"I don't get it," Reilly admitted, frowning.
    "O. R. Bouros?"
    "It's okay, Reilly, I don't know what the hell he's talking about either," Talon said.
    Scott gave up. "So, at this point we're still looking for him, but frankly I figure he probably abandoned that identity after getting all his stuff out of there."
    "I still don't know why the Resurrectionist would be tied with 1-800-HENCHMEN," our liaison confessed.
    I nodded. "It does seem to be a bit of a change of pace. Flesh gardens to goofballs."
    "Well, I did say that it might in fact have been somebody that took over his stuff," Scott reminded us.
    "You think someone just found the equipment and started using it?" Reilly asked.
    "Found the equipment, knew where it was, whatever. I don't know at this point, I'm still looking."
    "Should we keep looking through the Theater District, see if they've found a new location?" I wondered.
    "Can't hurt," Scott shrugged.
    "I'm sorry, Thunderbolt, you keep saying you want to say something?" Reilly looked at our newest member.
    He cleared his throat. "Last time I was at AMP, I had the opportunity to look through one of Peter's little scrapbooks of all of us, big folder of articles and pictures, and apparently a couple of Toy Man plots that we haven't seen yet." He told us about the storyboards, something about "the Revolution's archenemy the Toy Man," operating in the background of other plots.
    "Told you! I told you!" Talon crowed.
    "Yes, yes, you told us," I sighed.
    "Obviously doesn't confirm anything, but I thought it was of interest."
    Another link in the chain of circumstantial evidence. "That's very interesting."
    "Told you. It's a complete setup." Vindicated in his own mind, Phoenix Talon sat back in his chair and folded his arms.
    "I feel like there's something I'm not seeing," Thunderbolt added with a frown.
    "Well, you guys are around them all the time," I shrugged. Shouldn't be too hard to keep an eye on Mr. Paulson & Co.
    "Also, I was talking with Stephanie at the publicity event," he said to Scott.
    "Oh, she was there?"
    "She had mentioned that Felix had been acting a little odd lately."
    "Yeah, he took off earlier today."
    "She mentioned that he—she described it as an ex-smoker," he explained.
    "Pacing a lot?" I asked.
    "Pacing, jittery, especially after he'd visited the island."
    "That doesn't sound like anything good," I sighed.
    "Anyone here speak Greek?" Scott asked out of the blue, to a table full of shaking heads.
    "And now he's gone?" I resumed the thread of the conversation.
    Scott nodded. "He got a package today, said he had to leave for a few days, and right out."
    "Huh. Okay, we know he's not up to anything because he'd be a lot more subtle about it," I said hopefully.
    "Anything else?" Reilly asked.
    "Somewhere's around the end of the week I should have the finalized maps of the tunnels under the city," Scott added. That should be useful.

[Aside: Privateer, Phoenix Talon]

    This afternoon the phone rang, as it so often does. I wonder if the budget could afford a receptionist.
    "Revolution," I answered.
    "Hi, this is Peter Paulson, is Phoenix Talon there?"
    "No, he's unavailable at the moment, is this an emergency or can I take a message?"
    "I was hoping actually that you'd be able to put me through to him. Apparently he's gone off to Worcester to deal with a supervillain there?"
    "Yes," I confirmed cautiously, wondering how in hell he'd known that.After the meeting this morning, I was primed to be suspicious.
    "Well, this is a perfect opportunity! We need to get some of our publicity people there, in order to catch all of this," he went on in a tone suggestive of explaining the simple to the stupid.
    "I'm sorry, he's on a case," I pointed out.
    "We won't be getting in his way or anything—"
    "No, you won't, 'cause you're not going out there!"
    "But it would simply make it so much easier—"
    "Mr. Paulson, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but no."
    He didn't seem to be comprehending. "Miss Needle, I understand that we haven't necessarily gotten along, 'cause you haven't agreed to go along with things, but you have to understand, this is a perfect opportunity, and it is part of the contract that he signed—"
    "Mr. Paulson," I interrupted sharply. "I've seen the contract, and I'm entirely certain that it did not say you could shadow him while he was working."
    "It's not a shadowing, we're not going to follow him, we're merely going to be in the area in order to capitalize on the naturally occurring publicity!" he insisted.

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