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"Admiral Sandecker's idea."
"I knew he hired a security agency, but I had no idea they had magical powers and could appear out of nowhere. All that was missing was a puff of smoke."
"They're very efficient," said Pitt.
"I was briefed on your situation in Telluride," said Gunn, sinking into a chair. "The word circulating around town is that your life isn't worth two cents."
Pitt brought him a glass of iced tea from the kitchen. Gunn seldom drank anything with alcohol except an occasional beer. "Not to those jokers from the Fourth Empire. I suspect they'll spare no expense to inter me in a tomb."
"I took the liberty of looking under a few rocks." Gunn paused and downed half the glass of iced tea.
"I met with some friends at the CIA--"
"What interest could the CIA possibly have in a domestic crime?"
"They suspect the killers you ran up against in the Pandora Mine might be part of an international crime syndicate."
"Terrorists?" asked Pitt.
Gunn shook his head. "They're not religious or cult-driven fanatics. But their agenda is still secret. CIA operatives, Interpol agents-- nobody's been able to penetrate the organization yet. All the foreign intelligence agencies know is that it exists. Where it operates from or who controls it, they haven't a clue.
Their killers show up, as they did in Telluride, murder their victims, and vanish."
"What crimes are they involved in, besides murder?"
"That seems to be a mystery, too."
Pitt's eyes narrowed. "Who ever heard of a crime syndicate with no motives?"
Gunn shrugged. "I know it sounds crazy, but they have yet to leave even a tiny thread."
"They've got two of the scum in Telluride to interrogate."
Gunn's eyebrows rose. "You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"A Sheriff Eagan from Telluride, Colorado, called Admiral Sandecker only an hour ago. The prisoners were found dead."
"Damn!" Pitt snapped irritably. "I expressly told the sheriff to search them for cyanide pills."
"Nothing so mundane as poison. According to Eagan, a bomb was smuggled into their jail cell. They were blown to pieces, along with a deputy who was on guard nearby."
"Life is cheap to these people," Pitt said acidly.
"So I gathered."
"What's the next step?"
"The admiral is sending you on a deep-sea geological project in the middle of the Pacific, where you'll be reasonably safe from any more assassination attempts."
Pitt grinned slyly. "I won't go."
"He knew you'd say that." Gunn grinned back. "Besides, you're too important in the investigation to send off to the boondocks. As it stands, you've had more contact with this group than anyone else, and lived to tell about it. High-level investigators want to talk to you. Eight o'clock in the morning. . ." He paused to hand Pitt a slip of paper. "Here's the address. Be there. Drive your car into the open garage and wait for instructions."
"Are James Bond and Jack Ryan coming, too?"
Gunn made a wry face. "Funny" He finished off the iced tea and walked outside onto the balcony overlo
