"That's right. When you were gone yesterday the colonel dropped in to
see you. He asked me if you were working on the replacement for George
Fisher ... I told him you were right on the job. And I showed him the
information sheets you had on all seven men."
"You did what!!"
"And Colonel Waters liked the man named Boles best of all. So I guess
when Mr. Boles comes in you can tell him the job is his."
"You nitwit!" he bellowed. "You brainless, knuckleheaded ..." He stomped
into his office, and slammed the door.
It was difficult for him to think clearly. He knew he had to make a
move. And fast.
He stood by the window and gazed at the Weapons Development Center
across the parade ground. The low gray buildings had a quiet peaceful
aura about them. If it weren't for the guards marching in front of the
great wire fences anyone might think the place was used for
manufacturing can-openers, automobile parts, any one of a thousand
harmless products.
But it wasn't. Weapons Development represented a vital link in the
country's defense program. He no longer figured they were developing a
weapon to counteract Soviet aggression. They were working on something
far more important. He was just ninety percent sure of that.
* * * * *
Mr. Boles was the first to arrive. He sat in an easy chair which Harry
had moved close to his desk in order to better observe the man.
"Mr. Boles, my secretary tells me Colonel Waters was looking at your
qualifications yesterday and was very impressed. I gather from that that
the job is yours."
"Thank you, sir."
Harry shoved his chair closer to him. The toupee was intact. So was the
mustache.
"Now it'll take the government about two weeks to complete a security
check-up."
He could see plainly now that the man was also wearing false eyebrows
and had no beard. That did it.
"I understand, sir," Boles replied.
"So all I can tell you at the moment is that you'll be hearing from us
as soon as possible." Harry got up thinking the interview was over.
Mr. Boles remained seated.
"Miss Ralston would like to see you, Mr. Payne."
"Oh, yes," Harry chuckled, "I'm going to see her this evening."
"She wants to see you now."
"Afraid I can't make it right now. I have a pile of work to do. Besides
I'm expecting another client of hers. Have to let him know he didn't get
the job."
"Mr. Chase is waiting for us downstairs in the car. You will come with
me, Mr. Payne." The order was clear and firm.
Harry didn't like it. "I don't get it. What's so important that Miss
Ralston has to see me ..."
He stopped at the sight of the gun leveled at his chest.
"When we pass your secretary's desk, you will tell her you are taking an
early lunch. I will return you in an hour if you cooperate."
Harry Payne knew better than to argue.
* * * * *
Mr. Chase was seated behind the wheel of a blue sedan. Boles and Harry
climbed into the back seat. They drove away from Fort Dickson toward the
city.
The two men remained silent during the trip. Harry had plenty of time to
think. Why this sudden move of Paula's? He must have done something to
motivate it. But what?
The only person he had talked to was Frank Barnes and he hadn't divulged
anything to him. She couldn't be sore because he had asked Frank to
check on her. Routine investigation was part of his job. She knew that.
He failed to come up with an answer. He was worried. He knew who the
seven men were but he didn't know where they came from. It could have
been any one of a million different places. Heaven only knew what kind
of people they were.
The shades were drawn in Paula's apartment. There was no sign of her.
But as soon as Harry entered the room he forgot about her anyway. His
gaze rested upon the small, roundish man sitting in the contour chair,
the bald man with no eyebrows and no beard.
"Please be seated, Mr. Payne." The man's tone was soft and courteous.
"Which one are you?" Harry asked.