“Jason Fisher. Jim Colton sent me. You do know him, right?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Like I said...I was sent here, just like you.”

  “Why. What the hell’s this all about?”

  “Well, sometimes you’re not always told everything.”

  “Yeah. I’ve just been through that with another person.”

  “What was that?”

  “Ah...nothing,” I said disgustedly.

  After hesitating a few seconds, then rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Jim wanted to make sure that if you needed help, it would be close by. Like...if there are any loose ends, I could lend a hand in tying them up.”

  “Not from this apartment, I hope.”

  “I’m not planning to stay here, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ll be at one of the other places.”

  “Good. I don’t want anyone on my heels.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll stay clear. I’ve got a job to do too, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t. Just what is it that you’re supposed to be doing? I wasn’t expecting a bodyguard, and I don’t need or want one.”

  “Things have changed over the last year or so. Colton and the other chiefs want backup. If something goes haywire, they want someone to step in and take up the slack. It’s not at all like it used to be, Harry. No more one man operations. That includes what Betty is going to be involved in. She’ll have a backup too.”

  “Jim never mentioned it. That makes it my fault for not knowing. They didn’t tell, and I didn’t ask. I should have.”

  “Like I said, no one can do it alone. You see, I was given your personnel file, complete with photos. It was very clear that you liked to work alone, and it produced exceptional results over the years. But, just like everything else in this crazy world, things change. That’s an accepted fact of life. Nothing stays the same and we have to keep up with the changes.”

  “I don’t seem to have a choice. By the way, do you know Betty?”

  “Not very well. I met her one time in Switzerland about six months ago. She was being briefed on some project, and I happen to be there at the same time. I reviewed her file also. She’s good at what she does, and the higher ups think she can help crack this one.”

  “I’m sure of it,” I said, reiterating his comment.

  “Well, I’ve got to be on my way.” His steps moving him closer toward the door. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Not too soon,” I bulked.

  He agreed and left. Having someone breathing down my neck just now, wasn’t my cup of tea. Since he was going to be here in LA, I couldn’t help thinking about who was going to be assigned to Betty.

  Our brains must have been working overtime together, because she called me.

  “Hello,” I said into the phone.

  “Harry, this is Betty.”

  “Well...Hello. It’s good to hear from you. Everything alright?”

  “I guess so. But I’ve got a little situation we need to talk about.”

  “O.K., we can do that,” I ensured her. “Let’s have it.”

  “It’s about a man that knocked on my door the day after you left. He said that Jim Colton had sent him. You know anything about it?”

  “Yeah...kind of. The same thing took place here.”

  “You mean, Jim sent someone to see you too?”

  “The man who came to see me insisted that it was a precautionary thing, and that you’d have a backup also. The one here is Jason Fisher. Said something about meeting you in Switzerland. Does the name ring a bell?”

  “I vaguely remember him, now that you mentioned it. I think you were right when you told me that this was going to be more involved than any other case. With these backups, it’ll make it so.”

  “You and I aren’t going to be in charge of our own thoughts as long as they’re on our tails,” I insisted,

  “You know Harry...maybe we are in charge, and they just want it to look like we’re not.”

  “That might be. It’s a good thought.”

  Just then, I heard a click in the phone.

  Hesitating for a moment, I said, “Well, Barbara, I think they’re looking out for us the best they know how.”

  She must have picked up on it also, and changed her tone to a more positive attitude.

  “I think you’re right. It’ll be good to have them in there with us for a change. Well...just wanted to touch base with you, and clear up this little matter.”

  “You take care, and I’ll see you in a week like we planned. Good night, Betty.”

  After the phone call, I knew we had to deal with our own people spying on us. I didn’t want to disturb anything in the apartment trying to find bugs. I’d let them rest where they were. Anything said within these walls from now on would only be what I wanted them to hear.

  I headed toward Vegas to get up with Betty. Stopping at a gas station, I used the pay phone to call her. She sounded a little on the nervous side, saying that things just weren’t going like she planned. Someone had screwed up, and people were tailing her and Mike everywhere they went. It was late afternoon when I pulled into the parking lot at Hoover Dam, where we had arranged to meet. I got out of the car and headed toward the sidewalk that overlooked the lake on the upper side. I noticed several police cars along the shore with their lights flashing, and police boats with nets behind them were dragging the edges of the lake. A bad feeling came over me, so I called Jerry. He told me that Betty had pushed the panic button on her special code phone, signaling that she was in serious trouble. A series of beeps indicated that she was still O.K. If the beeps turned to a steady signal, it meant her heart had stopped beating. That’s what had happened. The signal was steady. Mike’s and Jason’s were both reporting the same. All three were dead. He told me to get the hell out of there right now, and head back to LA. We’d have to come up with a new plan, with new players. I felt half sick about those three, especially Betty. But, the reality was...we had to keep going, know matter what happened. We would start over, from the beginning. The next six months would be an experience filled with tension, dispair and dissolution for all those involved.

