(2) Music for the Hard of Hearing

Three men sat at a corner table in a private dining room at the Plainsmen Restaurant in Laramie, Wyoming.

They did not appear to go together, as each had a look distinct from the others. Claus affected the look of a rugged outdoorsman, in khakis and military field jacket.

Seated to his left was a college professor who moonlighted as a Red Rum recruiter and sometime negotiator, Fredrico Rolgo, dressed in tweeds, who had horn rim glasses and the features of a bald vulture.

Across from Claus was the master assassin, Sanguineus, who on this occasion wore, with his dark sportscoat and grey dress shirt and tie, a pair of faded blue jeans and brown leather hiking boots.

Curiously, he was the oldest man at the table by a good ten years, yet both the Prime Director and the professor looked older than he. No doubt this was due to genetics, for Sanguineus was not one to bother with diet and exercise regimens. He ate and drank in moderation, and was fit from the physical demands of his profession, but took no other pains to keep in good shape. He was considered handsome by the women who he permitted to enter his life, and who he encouraged, in various subtle ways, to depart soon after, physically but not emotionally gratified by their encounter with him.

His cover was that of a sales rep for a front called Universal Tools, and in some cases a union organizer for the Cement Mixers Guild, another of the organization's fronts. Nowhere was Red Rum to be found except in the minds of its members and its clients.

The three were having an early dinner.

"The difficulty," Rolgo was saying, choosing his words carefully, "is that my negotiations with the Firm's section chief puts us in a delicate position regarding the Knoughtly contract. The mastermind worked directly under the black ops supervisor, and this is known by the section chief. If we go through with the hit, it may jeopardize our chances of getting the Firm's contract for the torture deaths of Almalayikat Sirriat Mmin Alssama members, 'Secret Angels of Heaven,' or ASMA, if you prefer."

"Much prefer," said Claus, looking across at Sanguineus. "A budding terrorist group organizing in Austria, of all places."

Sanguineus smiled. "They think they're under the radar of the Firm?"

"Yes, and they certainly were, until the Mossad sniffed them out. They dropped it in the Firm's lap, and they in turn are waving it under our noses. What's odd is that the mastermind will be in Vienna next week for a concert. In fact, he'll be conducting the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. He's an amatuer maestro."

"And superb," said Rolgo. "He was invited to conduct an evening's performance after he made a generous donation to a music school patronized by the Chancellor. Anyway, doing away with the 'maestro' could end any hope of our getting the ASMA contract."

Claus waved his fork. "Orel Knoughtly is paying us ten times more than what the CIA has offered. If the hit disqualifies us, we'll survive."

Rolgo shrugged, patting the armrests of his chair. He winked at Sanguineus and said, "We have an operative in Austria who had a short Hollywood career. Made two movies before she was blackballed for her political views. A beauty. Very fit. Excellent target shooter with the bow and firearms. She has aspirations of being a cat burgler. A jewel thief. Rates very high on Stealth and Entry. Monica Paladin. I think you'll like her."

Sanguineus made no comment on that. He began to roll a smoke. "I need confirmation of how exactly Knoughtly wants the mastermind killed," he said to Claus. "This person is to die in a way similar to the deaths in the Twin Towers, is that true?"

Claus nodded. "The deaths were from jumping. There were no planes crashing into the towers, just demolition explosives and thermite bombs. Knoughtly wants the mastermind to fall from a great height and to be sliced in two by an object near the ground, which is how Knoughtly's wife died on 9-11. According to Bingham's report of his negotiations with Knoughtly, he wants the mastermind to suffer agonies of fear and stress before the fall, what we suppose Mrs Knoughtly suffered before she jumped off the eighty-fifth floor. There's a video clip of her death, by the way. I'll have it sent to you."

Sanguineus flicked a lighter and blew smoke through his nostrils.

"The mastermind's fall will have to be a controlled descent," he mused, "if he is to make contact with a cutting device. Am I correct in assuming that this CEO's high rise office building will not be suitable for the hit?"

"The mastermind will have to be lured someplace that fits your criteria," Claus said. "Possibly a building in Vienna. A high rise hotel, should that happen to be where he stays during his Austrian holiday. Miss Paladin might come in handy in luring him to such a place, if necessary."

Claus took an envelope from his jacket and tossed it down on the table by Sanguineus' ashtray. "The particulars," he said, "which only you, the assassin, are to know. Share them with Monica Paladin at your discretion. And one more thing," he added, pushing back his chair and getting up with the relief of a man who needs to stretch his joints. "It might be that the mastermind is aware of the contract on him. If so, then someone at ICS, with whom Knoughtly consulted, has leaked the proposal."

Rolgo and Sanguineus exchanged glances. 

"Leaked to whom?" asked Rolgo.

Claus walked over to the window and parted the gingham curtains.

The setting sun was harsh, recriminatory, on his thoughtful expression. "To someone whose identity, and affiliations, remain unknown at the present time. But we do know that whosoever he is, he recruited my masseuse. Their emails that we intercepted were heavily, but not hopelessly, encrypted. We got enough info out of their correspondence to determine that the woman had received half her promised fee for killing me."

He turned his back to the window, his squarish face set like that of a bulldog's. "I do like to think she bought herself a new pair of shoes and some earrings before I put a slug between her eyes."