troops in Belgium-and came to think he was invincible.
At the end he was as fanatic as his enemies."
"Then you understand where I come from when I say I never trusted your husband."
"Naturally. Our last months in Amsterdam were not days I care to relive."
Suddenly the door to Witkowski's bedroom flung open, Latham in its frame.
"Bingo!" he shouted.
"You were right, Stanley. That bastard down there in the street is Reynolds, Alan Reynolds in Communications!"
"Who?"
"How many times have you gone down to Communications, Stosh?"
"I don't know. Maybe three or four times in the last year.),
"He's the mole. I saw his face."
Chapter Sixteen
"Then something's about to happen, and I suggest we take countermeasures."
"What do we do and where do we start?"
"Mrs. de Vries-Karin-would you please go to my bedroom window and let us know what develops?"
"On my way," said Karin, rising from the couch and running into the colonel's room.
"Now what?" asked Drew.
"The obvious," answered Witkowski.
"Weapons first."
"I have an automatic with a full clip." Latham pulled the gun from his belt.
"I'll give you another one with an extra clip."
"You're expecting the worst, then?"
"I've been expecting it for nearly five years now, and if you haven't, it's no wonder your flat was blown apart."
"Well, I have this instrument that stops anyone from opening the door."
"No comment. But if the bastards send two or three after you, Lord love a duck, I'd surely like to ship a couple back to Washington. It'd make up for the one we lost there." The colonel walked to an imposing Mondrian print on the wall and swiveled it back, revealing'a safe. He spun the dial back and forth, opened the large vault, and withdrew two sidearms and an Uzi, which he clipped to his belt. He threw an automatic to Drew, who caught it, followed by a clip of ammunition which Latham missed; it fell to the floor.
"Why didn't you throw them both at once?" said an irritated Drew, bending down to retrieve the clip.
"I wanted to watch your reactions. Not bad. Not good, but not bad."
"Did you also mark the bottle?"
"Didn't have to. With what's left in your glass, you've had maybe a couple of ounces during the last hour. You're a big fella, like me;
you can handle it."
"Thank you, mother. Now what the hell do we do?"
"Most of it's been done. I simply have to activate the externals."
Witkowski walked to the kitchen sink, unscrewed the chromium faucet in the center, reached into the orifice, and pulled out two wires; each end was capped with a small plastic terminal. He broke the seals and pressed the wires together; five loud beeps filled the adjoining rooms.
"There we are," said the colonel, replacing the faucet and returning to the living room area.
"Where are we, 0 Wizard?"
"Let's start with the fire escapes; in these old buildings there are two-one in my bedroom, the other over there in the alcove, in what I foolishly call my library. We're on the third floor, the building has seven. By activating the external security devices, the fire escapes between the top of the second floor and the bottom of the fourth are electrified, the voltage sufficient to cause unconsciousness but not death. ""Suppose whoever the evil people are simply walk up the stairs or take the elevator?"
"Naturally, one has to respect the privacy and civil rights of one's neighbors. There are three other flats on this floor. My apartment is on the left front quadrant, the door twenty feet from the nearest resident on my right. You probably didn't notice, but there is a thick, rather attractive Oriental runner leading to my door."
"Arid once you turn on your externals," interrupted Latham, "something happens when the bad guys step on the rug, is that it?"
"You're exactly right. Four-hundred-watt floodlights go on, accompanied by a siren that can be heard in the place de la Concorde."
"You won't catch anybody that way. They'll run like hell."
"Not on the fire escape; and if they use the stairs, they'll come right into our welcoming arms."
"What? How?"
"On the floor below is a miscreant, a Hungarian who deals in, shall we say, misappropriated jewels. He's barely above small-time and does no great harm, and I've befriended him. A phone call or a tap on his door and we wait inside his apartment. Whoever comes racing down these stairs will have bullets in their legs-I trust you're a decent shot, I wouldn't want anyone killed."
"Colonel!" Karin de Vries's voice from the bedroom was emphatic.