is quite intense-isolation can do that, you know--even to the point that he thinks his own embassy is compromised-"
"It's Latham!" interrupted the German.
"The symptoms are predictable."
"What symptoms? What do you mean?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. As you say, isolation can do strange things to people.. .. What did he want?"
"Possibly French protection, is what we gather. My man's to meet him at the Metro station, the Georges Cinq stop at two o'clock this afternoon, toward the rear of the platform."
"I must be there!" shouted Gerhardt.
"It's not advisable, nor is it the policy of the Bureau to involve the hunted with the hunter, monsieur, when they are not part of our organization."
"You don't understand, I must be with you!"
"Why is that? It could be dangerous."
"Not to me, never to me."
"Now I don't understand you."
"You don't have to! Remember the Brotherhood, it is what you must obey, and I'm giving you your orders."
"Then, of course, I must obey, Herr Doktor. We meet on the platform at ten minutes to two o'clock. Not before or after, is that understood?"
"I understand."
Moreau did not hang up the phone; instead, he pressed the disconnect button and touched the digits that connected him to his most trusted subordinate officer.
"Jacques," he said calmly, "we have a very important confrontation at two o'clock, just you and me.
Meet me downstairs at one-thirty and I'll fill you in. Incidentally, carry your automatic, but fill the magazine with blanks."
"That's a very strange request, Claude."
"It's a very strange confrontation," said Moreau, hanging up the phone.
Drew looked into the mirror, his eyes wide in shock.
"For Christ's sake, I look like a Disney cartoon!" he roared.
"Not really," said Karin, standing above him over the kitchen sink and taking the mirror from him.
"You're just not used to it, that's all."
"It's preposterous! I look like the leader of a gay rights parade."
"Does that bother you?"
"Hell, no, I've got a lot of friends in that crowd, but I'm not one of them."
"It can be washed out in a shower, so stop complaining. Now, put on the uniform and I'll take some photographs for Colonel Witkowski, then adjust the trousers."
"What has that son of a bitch got me into?"
"Basically, saving your life, can you accept that?"
"Are you always so logical?"
"Logic and the illogically logical saved Freddie's life more times than I can tell you. Please put on the uniform."
Latham did as he was told, returning two minutes later as a full colonel in the United States Army.
"A uniform becomes you," said De Vries, observing him, "especially when you stand up straight."
"One doesn't have any choice in this coat---excuse me, tunic.
It's so damn tight, if you don't arch your spine, you're punctured somewhere and can't breathe. I'd make a lousy soldier. I'd insist on wearing fatigues."
"Regulations wouldn't permit it."
"Another reason why I'd make a lousy soldier."
"Actually, you'd probably be a good one, as long as you were a general."
"Hardly likely."
"Hardly." Karin gestured toward the foyer.
"Come into the hallway, I'm set up. Here are your glasses." She handed him a pair of heavy tortoise shells
"Set up? Glasses?" Drew looked over at the short hall that greeted a visitor from the front door. There was a camera on a tripod aimed at a blank off-white wall.
"You're a photographer too?"
"Not at all. Frequently, however, Freddie needed a new photograph for a different passport. He instructed me how to use this, not that I needed any instructions. It's an instant -picture camera sized down to passport dimensions.. .. Put on the glasses and stand against the wall. Take off the hat; I want the full glory of your blond hair evident."
A few minutes later De Vries had fifteen small Polaroid photographs of a light-haired, bespectacled colonel, looking as grim and uncomfortable as any passport picture.
"Splendid," she decreed.
"Now let's go back to the couch; where I've got my equipment."
"Equipment?"
"The trousers, remember?"
"Oh, this is the good part. Should I take them off?"
"Not if you want them to fit. Come along."
Fifteen minutes later, having suffered only two painful punctures of a straight pin, Latham was ordered back into the guest room to resume his normal appearance. Again he returned, now to find Karin at the alcove table, on which was placed a sewing machine.
"The trousers, please."
"You know, you're blowing my mind, lady," said Drew, handing her the army issue.
"Are you some kind of female deep-cover factotum who works behind the scenes?"
"Let's say I've been there, Monsieur Latham."
"Yes, it's not the first time you've said that."
"Accept it, Drew. Besides, it's none of your business."
"You're right there. It's just, as