"Do either of them know what's become of the batch of prepared catalyst allegedly taken from Tornelescu's laboratory?"
"Not so far as I know, sir."
"The situation seems clear enough to me, then." Commandant Padora's tongue bore a scalpel edge. "You hold the rank of special agent in this organization, Mr. Ross. That entails a certain obligation. Among other things, it means that when you're assigned a mission, you carry it out, without quixotic sidetrips to rescue maidens in distress."
Ross flushed even in the darkness of the com-booth. "Yes, sir."
"To save time for both of us, then, I suggest that from now on you remember you're masquerading under the name and in the garb of Lewis Thigpen for one purpose only: to decoy Tornelescu's killer out of hiding."
"Yes, sir."
"Then get on with it! That's an order!"
Ross swore beneath his breath as the line went dead. Savagely, he dialed another number.
A brisk male voice: "FedGov Building Seven."
"Get me Pike Mawson's office."