandering round the city, riding the Tube to random destinations, or sitting in libraries drafting my reports for the Organization. In these odd moments I sometimes ponder the riddle that is my relationship with the Colonel. Over time we have come to an unspoken agreement that we can rely on each other, at least as much as any two members of the Organization can. We respect each other’s capabilities. And yet there’s still a basic antagonism between us. An obvious explanation would be that we have so little in common. I didn’t come from the upper-class British background he grew up with; didn’t go to a public school (or any school, come to think of it). I don’t get along well with authority, don’t follow the rules, and yet I get results. The Colonel has built his life around authority and rules, because that is what stabilized him in the Army.
I don’t age. He doesn’t know why – nor does anyone other than Penny. I won’t answer his questions about my background. This persistently irritates him.
We are near opposites in appearance. We avoid attracting attention in entirely different ways: he presents as a conventional authority figure, meaning that observers will immediately judge him as such and won’t be motivated to look for anything beneath the surface. I, by contrast, am a somewhat scruffy dresser – I know he can’t stand my jeans – and one of my strengths is my ability to appear anonymous and ordinary. In fact, I enjoy plain and basic living. The Colonel is capable of turning down a really excellent pizza for an insipid dinner at his club because he thinks that’s what is expected of him.
Healthy, happy relationships – now there’s something we do have in common. The Colonel says the Army was the making of him, but I think his wife was the saving of him. Made him a better person. And I can say that Penny has done the same for me. Penny knows that staying together in the long term will be difficult for us, but she’s made it clear so many times that it’s worth it to her. And I am so grateful.
But back to the Colonel. I said earlier that I get results; I have reason to believe that over time he has come to depend on Penny and me more than the other agents he runs. We’re being called in more frequently than we used to be, the debriefings are now accompanied by compliments – of a sort. We even got a “well done” from him a month ago, and my jaw almost dropped. His briefings for new cases used to last not a second longer than necessary. Now they may run an extra ninety seconds or so, during which he may comment on the weather or other neutral subjects. Progress.
Of course, even if he had tried to build a closer working relationship the deck would have been stacked against him from the start. No one could replace my former Colonel, whom I still miss. I remember our missions well; it was highly unusual for an agent handler to do fieldwork, but that didn’t stop him. The current Colonel and I worked together in the field only once, and off the books at that. He did manage to keep his cool under extremely stressful circumstances, and I thought better of him after that case. However, I thought it was unlikely that we would ever work together that way again.
Until we did.
Last week I was buying a few basics in a convenience store, turned away from the cashier and saw the Colonel standing by the magazine rack. He followed me out the door and walked silently beside me until we came to an area with no other pedestrians.
“This is a surprise,” I commented. “Why didn’t you call first?”
“This is a rush job. Can you put that bag in a rubbish bin somewhere?”
“I just spent perfectly good money on this sandwich,” I said indignantly. “And I’m hungry. Where are we headed?”
“I suppose you can eat in the car. We’re headed to Paddington.”
“What car – ˮ I broke off as a dark sedan pulled smoothly up to us. “Oh. That car.”
As we drove and I ate, the Colonel outlined the assignment. A highly confidential meeting was being held that week, now on the third and last day. The participants were…
“The Organization and Black Heir?” I repeated, dumbfounded. “You’re joking.”
“I never joke.” (I couldn’t argue with that.) “I was just as surprised as you when I was told. I’m not entirely sure what this meeting is about, but I think it may involve setting up a cooperative team to work together on certain assignments.”
“What would make them want to – wait. If there is an intergalactic war going on…”
The Colonel looked approving. “Exactly my thought, Mr. Jones.”
“Why me? Is it because I’ve worked for Black Heir in the past?”
“I requested you, and yes, that is the reason. As you know, I worked for them as well and I have been assigned to work with you on this case. Each of us has experience with both groups, which should reassure the participants. They’re both quite territorial, and it took a lot of work to get the Organization and Black Heir to sit down at the same conference table. And besides that, if our theory is correct,” he glanced at the driver and chose his words carefully, “you would be a good choice for this assignment. Don’t you think?”
I met his eyes and nodded. The case the Colonel and I had worked in the past had involved a refugee from an intergalactic war.
“So where is this meeting?”
“Windsor. They wanted it held outside London in the most secretive location possible, meaning an old building without electronic surveillance. The next train goes to Slough, and then a car will take us to the meeting spot.”
