She slipped past silently to the tent entrance where the Tuareg guard noticed she paused for a long moment before entering. He grinned into his teguelmoust. Aiii, the little bird was timid before the hawk.
She stood for a moment listening, and then slipped inside, dropping the desert musical instrument to the ground. Dave Moroka's back was to her and even as she entered he flicked off the switch of the video-radio into which he had been speaking and scowled at it.
When he stood and began to turn, she covered him with the small pocket pistol. She had an ease in handling it which denoted competence.
His eyebrows went up, but he remained silent, waiting for her gambit.
Isobel said evenly, "You're a Party member, aren't you, Dave?"
"Why do you say that?"
She nodded infinitesimally to the set. "You were reporting just now. I heard enough just as I came in."
He took in her disguise. "My guard isn't as efficient as I had thought," Dave said wryly.
Isobel said, "You knew Abe Baker, didn't you?"
He looked at her, expressionlessly.