Tommy waited for the beep and then recorded his message. As he hung up he realized he was enjoying this. When he hung up twenty-three hours later, after listening to a series of rapid fire directions delivered in heavily accented English by an unidentified female, who'd been both rude and insulting on being asked to repeat herself because she was going so fast, he decided that perhaps this aspect of the undercover agent world wasn't the right part of an operation if he wanted intrigue and excitement. And since he hated field work, perhaps he was better off where he was.

He poked his head into Stephen's office. "Yo, boss, just heard back from our man in the Mediterranean."

Stephen looked at him. "Yo?"

"Yeah, you know, Yo."

"Clearly I don't know or I wouldn't be asking."

"Oh, well, it's like hi or hey and like that. It's to get your attention."

"Oh," Stephen said, like he wanted to say a lot more. "Alright Tommy, what can I do for you now that you have my attention?"

"Our man in the Med, I just heard back. Or at least," he amended, to be accurate, "I talked to someone calling on his behalf."

"Erm, last I checked we didn't have a man in the Med but I'll let that go for now. However I apologize. I should have warned you."

"Yeah, you should have," he agreed with some tartness. "She was rude and accused me of not paying attention. She implied I was incompetent, that I couldn't do my job." Just thinking about it made him indignant.

Stephen struggled to keep his face impassive and his lips straight. He cleared his throat to cover the laugh. "She obviously doesn't know you like I do. I assure you, Tommy, that I value, deeply, your outstanding abilities, including your capacity to get directions right the first time."

"I should hope so," Tommy muttered, somewhat mollified.

"Er, what was that you just said? I didn't quite catch it."

"I should hope so, that's what I said. But never mind that, just let me tell you what the deal is."

Suitably chastened and recalled to a sense of his duties Stephen composed his features into an expression of politely undivided attention and motioned for him to continue.

"The meeting's in ten days at the Cathedral of St. John in Valetta.  That's on Malta." Tommy offered the last with the air of a man informing the pantingly eager to be informed.

"I've been there."

"Oh, so you know." He was deflated but still game. "Well, you're to arrive the night before and check into the room that will be reserved for you at the Bel Sol in Buggiba. The next day you're to take the bus into Valletta and meet him near the Caravaggio of The Beheading of St. John the Baptist five minutes before the noon mass starts. He says you're to be sure you're not late, or you won't be able to get into the Cathedral--and he won't wait."

Stephen was nodding, already fitting the information into his own plans. "He wouldn't. If I can't be on time, clearly I don't really need to talk to him. Were there any other instructions?"

"Yeah, you should be holding a black rosary in your left hand with a Lourdes water medal on it."

Stephen raised his eyebrow slowly and deliberately. "Did he, now?"

Tommy retreated from his joke in some disorder. "No, but it would have been in keeping with all the rest of this nonsense."

Stephen wagged his finger at his much put upon aide. "Well, you know how us spies are. No consideration for the lurid imagination of the masses led astray through no fault of their own by pulp paper backs and the abomination of television."

Tommy hrmmped.

"Now, got your notebook my friend? Oh, yes, I see you do. Sorry for doubting your abilities. Here's what we're going to do, or rather you're going to do, since my doing comes later. Book Adam on a flight out to Malta as soon as you can get him one, Dulles I suspect it'll be, and book him into the Bel Sol on the all inclusive plan, checking out about three days after the meeting. Make sure he's got enough cash. Then, book me into Malta as early as possible the day before the meeting. Your best bet will be a flight to Europe the day before that with an overnight stay. I will need to see Adam before he leaves, so I think I'll see him off at the airport."

Tommy was writing furiously again. Sometimes he thought that was all he ever did in this job. "Anything else, Boss?"

"Not right now.  But I'm sure there will be more later."

So was Tommy.

Thirty minutes later Tommy was back in Stephen's office. "All set. Adam's packing. The plane goes out of Dulles at 3:35 pm and gets into the Valletta airport, allowing for the time difference, at 7:24 am their time. His reservation at the hotel is confirmed and you have," he paused to look at his watch, "five and a half hours until takeoff." Tommy looked up, pleased with himself and wrapped it up. "Adam will be at the front door by the time you get there, assuming you're leaving now. I made sure he has a passport and his credit card. Also I gave him a hard copy of his reservations"

"Tommy, you're a dream. Clearly I don't pay you enough." Stephen pushed his chair back and headed towards the door. "Be sure to clear my schedule for the rest of the day."

He had started to point out he didn't get paid at all when suspicion bloomed. "When," Tommy demanded, "will you be back?"

"Late, so don't wait up, honey. Kiss the kids good night for me. I'll try not to wake you when I come in."

Not at all fooled Tommy demanded, "Where do I tell people you are?"

Stephen winked at him. "Tell them I've run away from home and I'm never coming back." Then he blew him a kiss and was out the door, leaving Tommy fuming.

As promised Adam was at the front door, suitcase and carry on, presumably holding his art supplies, in hand. Stephen kept it to small talk as he pointed them towards Virginia. When they hit the interstate he got to the point.