“I can’t go without Penny,” I objected. “You know we always work together.”
The Colonel shook his head. “Miss Belcourt cannot come with us. To be honest, that’s the other reason I didn’t call you. If we bring an outsider into the meeting we’ll be booted right out again. The participants made it clear that only agents with experience of both organizations would be allowed in. Don’t worry, this should only take a few hours. With luck we’ll be home tonight and Miss Belcourt need never know you were called in.”
I stared at him coldly. “Suppose I get out of the car right now?”
“Do I really need to remind you of your agreement with the Organization?” he fired back at me. “Besides, think of what could be at stake here. The entire planet could be in serious trouble. We’re innocent bystanders in a war we know nothing of, but that won’t save us if the fighting moves to this solar system, will it?”
I had to admit that he was right. “What are we expected to do? Why did we get pulled into this meeting?”
Before the Colonel could answer the car pulled up at Paddington. “We need to board the train first, then I’ll tell you.”
The conductor escorted us to a train compartment, nodded at the Colonel’s ID and then left us alone. No one else entered our compartment before the train left the station.
Once the train was underway the Colonel wasted no time. “A report which was to be presented today has gone missing, possibly stolen. It deals with alien technology recovered after a recent starship crash. One alien was captured at the site, but passed away almost immediately due to severe injuries.”
I winced internally. “Do we have any information about the technology?”
“Something to do with communications. They’re using the word ‘revolutionary’, but when don’t they?” The Colonel shrugged. “However, the Organization team members are extremely upset over the loss of this report. They suspect it could have been stolen to sabotage our agreement with Black Heir, which is already fragile. Each team is blaming the other for the theft and speculating about possible reasons for it. Our assignment is to reassure the team members and recover the report. One other thing: for the purposes of this meeting, everyone is anonymous. We have been assigned numbers. You are 68, I am 31.”
“Can’t I be Number Six?”
“No,” said the Colonel.
Upon our arrival at Slough we were immediately met, ushered into a car and whisked to the meeting site. The Colonel took all this as a matter of course but I had to admit it was a pleasant change from my usual struggles with local transport. The hotel where the meeting was taking place was a few blocks off the main street, hideously Victorian in appearance and built of mortared stone.
“I don’t think we have to worry about surveillance. Is this place wired for electricity or do they still have gas lighting?”
The Colonel ignored my jibe and led the way into the lobby, where we were met by a worried-looking man in a slightly shabby suit that didn’t fit him very well. His suit pockets bulged with handkerchiefs, pens and probably loose change and keys, judging by the faint jingle in his pockets I could hear when he moved.
“You’re here for the meeting, gentlemen? I’m, er, 73. You are?”
We gave him our identity numbers and he seemed to relax. “Good, good. I’m very glad to see you both. The situation is a bit of a mess. The head of hotel security is here, if you’d like to speak with him…”
Before 73 could finish his sentence, a man with an aura of self-importance bustled forward and bowed. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Thomas Brice, head of security. I wish to report that I was informed of the loss of this document about four hours ago. I have been investigating and would be happy to share my results with you.”
“You mean you’ve questioned the meeting participants?” asked the Colonel, surprised.
“Oh, no, just the hotel staff. No one saw anything suspicious.”
“Do you have any details regarding when the document was last seen?”
“Well, no. I assume it was last night, as the disappearance was reported this morning.”
The Colonel’s exasperated expression was one I knew well. I thought it best to intervene before the discussion went off the rails. “Sir, why don’t I interview Mr. Brice. Didn’t you say you wanted to speak with the committee members?” The Colonel nodded, turned on his heel and marched away.
“Well, he’s a tough one and no mistake.” Brice looked annoyed.
I decided to play the part of the friendly subordinate, hoping to get on Brice’s good side. “He certainly is. Ah, Mr. Brice, I could tell you stories… but there’s no time to go into that now. Can you tell me about the exits and entrances to this building, please?”
I was sitting in a hallway outside the conference room massaging my forehead when the Colonel came up to me.
“Did you get anything useful out of him?”
“No. All I got was a collection of random information and a headache. The man is a waste of space. He suspects one of the committee members because he has ‘a bad feeling about him’ but has absolutely no evidence. He doesn’t know when they took breaks or if anything was left in the conference room yesterday. He hasn’t searched any of their rooms, even.”
“Just as well he didn’t. We are talking about Black Heir and the Organization, after all. That’s a job for us to do.” And by us, it was clear, he meant me.