  All the documents are in tact, which could mean only one thing ...... transmitted by satellite. Since we just found out about it in the last week, we’ve got to get going now. We’ve got to know how, when and where it’s happening and who the hell’s doing it. I want the son-of-a-bitch that’s heading up this thing. That’s where you come in.”

  “How do you know that Moscow has the information?” I asked.

  “One of our agents over there reported it to us. I guess we aren’t the only one screwing things up. There was a break of their security and he picked up on it. I don’t think he really knew what he had ...... just another piece of information to forward to my office.”

  “How much is getting out?” I asked.

  “Enough to hurt us ...... and that means we have to change our production plans around, because that portion isn’t secret anymore.”

  “Can you give me any leads?” I asked.

  “I have one that could be of help to you. Our agent mentioned a man by the name of Rudolph Heinman. He’s supposed to be in L.A. As it turns out, we have a file on him. He’s been rubbing elbows with known commies in L.A. for some time and had made trips to Europe under suspicious circumstances.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll start with that, and go on from there.” I said.

  “You know, Harry ...... There’s a lot of people around the world that think Communism is dead and gone because Russia split up their country. You and I both know that’s a bunch of crap. This is going to be one hell of an assignment for you. You’ll have some help from time to time, but most will have to be on your own. The fewer men involved the better. You can do this Harry. We need you to do it and as quickly as possible.”

  “Any more leads?” I asked.

  “Not really. Tomorrow afternoon, check into the Hilton in L.A. A room has already been reserved in your name. You’ll be met there at 3:00 o’clock by one of our men. He’s a little on the strange side, but he knows where Heinman is and he's been tailing him for about a week now. If you have to get in touch with me, use the private number.”

  “How will I know this guy?” I asked.

  “He’ll have a special credit card that you’ll recognize from the four sevens in the lower left hand corner, just like this one I’m giving you. Don’t try to charge anything on it, Harry.” he said chuckling. “It isn’t any good, because we made it up just for you two. Any other questions I can help with?” he asked.

  “No ... not right now. I’ll let you know later.”

  “If you’ll drop me at the airport, old boy, I have another plane to catch. No rest for us, is there?”

  “No, not much.” I answered.

  The next day I made it to L.A. and checked into the hotel. The clerk verified my reservation and handed me a key to 405. I unpacked my suitcase, fixed a drink and sat down to wait. Picking up the phone I dialed the Time of Day Service to check my watch. The recording came on, “At the tone, the time will be exactly 2:32 PM.” I laid the receiver down in it's cradle, walked over to the window and leaned against the wooden frame. Looking down, I could see the street below filled with people hurrying in all directions; some seemed as though they didn’t know which direction they were going. There were realists and non-realists, rich and poor, the strong believers and those who didn’t give a damn either way. But that’s the way things are, I thought. I glanced at my watch again, and it was 3:10 and still nothing. Maybe something went wrong. Just then, a knock at the door relieved my thinking powers. I opened the door and there stood a short fat gent in his middle or late thirties. He was dressed in a bright checked sport coat, that almost knocked my eyes out, and yellow slacks. His hair was kind of bushy and he had a beard to match. Jerry wasn’t kidding about him.

  “Afternoon, he said. I’m Roscoe Baker, may I come in?”

  He slipped by me and I closed the door as he walked to the middle of the room.

  “Ah ...... you don’t know me, Mr. Silver. I was supposed to meet you here at 3:00, but I had to make sure I wasn’t followed.”

  He reached in his wallet and pulled out a card, handing it to me. In the lower corner were the four sevens. I started to show him mine, and he put up his hand like a policeman stopping traffic.

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Silver. I know who you are.”

  “Call me, Harry. It makes me feel old when people call me Mister,” I said.

  “Did Jerry fill you in on what’s going on?”

  “Somewhat. He told me you would know where to find a man called Heinman. It’s really the only starting point we have at the moment.”

  “I know where he is, but keeping track of him isn’t easy,” he said. “We can get started tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven since he usually leaves his place about, eight. Maybe the two of us can figure out what he’s up to. After a week, I’m still puzzled.”

  “We’ll take it one step at a time and hope for the best,” I said.

  “O.K. Harry. See you at seven. By the way, call me Ross.”

  “Ross, it is,” I replied.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon going over some papers Jerry had given me in San Francisco, about Heinman’s background. There was enough there to arouse my curiosity, but the same question kept running through my mind......is he just a hired stooge or something more?

  Ross was on time as he drove up to the curb in front of the hotel. I got in and we drove to a high rise apartment complex on Wilshire Boulevard on the West side.

  “He must be doing alright for himself,” I said. “This part of the city is for the upper class.”

  “It is,” Ross said. “Most of the time he has his car brought around to the front, and sometimes he’s picked up by a woman.”

  “Do you think she’s his girl friend?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. They go out to dinner, meet with other couples and party. Besides, it isn’t always the same girl.”

  “Well......I guess even those guys need a little lovin’ once in a while,” I said smiling.

