"So we keep finding out." He seemed to be thinking. "You know, I sent the layout to Paris when the job was finished. For the files." He didn't want to mention Pierre Armont, the head of ARM, on an unsecured line. "I'll see what the office there can get together for us."
"Do we have any people left on site?" Vance asked.
"Just contract," Spiros responded. "Locals and probably not worth much."
"Well, whoever they are, chances are good they've been neutralized by now. As a matter of fact, I fear the worst."
"That's our motto. Assume everything will go to hell and then work around it."
"Time to get off the air. I'll try to raise you at 1700 hours. On 2150 megahertz. By that time you'd better have the team lined up and ready to move in. I owe Bates this one. A nice clean job."
"Right. Who do you think we ought to use?"
"Anybody who worked on the security here would be good."
'That's got to be me," Spiros said ruefully.
"Okay. Beyond that, we'll need a first-class SWAT team. This one is going to be rough. We need somebody who can handle explosives like a brain surgeon, maybe Marcel, out of Antwerp. Get him if you can find him sober. Also, we probably could use a negotiator. Somebody who can keep them busy while we get the real insertion in place. And a good sniper will be essential. Lots of friendlies."