“Can you tell me about the meeting attendees, Colonel?”
The Colonel gave me a quick description of the conference participants. Besides 73, who was an engineer specializing in telecommunications, the other two Organization attendees were 84 and 22. 22 was somewhat senior to the Colonel and also had worked with Black Heir in the past. 84 apparently was a high-ranking administrator and was in charge of our side of the meeting. The Black Heir representatives were 34, 47 and 17. 47 was a senior administrator who was the equivalent in rank of 84, 34 was an extraterrestrial expert there to advise on details of the crash. So far the Colonel’s report had been straightforward, but I suddenly realized that he had omitted the third member of the Black Heir team. His manner was now slightly uncomfortable. I had a sudden flash of intuition.
“Colonel? Is 17 someone you know?”
“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “17 was already working for Black Heir when I joined. He was engaged to my wife, Chloe, at that time. But over time as we got to know each other, we fell in love and she broke off the engagement. He was very upset.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I can take over questioning 17 if you wish. It might make things easier. Did anyone say anything about the report?”
The report dealt with the implications of the technology recovered from the crash site. Briefly, this find was expected to streamline wireless transmission of data and could improve efficiency of both smartphones and the Internet. Both Black Heir and the Organization were more interested in potential military applications, and the report had therefore been made available to the conference attendees for review and discussion. 34 had brought six copies, distributed them the day before and collected them at the end of the day for safekeeping. While preparing for the meeting this morning she had looked at them more closely and realized that one copy was gone, substituted with several pages of random printouts. She had immediately reported the loss to 47, who had made a joint decision with 84 to call for an investigation prior to the end of the conference.
As he spoke the Colonel’s manner had grown steadily more formal, and he now paused in front of the door to the meeting room. “I suggest you try to make a good impression. I know you like to show your independence, but please do not forget that our jobs depend on these people.”
I fought the temptation to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that he had a point. “Right, Colonel. I’ll be good.”
The Colonel opened the door and I strolled in, observing the room’s occupants as closely as I could. Describing the Organization as secretive would be an immense understatement; in my twenty years with the group I had met only three members. I also wanted to get a look at the Black Heir representatives, though I was a bit worried that one or more of them might remember me from the past.
“Ah, 31, 68. So glad you could join us,” murmured the man at the head of the conference table. I stood easily near the door, the target of six pairs of eyes – seven, if you count the Colonel.
84 , a well-dressed elderly man with bifocals perched on his nose and a kindly smile, was the one who had welcomed us to the conference room. He was leaning back in his chair watching me with interest, and I was suddenly reminded of Santa Claus – if Santa Claus were the head of a secret organization. His benign expression did not hide a very observant pair of eyes.
47 was female, Asian and somewhat younger than 84. Her expression was rigorously neutral, but her firm jaw and tightlipped mouth gave her a slightly intimidating air. She looked as if she had been born knowing how to chair a meeting and I had no doubts about her competence. Were I still employed by Black Heir, I would have been careful to stay on her good side.
34 was also female and I estimated her age to be about 40. My gaze immediately tracked to the file stuffed with papers sitting next to her on the table. Her right hand was placed protectively on top of it; it was clear that it contained the reports on the starship crash. No absent-minded scientist, this; she was understandably tense.
I had expected 17 to be angry, and he wasn’t bothering to hide it. I found myself instinctively changing my position to block the Colonel from his glare. A thin, dark-haired man with a slightly crooked nose, he had a bitter twist to his mouth and his posture hunched over the table reminded me of a vulture more than anything. Perhaps I was being unfair to the man, but I was instantly sure that Chloe had done well to choose the Colonel over him. As I moved closer I picked up the scent of his aftershave, with a spicy undertone strong enough to make my nose twitch.
73 was fidgeting in his seat, rattling the change in his pockets nervously. 22, seated next to him, had escaped my notice at first, but I now realized he had a gift for merging into the background. He was black, had a vaguely military appearance similar to the Colonel’s, but was older and somewhat stout. He looked as though he had been to too many business dinners. It would be easy to dismiss him as a typical bureaucrat, but I had the feeling he might have started out as a field agent. I decided he would bear close watching, simply because he would be easy to underestimate.
“We’re glad to be here, sir.” The Colonel’s clipped tones broke into my thoughts. “I must say that hotel security has not been particularly helpful, although I believe we have eliminated the staff from suspicion. Given the circumstances of the report’s disappearance, that was to be expected. Therefore at this time we must focus on the members of the committee. With your permission, my assistant will request your room keys and we will search your rooms. May we also see the document that was substituted?”
