"Nothing simpler in the world. We just find the guy." The Nasty
Frenchman's grin widened. "Then after we find him, we tell our friend
Jeff about it. Nothing more. Jeff'll take it from there. Right, Jeff?"
Jeff's heart pounded against his ribs. "That's right," he said, his
voice hoarse with eagerness. "Just find him for me."
Harpo bent over slowly, poured another cup of coffee. "Then let's talk
plans," he said softly.
* * * * *
The planning went smoothly. Jeff sat forward eagerly. The despair and
hopelessness of an hour before evaporated, leaving fingers of wild
excitement creeping through his muscles, up and down his spine. These
people knew where they were; they knew how to hunt in this evil place,
where to go, what to do. This was the help he needed to complete his
mission, the help he'd needed from the start. And now, at last, nothing
would go wrong. Carefully, the last trap was laid--the final drive in
this manhunt that had lasted so long and been so fruitless. This time
there would be no slip.
Harpo fingered the card thoughtfully. "These dates must have some
significance. Were there any signs of Conroe's visits here at those
times?"
Jeff shook his head. "No sign. He couldn't have been here for more than
three days at a time, or I'd have known about it."
Harpo grunted, his eyes sharp on Jeff's face. "And you had no definite,
direct evidence that he was somehow using an extra-sensory talent in
eluding you?"
Jeff scowled. "No direct evidence. I'm afraid not. There was no reason
to suspect it, until I found the card. Then hindsight started filling
in funny things that had gone unnoticed before."
Harpo nodded. "Yes. That's the way it would be. But Schiml must have
had direct enough evidence. This ESP study is just like space travel
was. They've been after it for years; they start after it time after
time, every time a new angle comes up. Because if they succeed it could
mean so much to so many people."
The Nasty Frenchman snorted. "Sure. Like running us out of paying jobs
for good and all, after all the risks we've taken. Open the door to ESP
for them, and there wouldn't be any other work in the Center for twenty
years. And if we don't happen to be what they're looking for--" He ran
his finger across his throat and scowled. "The man is here. We've got
to have information on him, past and present. That means we'll have to
search the Archives. There's no better approach." He turned his sharp
little eyes on Jeff. "You know how the electronic files work. You're
the one that can dig out what we need to know in the Archives."
Jeff nodded. "But I'll need time to work without interruption. Can you
get me into the Archive files without being caught?"
The Nasty Frenchman nodded eagerly. "Nothing to it. Give us half an
hour to clear the way and get the guards taken care of." He glanced up
at Harpo. "The old fire-alarm gag should do it, all right. Then you can
walk right down."
"And can you keep it clear for me, say, for an hour or so?"
"For five hours, if necessary." Harpo stood up sharply. "We'll start
now to get things lined up. When it's clear, I'll give you a flicker on
the phone. Don't answer it. Just come along. Blackie can draw you a map
while you wait." The bald-headed giant started to leave, then turned
back. "And don't let any alarm bells disturb you. We've found ways of
occupying guards before." He touched his forehead briefly, and he and
the Nasty Frenchman disappeared into the corridor.
* * * * *
"I think it'll work," Jeff breathed, tucking Blackie's crude penciled
map into his pocket. "I think we've got him. Once we know where he is
and what they're going to do with him--" He grinned up at her, his eyes
shining. "His time's running out, Blackie. He's as good as dead."
The girl leaned forward, pouring coffee, sitting silently. Jeff watched
her face, as if seeing it for the first time. Indeed, for the first
time, the girl's face seemed softer. In the dim light of the room,
the hard lines melted away, magically. Her face appeared younger and
fresher, as though some curious mask had dropped away in the course of
the evening.
But her eyes were troubled as she watched Jeff and lifted her coffee
cup in mock salute. "To the Hunter," she said softly.