On the way, he stopped in at another small office, this one inhabited by the two FBI men from Las Vegas. He gave a series of quick orders, and got the satisfaction, as he left, of seeing one of the FBI men grabbing for a phone in a hurry. It was good to be doing things again, important things.
Burris, Boyd and Dr. Gamble were still talking as Malone entered.
"That," Burris said, "was one hell of a quick lunch. What's Her Majesty doing now—running a diner?"
Malone ignored the bait. "Gentlemen," he said solemnly, "Her Majesty has asked that all of us attend her in audience. She has information of the utmost gravity to impart, and wishes an audience at once."
Burris looked startled. "Has she—" he began, and stopped, leaving his mouth open and the rest of the sentence unfinished.
Malone nodded gravely. "I believe, gentlemen," he said, "that Her Majesty is about to reveal the identity of the spy who has been battening on Project Isle."
The silence didn't last three seconds.
"Let's go," Burris snapped. He and the others headed for the door.
"Gentlemen!" Malone sounded properly shocked and offended. "Your dress!"
"Oh, no," Boyd said. "Not now."