"I have a question, and don't take this the wrong way, but Molly didn't put you up to this, did she?" I asked after a brief pause in which I tried without success to think of a better way to ask.
    "What?" He looked taken aback. "No."
    That would have made this more explicable. "Okay, just checking."
    "Molly?"
    "She's a friend of Scott's."
    "Why would you think that anyone had to be put up to—"
    "She's been doing this sort of thing lately, so I was just checking," I had to explain.
    "What, like trying to set you up with her nephew?" He might have been trying to make a joke.
    "Exactly."
    "Oh." He got it. "No, nothing like that."
    I tried to say it right. "I'm really not quite sure how to say this, but I think that maybe there's a wire crossed, somewhere."
    "No, I just thought that, you know, we'd get together and discuss flying, and planes and stuff. We seem to get along well..." he backtracked. "You didn't think that I was...."
    "I just wanted to make sure."
    "Oh, no. No."
    "That's good." I'm pretty sure everything was understood on both ends at that point, but I'm pretty wretched at this kind of thing.
    "So... when you can make it down," he said casually. "I know the rest of the guys in the office would like to talk to you, too."
    "We'll see what happens, then," I replied noncommittally.
    "Okay, uh, good. So I'll catch you later?"
    "Okay. Have a nice flight back." We went back outside.
    "Well, I'll see the rest of you guys later," he announced to the rest of the team, climbing back into the chopper.
    He doesn't seem upset, so I guess it's not a big deal. I have to admit to being a little bit baffled still. It's all a bit irritating, too; I do like the guys, and would like to go down at some point, but now I'm not sure if things would be too weird.
    "Do you mind if we leave the sub here for a little bit?" Scott asked J.T.
    "No, not at all." His expression was a bit too straight.
    I pointed a stern finger. "No playing."
    J. T. drew himself up in an offended pose. "I am a professional. I investigate, I don't 'play.'"
    "Well, anything you find that would be useful to know...." Scott suggested.
    "Just in case." J. T. nodded.
    "Just please don't let Mr. Masters steal this thing. I'd be very upset if this suddenly turned into the Manta Sub."
    "So would we! But since he wouldn't know how to reprogram it, it would be remarkably easy to deal with him."
    "That's true...." They shared a chuckle over the idea of just being able to make Manny go away.
    Meanwhile, I talked to Talon about something I'd been meaning to raise before our involuntary absence. "I would like you to follow Mr. Paulson. Because he's gotta be up to something. I know, I know, he's not the Toy Man. But there seem to be too many points of coincidence going on there." Maybe he's the number-one henchman, or something.
    "There is something going on," he agreed. "I think I'll break into his house."
    "You could do that." I paused. "I can't believe I just said that."
    Talon punched me on the arm. "You know, you've been loosening up a lot the past year."
    That's one way to put it. It was still early, and there was a lot left to do.

[Aside: Phoenix Talon]

    One of those things was to have a talk with Reilly about our League infestation.
    "We do have people watching the shop," he confirmed. "We also have people watching Mort's house."
    "Anything fun going on lately?"
    "The problem is, with it being an electronics shop, there are people who work there regularly, who go in and out," he shrugged. "We've done background checks on them to no real avail. Plus there are customers who come in and out, a couple of regulars."
    "It's a good cover," I had to admit.
    He did mention that, from what they've been able to tell, there is generally one fewer person in there than they think there should be. "He might have slipped out, they do have a back store-room; we can't check out the entire area. Or alternately, they're rotating people through into the weapons facility."
    "That would be my first guess."
    "That's ours as well, but we're continuing to do checks on these people. Nothing direct has come up yet."
    "No mysterious trucks pulling up in the middle of the night?"
    "No."
    "Well, at least they're not moving stuff out wholesale. Just building it." I chewed my lip, wondering what they were up to.
    "Just building it, for the moment. We've refrained from sending anyone in to try and get into the room after your warnings re building collapse, explosion; we figured we'd leave that to the professionals."
    "You are professionals."
    "Not at having a building fall on me. You, on the other hand, I understand it happens to four times a year?"
    "Year's not over yet," I replied with grim cheer.
    "As far as Mort is concerned, he seems to regularly meet with some of the fairly high rollers in the city. He's friends with a couple of senators, he's also an occasional coffee acquaintance of a couple of Kennedys. That writer who's in town, the friend of Shapiro's? She was there the other day. Hoagland. However, unfortunately there hasn't been anyone turning up wearing League of Nations lackey costumes at his house."
    "Okay. I'd like to have an idea of what their scheme is before we go in there." We need to make sure that when we do, they don't simply go to ground for a while and start all over again. Have to lure them out of hiding somehow.
    "I wish I could give it to you, but we are keeping a watch on things."
    "I'm just thinking out loud." Can't expect them to do our job for us.
    "The minute anything does happen, I'll let you know."
    "The moment something happens it'll probably be too late. Yeah, I'm an optimist," I admitted when Reilly sighed.
    "I don't know what you could do," he shrugged.
    "Well, why don' t you shoot the list of people who have been seen there regularly over to us."
    "You guys can run it through your sources." He nodded. "Will do."
    "I'll take a look. Oh, while I'm thinking about it, has 1-800 turned up in Chicago yet?"
    "No."
    "No?" I repeated, surprised. "Interesting."
    "You're still assuming they're directly connected with that law firm?"
    "Yeah."
    "Maybe they need someone in addition to the law firm. Local backer, or something."