34 was gripping the file protectively, but at 47’s nod, she reluctantly opened it and handed me the false report. I flipped through it, noting that it consisted of 16 pages of standard A4 paper; not bulky, but sizable enough that it would require some thought to hide it. I looked back at 34 and asked, “How exactly were the reports returned yesterday?”
“We put them in a pile in the middle of the table,” she responded. “I didn’t look at them individually, just stacked them together. It was only this morning when I was going through them prior to the meeting that I noticed…”
On further questioning, she said the reports had not been taken out of the room at any time during the meeting. (“Of course not!” she said defensively, not that I could blame her.) She had collected the reports prior to the afternoon break and then handed them out again for the final session of the day. The break lasted half an hour, which would have been sufficient time for the thief to make up a substitute document. I would have to ask the head of security if any of the conference members had been seen in the business centre – assuming the hotel had one. I gave the group my best professional smile, handed the report to the Colonel and moved over to 17.
“Sir? Your room key, please?” Is he actually grinding his teeth? I wondered as we locked eyes. After a pause he dug into his pocket and tossed the key card onto the table rather than handing it to me. I thanked him calmly, picked it up and proceeded around the table gathering the other keys while noting down which key belonged to whom and the room numbers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I suggest we take a break and reconvene in ninety minutes,” 47 said. 84 gave a nod of agreement and the members of the committee left the room except for 17, who lingered behind. I was tempted to face off with him, but I wasn’t there as a bodyguard and the Colonel was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. I also was interested to see how he would handle himself in a difficult situation.
“I should have known they would send you, Stuart.”
The Colonel nodded stiffly. “Martin.”
17 switched his gaze to me. “Who are you? The sidekick?”
I wasn’t going to let him annoy me. “You can call me 68. I’m a field agent. As you know, we were called in to help with your little problem. As long as we’re talking, do you have any theories as to what happened?”
“I might have, but I’m not inclined to share them. I was never a fan of this cooperation idea in the first place.” He glared at the Colonel again.
“So when the intergalactic war comes crashing down upon us, you’ll claim neutrality? I don’t see that working out well for us.”
17 shrugged. “It’s a theory. I’m not certain I believe it. And even if it’s true I don’t think anything we do is going to make a difference. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.” He turned away and left.
The Colonel, still calm, looked over to me. “Do you think 90 minutes will be enough?”
“Should be fine. I probably have more experience searching people’s rooms than you do.”
“Then I shall observe your technique.” He nodded toward the now-empty conference table. “Do you have any thoughts so far?”
I shrugged. “It could be any of them. I think it’s less likely that 84 or 47 would be responsible, but you never know. And 34 is really invested in those reports. She’d guard them with her life. I think 73, 17 and 22 are slightly more likely than the others, but only slightly.”
I searched the rooms swiftly, checking clothing, bedclothes, under the furniture and everywhere else I could think of. Halfway through the process I suggested to the Colonel that he check with the business centre manager, explaining my reasoning. He agreed and left, returning in a foul mood.
“There’s no one supervising the business room. Any guest can access it with their room key, but none of the staff can tell me if someone was in there yesterday afternoon. I spoke with the security officer and he’s just as useless as you said he was.”
For once we were in complete agreement. I hated to add to his mood, but commented, “It’s possible that whoever stole the report simply used their cellphone to take pictures of it and then shredded the original document. But I still have to finish searching the rooms, just in case. We may have to confiscate their phones to check.”
The Colonel sighed. “You’re right. Which means we won’t finish today. I’ll get back to the conference room and explain this to the team leaders. Meet me there when you’re through with the rooms.”
I completed my search but as I had feared might happen, I found nothing. I was returning to the meeting room when I heard someone cry out; it was faint enough that no one else in the lobby seemed to notice. Focusing my hearing I was fairly sure that I could hear distant sobbing, which had to be coming from one of the service corridors behind the walls of the lobby. I targeted an unmarked door, headed through it and saw one of the hotel maids leaning against a wall; beyond her someone was lying on the ground. The maid backed away, frightened, as soon as she saw me.
“I’m private security, assigned to the conference,” I said quickly. “Is there a problem?”