"I assume you have enough cash?"

"Yeah, fortunately Tommy had some on hand."

"That's his job." Change it to traveler's checks as soon as you can. Cash is too noticeable. Use your own credit card for the hotel and I'll reimburse you. Don't rent a car, use public transportation."

"All right, but why?"  Adam was puzzled.

"Parking is a problem where you'll be and, even more so, where we're meeting my friend Laszlo. Also it's expensive and you aren't the type in this masquerade of ours to have money to waste." He paused to pass a truck on the curve and resumed as he slid back into the right hand lane, "At least not for the next couple of weeks. On the contrary, you are traveling on the budget plan. The hotel rate is all inclusive, so all your meals and within limits, anything you want from the bar come with the room. They'll explain all that when you check in."

Adam grinned. "Sounds good to me."

Stephen glanced at him. "I see. Well, I want you to blend in, to be just another tourist so it's up to you but I need you functioning at your best when we meet Laszlo so keep that in mind."

Not at all abashed Adam nodded.

"I'll be checking in the night before. You probably won't see much of me and if you do it goes without saying we have never so much as been supporting cast in our respective dreams."

"OK. Makes sense."

"So spend the time doing some tourist stuff, with a lot of sketching. The meeting's at the Cathedral of St John in Valletta. It used to be the priory church of the Order of the Knights of Malta, though you may be more familiar with them as the Knights Templar."

"The Maltese Falcon."

"Exactly.You should like the place. There's a Caravaggio there that's famous, plus a number of other things. Spend some time there, sketching, getting to know the area and doing whatever else you artist types do. Try to avoid Mata Hari, of course, but have a good time nonetheless."

Adam laughed. "Mata Hari, now her I was looking forward to."

"I guessed. And I can tell you she hasn't aged well."

"You know her, then?"

"Haven't you realized yet, my boy, that I know everyone, simply everyone?"

The dripping pomposity made Adam laugh again as Stephen returned to the point. "The day of the meeting you will be there early, say by nine o'clock and sketching. Even earlier some other folks will have arrived." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Adam. While Adam examined the photos he went on. "The top three are the folks who will be there and, unless something I don't expect happens, will do nothing else but blend in. The bottom photo is a shot of Laszlo from six years ago. It's the best I could do."

"I thought I recognized him."

"Remember the other faces, too. You can use telepathy with them if you need to but unless it's life or death as they say, don't."

Adam interrupted, surprised. "They're talented?"

"Yes and they think that's all we are as well, and not to any great degree at that. I want to keep it that way. Now, the other thing is, whatever they tell you to do, you do, just as if I were telling you. I don't expect trouble but I like to be prepared. They will also be at the Bel Sol and it's the kind of place where you get to know the other residents so you will be acquainted before this all happens. Any questions about any of that?"

"Nope, none that I can think of except, how do I reach you if I need to?"

"Use telepathy. But keep it real tight, real focused and short."

"Why?"

"Because for those who know what to look for the energy trail of any of the –pathic gifts is as good as a signature and it can, as you know, be traced."

"But Laszlo isn't talented, is he?"

"Now there's a very good question. And I think, for the sake of this exercise, we will behave as if he were the most talented man since God." Stephen glanced at his profile. "Adam, this sounds a lot more like James Bond than it will be, I know. Laszlo isn't hostile to us. But he has some very serious enemies who would be happy to use us, any way they can. That makes this potentially dangerous. In ordinary circumstances I'd just meet him and be done with it, but I can't so I am trying to ensure that, if a hundred to one shot occurs you emerge from this unscathed and with nothing more to show for it than a good time in a really great place, some sketches and maybe even a good tan. So until the morning of the meeting no contact if at all possible. And the morning of you will limit contact to sending a picture of Laszlo and other pertinent details, like someone is following him and has an AK 47 in his pocket."

"They don't use those any more. It's all automatic weapons or small hand guns now."

Stephen laughed. "Now how would you know that?"

"I get out."

"Touché."

"Anything else you wanna tell me, that I should know?"

"Which, that I want to tell you, or that you should know?"

Adam was startled. "They're different?"

"Think about it. Of course they are. Very different though there is potential for overlap."

"Then let's just keep it to, 'is there anything else?'"

"Yeah there's one more thing. Anything and I mean anything at all goes down, it starts to break bad, things get funky, whatever, unless you hear different from me or those folks, I want you out of there. Forget everything and head to the Refuge. In other words, Adam, get the hell out." Stephen's voice had gotten hard, implacable with a tone that Adam had never heard before. It was one that Liam, for instance, could've told him meant he expected to be obeyed in the matter, without question or hesitation to the letter. Stephen would realize later that that was where he'd made his big mistake. Adam wasn't Liam, he didn't know the voice. "Don't stop to worry about me, I can take care of myself, just like Laszlo and just like the other three."

Adam grinned and took his chance. "Yes, boss."

Stephen groaned.