Again he found himself hoping he was not right, and, more important, that Paula Ralston wasn't what he was beginning to think she was.

Miss Conway was already in when Harry arrived at the office. He managed a half smile for her.

"Miss Conway, two of the seven men are coming back this morning and ..."

"And Mr. Boles is the one who's getting the job."

"Who called you this time?" he asked with exasperation.

"Colonel Waters."

Harry's stomach muscles contracted. "Colonel Waters?"

"That's right. When you were gone yesterday the colonel dropped in to see you. He asked me if you were working on the replacement for George Fisher ... I told him you were right on the job. And I showed him the information sheets you had on all seven men."

"You did what!!"

"And Colonel Waters liked the man named Boles best of all. So I guess when Mr. Boles comes in you can tell him the job is his."

"You nitwit!" he bellowed. "You brainless, knuckleheaded ..." He stomped into his office, and slammed the door.

It was difficult for him to think clearly. He knew he had to make a move. And fast.

He stood by the window and gazed at the Weapons Development Center across the parade ground. The low gray buildings had a quiet peaceful aura about them. If it weren't for the guards marching in front of the great wire fences anyone might think the place was used for manufacturing can-openers, automobile parts, any one of a thousand harmless products.

But it wasn't. Weapons Development represented a vital link in the country's defense program. He no longer figured they were developing a weapon to counteract Soviet aggression. They were working on something far more important. He was just ninety percent sure of that.

Mr. Boles was the first to arrive. He sat in an easy chair which Harry had moved close to his desk in order to better observe the man.

"Mr. Boles, my secretary tells me Colonel Waters was looking at your qualifications yesterday and was very impressed. I gather from that that the job is yours."

"Thank you, sir."

Harry shoved his chair closer to him. The toupee was intact. So was the mustache.

"Now it'll take the government about two weeks to complete a security check-up."

He could see plainly now that the man was also wearing false eyebrows and had no beard. That did it.

"I understand, sir," Boles replied.

"So all I can tell you at the moment is that you'll be hearing from us as soon as possible." Harry got up thinking the interview was over.

Mr. Boles remained seated.

"Miss Ralston would like to see you, Mr. Payne."

"Oh, yes," Harry chuckled, "I'm going to see her this evening."

"She wants to see you now."

"Afraid I can't make it right now. I have a pile of work to do. Besides I'm expecting another client of hers. Have to let him know he didn't get the job."

"Mr. Chase is waiting for us downstairs in the car. You will come with me, Mr. Payne." The order was clear and firm.

Harry didn't like it. "I don't get it. What's so important that Miss Ralston has to see me ..."

He stopped at the sight of the gun leveled at his chest.

"When we pa.s.s your secretary's desk, you will tell her you are taking an early lunch. I will return you in an hour if you cooperate."

Harry Payne knew better than to argue.

Mr. Chase was seated behind the wheel of a blue sedan. Boles and Harry climbed into the back seat. They drove away from Fort d.i.c.kson toward the city.

The two men remained silent during the trip. Harry had plenty of time to think. Why this sudden move of Paula's? He must have done something to motivate it. But what?

The only person he had talked to was Frank Barnes and he hadn't divulged anything to him. She couldn't be sore because he had asked Frank to check on her. Routine investigation was part of his job. She knew that.

He failed to come up with an answer. He was worried. He knew who the seven men were but he didn't know where they came from. It could have been any one of a million different places. Heaven only knew what kind of people they were.

The shades were drawn in Paula's apartment. There was no sign of her.

But as soon as Harry entered the room he forgot about her anyway. His gaze rested upon the small, roundish man sitting in the contour chair, the bald man with no eyebrows and no beard.

"Please be seated, Mr. Payne." The man's tone was soft and courteous.

"Which one are you?" Harry asked.

The man was amused. "I am Mr. Thompson."

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, "you're the one who kept patting your skull.

Couldn't you find one that fit you?"

n.o.body was amused. Boles and Chase took positions on either side of Thompson. Their faces were drawn and sober. They resembled two bankrupt morticians.

"Where is the body beautiful?" Harry asked. "Or is she no longer the body beautiful?"

"Take a look for yourself." It was Paula's voice. The familiar sultriness was missing.

Harry swung around to see her emerge from the bedroom. "Well, well, well! If it isn't Miss Lonelyhearts. Mind if I ask why I'm here? I mean the gun and all?"

He had to be flippant. It was the only way he knew to conceal the terror he felt in their presence.