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Gomez, casually, eased his right hand into the jacket pocket that held his borrowed stun gun The door slid open. There was a bright cozy parlor across the threshold, furnished in black and white. There was a comfortable sofa, an armchair and wall high bookcases. But there was no sign of Jake, or anyone else, in the cell. Bascom was looking rumpled again. He was sitting on the edge of his desk, legs dangling, and noodling out a chorus of a twentieth century bop tune, "Un Poco Loco," on his saxophone. The desk vidphone buzzed. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html The Chief of the Cosmos Detective Agency set the sax aside. "What?" he asked, turning toward the phone-screen. The image of the metal head of the switchboard got was wiped off, replaced by Rex/GK-30. "Excuse my barging in on you, Bascom," the robot said. "But these two tykes are getting anxious for news." Behind the large got Bascom saw Dan and Molly standing. "Nothing new since last time we talked, kids," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Are they alive?" asked Dan. "There's no report of a crash, Dan," replied Bascom. "I've been urging a few of my contacts back in DC to find out what the Page 89 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html OCO knows about this." "You're sure it is the OCO?" "At least a contingent of that esteemed organization, "Aren't you doing anything else?" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Dan, I've got five of my best operatives on this. And I've put out the word to our informant network. Sooner or--" "But right now, you aren't even sure if my dad and Sid are still alive?" "I'm betting that--" "The Teklords are also involved in this frumus, kiddo," cut in Rex. "Here, take a gander at this gink." A vidclip of a dark, thickset man filled the screen. The man was walking, head down, across the lobby of a hotel. "This is Roberto Martinez," explained the robot. "I glommed this from a secsyst cam in the lobby of Hotel and." "And?" "Martinez is the bozo who came in, interrupted ne'er-do-well uncle while he was chinning with waltzed the guy out and possibly into oblivion." connected with one of the Mexican Tek cartels?" "Yep, the Navarro Cartel, biggest one in Borderland." Frowning, Bascom tapped the bell of his saxophone. "Usually they hire outside help for these simple chores," he said thoughtfully. "They must've been in a rush to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html stop--" "Important holocall coming in," blurted out one of the holograph stages.. "I'll get back to you, Dan. Don't worry." Bascom crossed to the platform and activated it. The life-size projection of a man in a yellow suit materialized. He was pudgy and he had no head. There was just a blurred ball of pale blue light resting on his shoulders. "I understand you're interested in the present whereabouts of Jake Cardigan and Sid Gomez, Bascom. True?" Making a slow half circuit of the stage, Bascom said, "You don't usually deal in this sort of information, Wordsworth." "I came across this gem of intelligence by chance," said the headless informant. "Being dedicated to the cause of justice, I decided to risk my anonymity by contacting you in person in this manner." "How much?" Page 90 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Naturally my first concern is the safety of your operatives and--" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Your price?" A coughing noise came out of the blur. "Five thousand dollars." "Three thousand tops." "I know where your ops are languishing, Bascom. "Forty-five hundred." "Thirty-five hundred." "Four thousand dollars or I depart." "Deal. Now tell me where--" "Jesus! Got to go. Stand by until later, Bascom." There was a faint popping sound and Wordsworth was gone. "Shit," observed Bascom. R6ENT HECTON'S OFFICE was small, crowded with too many metal chairs, data boxes neo wood packing crates and bundles of old fax memos His desk was wedged in a corner and there were two dozen small vidscreens in the walls to the left and right of it. "You're not paying attention, Cardigan," he complained from the metal chair that was jammed behind the narrow gunmetal desk. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "I'm still admiring the decor." Jake was straddling a chair, facing the OCO man. "This is a temp setup, purely functional." He gestured at a bank of viewscreens to his left. "What do you see there?" "Assorted views of what I assume is the jungle outside, shot with nitecams." Nodding slowly, Helton said, "What you don't see, however, is as much as a trace of your damned missing partner." "True," agreed Jake. "Notice Screen Seventeen." This showed a white metal lab table, bright lit from overhead, upon which sprawled a large robot dog. "Defunct dog," said Jake. "That's one of the two highly efficient robot tracking dogs that were sent to locate Gomez, incapacitate him and then signal our people," continued Helton. "They never fail." "Until tonight." "Both of these dogs were rendered inoperative by a highly sophisticated Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Page 91 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html sonic weapon." He put both elbows on the desk, leaning forward, eyeing Jake. "Where'd Gomez get such a weapon?" "The gift shop at the sky port Helton's frown deepened. "Do you bastards have allies on this island?" "Sure. We sent a whole troop of them here on the off chance we'd someday be high jacked He grinned. "C'mon, Helton, be rational. I have no idea what Gomez used on your mechanized mutts." "I want him here." He tapped the desktop with a blunt forefinger. "He has to be brought in--now." "So keep looking for him." The agent said, "No, you're going to help me round him up, Cardigan." "No, I'm not, nope." "My instructions are not to harm you, not seriously," he told Jake. "Still, we have some gadgets here that--" "How about a Devlin Gun?" asked Jake. "That might scare me into Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html cooperating." After exhaling slowly, then inhaling, Helton advised him, "You don't want to know anything about the Devlin Guns." Jake said, "Almita's working for Carlos Zabicas. He's got the guns and--" "Zabicas hasn't got them." "Oh, so? Then who did you guys arrange to--" "Right now all you have to worry about is helping me get Gomez herded in here." Helton stood. "We're going out into the jungle, you and I, Cardigan, and--" "And I'm what--bait?" "Yeah, exactly." Jake shook his head. "I decline." "Then I'll have to persuade you." Jake asked, "How high up in the OCO does this go? Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Who told you to waylay us but not knock us off?." Smiling, Helton answered, "Maybe nobody ordered me to spare your lives," he suggested. "Perhaps I'm simply conning you, Cardigan. It might be that your only real chance of surviving depends on your helping me lo cate Gomez. Page 92 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Otherwise--"
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