“I think she’s dead,” the maid gasped. I leaned over to see and realized that it was 34. The maid was right; 34’s face was congested and blue and she wasn’t breathing. She appeared to have been strangled, but I noted a trickle of blood down her cheek. Feeling her scalp, I realized there was swelling and a slight give on the right side of her head, indicating a possible skull fracture. Probably she had been hit hard enough to knock her out and then the killer had strangled her. Closing my eyes for a moment, I inhaled deeply and got a whiff of spicy aftershave. I pulled out a pen and notepad and began taking notes, which seemed to reassure the maid slightly. She hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual, and was returning from the laundry when she found the body.
“I think you should sit down for a few minutes. Where can I find the head of security? We’ll take care of this.” Locating Brice, I told him there had been an emergency and asked him to come to the conference room. The other attendees were waiting edgily for 34 to return, while the Colonel greeted me with a raised eyebrow. I announced: “I have some very unfortunate news for all of you. I have just discovered 34’s body in the service passage. It looks as though she was knocked out and strangled.”
“Have you called the police?” demanded Brice.
“No, and I don’t want you to do so just yet. This is a high security situation and the local police should not be involved.” Both 47 and 84 agreed, effectively silencing him. “I have some experience in investigating violent death,” I added. “Think of me as the equivalent of the police.”
“What are we going to do about the body?” the head of security objected.
“Sir, with your permission?” 22 asked 84 quietly. “I can cordon off the area. Perhaps you’ll come with me?” he added to Brice, who immediately agreed.
As they left, I looked at the others and said: “The report was not found in any of your rooms. However, it could have been photographed or scanned and the original destroyed. I need to request your phones as part of the investigation.” The two group leaders immediately placed their phones in the center of the table. 17 and 73 were somewhat more reluctant to hand in their phones but did so after a hard look from 47.
“Now, can you all tell me what you were doing during the last 90 minutes?” 47 and 84 alibied each other, as they had gone to the hotel bar to work on a joint presentation to the Ministry of Defence. 17 stated that he had gone for a walk in town; 73, after opening his mouth once or twice, said he had gone to the toilet and then to the business room “to get some work done.”
“I didn’t see you there,” said the Colonel, “and I was there while 68 was searching the rooms.”
73 paled. “Well, I was wandering about the hotel a bit. Admiring the architecture, don’t you know. We might not have been there at the same time.”
At this point, despite the evidence of the aftershave I had smelled on the body, I was seriously wondering whether 73 could have killed 34. He couldn’t have acted more guilty if he had tried. It was so blatantly obvious that he had something to hide that I was having trouble concealing a smirk. Then I caught 84’s thoughtful gaze and realized that he had been watching me. After that I had no difficulty keeping myself from smiling.
“Is something wrong, 68?” 84 asked.
“Yes, sir, there is.” I’m not one to address authority figures as “sir,” but I couldn’t help myself. I glanced at the Colonel. “Do you think we could step outside for a moment?” I asked quietly, then raising my voice to address the others, “We’re going to wait for 22 to return and get his alibi.”
I quickly explained my suspicions to the Colonel. “Do you think 17 and 34 could have been in a relationship? That’s the only other explanation I can think of for the aftershave scent.”
The Colonel frowned. He reached into his pocket and began jingling something absentmindedly. “I suppose it’s possible. At the very least, it means we have to question 17 further – ˮ
“What is that noise?” I broke in.
“Just a couple of coins I found. They were next to the copy machine in the business room.”
I stared at him. Just at that moment 22 returned. He said he had gone to the hotel restaurant to read the paper and have a sandwich during the break and had not noticed any of the others.
“I can vouch for him, 68,” the Colonel added. “We’ve worked together off and on and I have absolutely no reason to think he would be involved in this.”
I nodded. “We can use your help, then. Let me tell you what I think we should do next…”
We returned to the conference room and 22 resumed his seat while I explained his alibi to the others. “We still have to address the original reason we were called here, however, and I’m going to do that first. 73, why did you steal the document and what did you do with it?”
73 began to stand, but before he could say or do anything 22 pinned him back into his chair. “We know it was you. Don’t bother to deny it. You left evidence in the business room,” he snapped.
73 began to tremble. “I didn’t kill anyone! I didn’t!” he stammered.
“That isn’t what I asked you. Why did you steal the report?” I repeated.
“I needed the money.” The engineer slumped in his chair. “I have a daughter who is developmentally disabled, and my wife has been ill. We had to have therapists, nurses… I’m at the point of declaring bankruptcy. I had to do it.”
