“No. I just want to know if you've heard anything new anti-my-side, from the other side. Or if you know of any fresh personnel recently from there.”
“Frankly, I haven't. If you could give me a hint.”
“I can't,” Larry said. “Look, Hans, like you say, you owe me a favor or two. If something comes up, let me know. Then I'll owe you one.”
The voice was jovial again. “It's a bargain, my friend.”
After Woolford had hung up, he scowled at the phone. He wondered if Hans Distelmayer was lying. The German commanded the largest professional spy ring in the world. It was possible, but difficult, for anything in espionage to develop without his having an inkling.
The phone rang back. It was Steve Hackett of Secret Service on the screen.
Hackett said, “Woolford, you coming [pg 010] over? I understand you've been assigned to get in our hair on this job.”
“Huh,” Larry grunted. “The way I hear it, your whole department has given up, so I'm assigned to help you out of your usual fumble-fingered confusion.”
Hackett snorted. “At any rate, can you drop over? I'm to work in liaison with you.”
“Coming,” Larry said. He hung up, got to his feet and headed for the door. If they could crack this thing the first day, he'd take up that vacation where it'd been interrupted and possibly be able to wangle a few more days out of the Boss to boot.