[Aside: Scott]

    Later this evening I took a phone call at base.
    "Revolution."
    "Um, hi, Needle. This is, uh, Peter Paulson calling."
    "Oh hi, Mr. Paulson, how are you?" I was determined to be the soul of politeness after our last chat.
    "I'm fine, I'm fine. Um, I don't suppose Phoenix Talon is present?"
    "No, actually he's out right now, can I take a message?"
    "Is he out in the field, out?"
    "Couldn't tell you, he might be out on a date for all I know," I lied.
    "Oh, I would hate to interrupt anything like that. He came by the other day, with questions, saying he wanted to have a meeting."
    "Ah, yes. I think he did mention something about that."
    "I'm just wondering what his schedule was like. Plus we wanted to let you guys know of course that the first run of the cards has come out."
    "The what?"
    "The trading cards."
    "I see."
    "The Revolution in various action poses, plus some of their greatest villains. The press run was already going on," he hastened to add. "We're trying to do what we can in the future runs to abide by the suggestions that Phoenix Talon had made in my brief conversation with him the other day. But just let him know that if he comes across any of the packs, uh, there was nothing we could do about the run that was about to go out."
    "Yes, I'll tell him that. As far as the meeting, why don't you come out tomorrow morning?"
    "Come out?" He sounded just a bit alarmed. "All of our stuff is here, we were assuming that you'd be...."
    "Or we can do it at your office if you prefer." I wondered if I should be suspicious about his insistence on the venue. From what I know of him, you'd think he'd be thrilled at a chance to visit the base....
    "I think that would be better. We could have our full staff here ready to immediately deal with whatever questions Phoenix Talon or Thunderbolt or Scott have for us."
    "Okay. I'll leave a note for the guys then, and if there's a problem with the time someone will give you guys a call. Say nine thirty?"
    "Nine thirty's fine. Early morning, let's get this out of the way, clear decks and move on."
    "Sounds great."
    "Have you, uh, reconsidered by any chance? Did he mention that you came up in the conversation that we had?"
    "Yes, actually he did mention that."
    "So there is a window open, should you change your mind..."
    "I will attend the meeting tomorrow," I told him.
    "Oh. You will. That's... that's great. That's great."
    "We'll see where things go."
    "Thank you very much! We'll see you tomorrow, nine thirty, bright and early. There anything you're going to want? Coffee, donuts, danishes, tea?"
    "I think we'll be fine, thanks."
    "You're sure?"
    "Yeah."
    "Okay. Great." He hung up.
    If nothing comes out at the meeting, Talon can check his place for evidence, so tomorrow at least we should get a definitive answer on the extent of his involvement. I'd really like to find Albert. You'd think there'd be a ransom demand, or in the worst case some gloating. Nothing yet.

[Aside: A Couple of Interesting Scenes]

    On the theory that after all we've been through these past few weeks I deserve a night off, I headed over to the MIT library to look into the theoretical basis behind the late Mr. Rushdie's work.
    "Yes?" a student librarian greeted me a bit breathlessly.
    "Hi, I'm looking for information on pocket dimensions?"
    "Yes. This way." He nodded firmly and led the way. "Here you go."
    "Thank you very much."
    "Are you a student here?"
    "No."
    "Oh. These don't circulate."
    "That's fine. When do you close?"
    He gave me a blank look. "We're a college. We don't close. You just have to stay here."

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