"None. Yet."
"After 2 months? You say? And no demands? What kind of black- mail is that?" Alex ineffectively stifled a laugh. "This sounds like some Washington paranoia. "You really don't know what to do without an adversary, so you create one," Alex chuck- led.
"Alex, c'mon. No shit, we got some muckity mucks with their heads in a tail spin and our asses in a sling. I don't know what's happening, but, whatever it is, it's causing a pile of shit bigger than Congress and smellier."
"And you thought I might know something about it?" Alex ven- tured.
"Well, no, or yes, or maybe," Templer said coyly. "Who's got a grudge? Against so many people? And then, who's also got the technology to do it. There must be a lot of smart people and money in on it. You have the best ears in Europe." The compli- ment might help.
"Thank you for the over-statement, but I have only a small group on whom I can rely. Certainly your own agency can find out before I can." Deniability and humility could raise the ante.
"We have our good days, but too many bad days." Templer was being sincere concluded Alex. "Listen, I need the streets. If there's nothing, then there's nothing. It could be domestic, but it smells of outside influence. Can you help?"
Alex stopped to light up a non-filtr Gaulloise. He inhaled deeply as his eyes scanned the clear sky. He wanted to have Templer think there might be something.
"How much is this information worth?" Alex was the perfect mercenary, absolutely no allegiance to anyone other than himself.
"We have about fifty grand for good info. But for that price, it had better be good."