  “I didn’t think they did that sort of thing,” he said as we both laughed.

  Thirty minutes later, Heinman’s car was brought around to the entrance of the building. Our car was in the parking lot and situated so we could pull out in a hurry if we had to and we could see the entrance door clearly. In a few minutes, Heinman appeared with another man walking with him. I put the camera to my eye and snapped a close up with the telephone lens. They stopped on the sidewalk, talked for a couple of minutes, then Heinman got into his car and drove off. I watched to see what the other guy was going to do, as Ross started the car and eased out to follow Heinman. The doorman motioned for a taxi, and the man got in. Noting the time, I wrote down the taxi cab number.

  We followed Heinman to a small airport about 15 miles from the apartment complex. He entered the small operations building and then went out the side door to where the planes were parked. He was carrying an attache case and one other small piece of hand luggage, indicating that the trip would be a short one. He and the pilot were the only ones boarding the small two engine Cessna airplane. I asked Ross to check with the Flight Service Center to see if the pilot had filed a flight plan, showing the destination. Ross said the plane belonged to a charter service on the airport and that the passenger made regular flights every two weeks or so to Las Vegas, and that he usually returned in two or three days. That put a stop to our surveillance of Heinman for now. I wanted to have a look at his apartment and this was as good a time as any.

  “Can we get in his place without being seen?” I asked.

  “There’s a back entrance next to the rear parking lot, but it takes a special type card to operate the electronic lock.”

  “Any others that you know of?” I asked.

  Ross thought for a moment. “There’s a fire door on the basement level.”

  We drove the car around the back of the building, to some steps leading down. He parked the car behind the trash dumpster, and we headed for the fire door. Ross carried all kinds of tools in his car, and with an alien wrench, opened it.

  “Good, let’s go to work,” I said anxiously.

  We walked up to the second floor and then took an elevator to the twenty first. Ross used a lock pick to open the door to Heinman’s apartment. Getting inside in a few moments, I closed the heavy drapes and turned on a table light.

  “I’ll get the living room. See what you can find in there,” I said, pointing to the bedroom.

  After a thorough search, without finding anything, I went to the den. Going through the closet, bookshelves, file cabinet and table drawers......nothing. I started on the desk and found one drawer locked; which wasn’t unusual. Everyone has valuables of some kind they want to keep under lock and key. I borrowed the lock pick from Ross and managed to open it. I found an envelope with about two thousand dollars in it, a revolver and a note book. Three file folders marked with hotel names, had a couple dozen 8 X 10 glossy photos of Las Vegas show girls. Each photo had a notation in the upper right corner, that read: “Hired”, “?”, or “Good Prospect”. Several had a large red “X” drawn from corner to corner, I suppose indicating he wasn’t interested or visa-versa.

  “Ross,” I called. “Come look at this.”

  He came over to the desk and I showed him the photos.

  “What do you make of these?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. Maybe the guy gets turned on by show girls. That would explain the trips, but whatever he’s got going for him, he isn’t leaving any clues laying around here,” Ross Said.

  We put everything back exactly like it was, locked the drawer, turned out the light and opened the drapes. We departed the building the same way we entered, got back in the car and drove to a restaurant for a late dinner.

  2

  DESTINY TAKES A HAND

  First thing the next morning, I went to see Bill Maxwell, who is in charge of the West Coast Surveillance Division for the Government. He’s been a friend of mine for many years and before he came to L.A. we worked together in the CIA as a team. We lived through good times and bad. When you work together that close, knowing that your very existence depends on each others responsiveness to situations......you become life long buddies. I know I could count on him for whatever help I needed. When I walked into his office, he was seated at his desk with his head buried in mounds of paperwork surrounding him. I stepped to one side of the file cabinet, and leaned my elbow on it.

  “Can I interrupt you for a minute,” I asked, changing the pitch of my voice.

  “Yeah, what do you want, I’m busy, can’t you see that,” he snapped without looking up.

  “It’s me......Harry.” I said.

  Glancing up, he got a big grin on his face. “Harry, you old bastard. How the hell are you? Jesus, it’s good to see you.”

  He shook my hand till I thought it was going to fall off.

  “It’s good to see you too, Bill. Looks like you’re doing pretty good.” I said.

  “I am......I am doing good. Are you still with the Agency?” he asked.

  “Yeah, still with the Agency.”

  “Do you like the West Coast?”

  “It’s wonderful and I like L.A. I guess you think I’m crazy to like this big place, but it is great. You can eat in a different restaurant every night for a year and not, hit the same place twice. There’s much to see, things to do, and places to. Sooo......how’s your private life?” I asked. “You always were the one to go to the ends of the earth for a little excitement.”

  “Not anymore. I’m married now, to a wonderful woman......and I have two kids.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d settle down or even think of getting married.”

  “It happened kind of suddenly......we met......had dinner a few times......talked a lot and before long, I asked her to marry me.”

  “I think it’s great and I’m happy for you.” I said.

  “What about you, Harry. You married yet?”