“We could have helped,” 84 said. “We have facilities…”
“We’ve always had my daughter at home. She wouldn’t understand if we sent her away, she would have been frightened.” 73 glared across the table. “And then he found out and blackmailed me! He saw me in the business centre yesterday and realized I had a copy of the report. He slipped me a note this morning saying he knew what I’d done and he wanted a cut of the money. We met in the service passage and 34 followed us, heard us arguing. She was furious. She said she’d see to it that we’d pay for stealing the report. Before I could do anything, he hit her over the head and told me ‘Get the hell out of here, I’ll deal with you later.’ It was him!”
He was, of course, looking at 17. The Colonel had moved casually to stand behind him as I questioned 73. Before anyone could move, 17 pulled a gun and said calmly, “Get away from me, Stuart. It’s time for me to leave.” As the colonel backed off, he stood and began moving toward the door, but then turned around. “In for a penny, in for a pound. It’s time to settle an old score!”
As he spoke 17 aimed his gun at the Colonel, but I wasn’t having that. Before he could fire, I moved my fastest and grabbed his arm; the gun went off and fired into the floor. The next moment I shoved him face-first into the wall with his arm twisted behind him. 22 was the first to react and went to help me, as the Colonel stood in front of the door to prevent 73 from escaping.
47, looking stunned, opened her mouth but before she could say anything 84 cut in. “Excellent work, 68. Your training certainly paid off.” He raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to 47, murmuring “Special program. It’s still a bit experimental.”
“Ah.” 47 no longer looked surprised. “Well, perhaps someday we could participate…”
“Perhaps.”
It was 47’s turn to take centre stage. She pulled an oddly misshapen weapon from her bag, walked forward and laid it on the table. “Martin Blaine,” she said, addressing 17, “as punishment for your actions you will be sent to Hazard Asylum. Or,” she tapped the weapon gently, “we can leave you alone with this. It’s your choice.”
17 shivered, as did I; I knew what being “sent to the Asylum” really meant. After a moment he said sullenly, “I choose option number two, Madam President.”
“Very well.” 47 gestured and we left the room. A few moments later smoke drifted from under the conference room door, as well as a horrible smell of burning. Lifting a nearby fire extinguisher from the wall, 47 said “Excuse me, gentlemen,” opened the door and directed a stream of foam at a puddle of smoking liquid on the carpet.
84 gestured to 22. “You know what to do. Get as much information out of him as you can, by any means necessary,” he said coldly. 22 nodded and marched 73 down the hall as 84 turned back to us. “Gentlemen, you’ve done an excellent job. I believe you’ve earned yourselves a drink. If you care to go to the hotel bar and order what you like, it will be taken care of.”
The Colonel glanced at his watch. “That’s very kind of you, but the last train will be leaving shortly –ˮ
“The train will be held,” 47 cut in. “Take your time.” She followed 22 down the hallway.
A few minutes later in a remote corner of the bar the Colonel was staring at me across the table as I quietly sipped my brandy.
“All right, Colonel?”
“Yes, thank you. It seems I owe you again, Mr. Jones.” He paused. “I know I’ve asked you this before, but I don’t suppose you’d care to explain how you were able to disarm Martin?”
“Well, you heard 84. There’s a special training program.” The Colonel sighed in exasperation as I shrugged. Just then 84 paused by our table.
“Don’t get up,” he commented as he pulled out a chair and sat. “I just wanted a chance to congratulate the both of you again. You did good work today.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the Colonel, “but most of the credit goes to 68.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Jones.” 84 gave me another searching look. “I’m glad we finally had a chance to meet. I used to supervise your former handler. James Belcourt, you remember him?”
“Indeed I do, sir. I still miss him.”
84 nodded understandingly. “A good man, he was. Had an eye for talent. I remember the day he came to me to get permission to recruit you. He said it would be a loss to the Organization if we missed this chance, he was quite emphatic about it. And clearly he was right.” He gave me a small smile. “I hope you will be with us for many years to come. Men with skills like yours are hard to find.”
“Ah, yes, sir. Thank you.” I stared after him as he left, until the Colonel cleared his throat.
“Best be getting along, Mr. Jones. They can’t hold that train forever.”
“No, Colonel, you’re quite right.” I finished my drink.
“Does he know something I don’t know?”
“I think you can bet on it, Colonel.” I smiled, stood up and let him precede me out of the bar. “Perhaps someday I’ll be able to tell you.”