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don’t know what they want this time. But then again we never know, do we? But I don’t like the way this guy Francis is operating. At least Archer kept things discreet. This guy is doing everything out in the open. We need to get in and get out and be aware of everything when we leave.”
    “Gotcha,” Ronnie said. “I’m feeling it too. I’m starting to feel like there’s a crowd around me, watching me. Like I’m on TV or something.”
    Cassie nodded. “Okay. Like I said, we get in and get out.” She pushed through the door, walking at a fast clip. She found the room and knocked on the door. Luke Francis himself opened it almost immediately. He stepped aside; waving them in. Cassie went first, with Ronnie right behind her.
     
    *****
     
    Across the street, Andre Kohl waited inside a coffee shop. He was pleased, though puzzled, as to the nature of what Francis was doing. The meeting at the university, followed by another tonight, told him that this pair of college students held a special interest for Francis. It also cleared up the mystery of General Archer coming to New Orleans shortly before he died. What Kohl didn’t know was why this pair of kids was of such interest. As usual, there would be much thought required as to how to proceed from this point. Relations between intelligence services tended to be professional. Most of what went tended to be casual. Overt acts usually ended up with trouble for both parties, but when the stakes were high they did happen.
    In this case, the choice was clear. Kohl would lie back and hope to gather more information. Even the smallest acts could be telling. People tipped their hands in the simplest of ways. Patience was often a virtue in these situations. Kohl enjoyed America. Food was abundant, tasty, and cheap. The people were generally friendly, the accommodations were good, and there were freedoms here he could not enjoy at home. He was in no hurry to leave.
    He kept returning to the idea that there was more to this situation than he was seeing. Francis had left Washington hurriedly, his entire demeanor one of urgency. Intelligence operatives did not pick up and leave in that way unless something was in the wind. It bothered him that Francis was operating so openly. Good intelligence operatives didn’t parade around or meet key assets at crowded college campuses. Either this was nothing or Francis was far out of his league, not the man Archer was. Why did Francis have so much interest in a pair of college students? What did they have that a man like Francis would seek out? That, he thought as he sipped the good American coffee, he would have to find out, one way or another.
     
    *****
     
    Ronnie took the picture Francis held out to him, running his fingers across the face. A color photograph showed a man in military dress, short-cropped hair, blue eyes and a sharp chin. Across the bottom was a name: Bronislov, Alexei. The man was looking into the camera with an almost amused expression, unlike most military snapshots. The eyes gave something away, hinted at other things he could be doing besides getting his picture taken.
    “Alexei Bronislov,” Francis said. “One of our inside people in the Soviet Communications system. He’s been giving us good intelligence for three years. Now we can’t find him. I want you to locate him if he’s still alive. We need to know where he is.”
    Ronnie took the picture, leaned back on the small sofa and closed his eyes. Continuing to run his fingers across the face, he took a deep breath. For him, the viewing was a matter of relaxation. The room was silent. Cassie was watching closely. She had seen Ronnie do this of course, but it was always a matter of intense interest to her. Their experience was different. She usually needed isolation to get away successfully. Ronnie seemed to be able to do it in a room full of people, though his immersion was never as complete. She was there in person when she traveled. Ronnie described his