Stern nodded. "Yes," he admitted, "at least, they did have the sense to pick up Masterson—after he'd done plenty of damage. They were pretty slow. And they missed the Michaels boy entirely. So now, the Waern boy is out of easy reach." He frowned.
"We had things set up for an elimination on him, you know."
Gorham wagged his head. "Makes very little. Him, we can get. Him, they take care of in a couple days. Same operation, they should just move it a few miles, eh? Your boy with all them buttons, he takes care of that, see?" He grinned.
"And that takes care of this Michaels kid, too." Again, he poked at the papers.
"And here, we got another report. This young Michaels' father, he talks to this guy Masterson on the phone. You see that? And right away, he heads for the mountains. Maybe he wants to talk to the hill people, eh?" His grin became wider.
"But somebody at Riandar, he gets a rush of brains to the head, see? And the border patrol, they challenge this old guy, you get it? Just a routine check, see, but the old guy, he don't get the word so quick.
"So they don't take no chances up there. They knock him down in some canyon up there." He shrugged.
"So all this leaves this Masterson, you could talk to him, maybe he sings us some nice music." He turned away.
"I stay around, back at my desk. Maybe I should think of a question or two while we talk, the three of us, eh?"