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Hanlon felt sure it was the same man he had guarded that day. Oh, oh, was that "failure" he had also read in Panek's mind that unsuccessful attempt he, Hanlon, had thwarted? Was Panek and through him this as-yet-unmet leader behind that attempt on Abrams' life? These were questions he could not answer yet not enough data. But he would have to find the answers sometime.
I'll be good while we talk." Hanlon rose, but stood warily as the other slowly climbed to his feet. But he wasn't sharp enough Panek's hand flashed out even before he seemed to be standing erect, and slickly grabbed the wallet from the inside pocket of Hanlon's jacket. But the SS man, seeing what the other was after, stood there without making any resistance.
SS man George Hanlon went slowly back to his room where he could think seriously without the outside abstractions he would be sure to encounter in any of the public rooms. He had made a good bid, he thought, for contact with what he felt sure must be the group he wanted to get in with. Hanlon felt Panek's statement that he, personally, was not in on it, was just so much hog-wash.
And once in Panek's gang, he might find them. And even if this particular gang was not the one doing the plotting in which the Corps was so interested, Hanlon felt that getting into even one of the organized gangs on Simonides would be a step in the right direction. But he would have to watch his step. Those fellows would be about as safe to play with as a pitful of cobras.
"He didn't have brains enough to invent an excuse." "I wonder, then, what Bohr had in mind to bring such a man here like that?" Hawarden frowned. "Maybe a trick to help throw His Majesty off guard," Newton suggested. "Or else just a sop to Panek's vanity, to tie him closer to Bohr," Hanlon said. "A thing like that would have tickled Panek." "We'll have him rounded up, then."
These men were not here just because they were glad to see him, of that he was sure. He probed their minds and even before Panek spoke, he knew. "The boss sent us to bring you to see him first thing, the boss did," Panek's voice was gruff, yet somewhat friendly. "That's mighty nice of him," Hanlon tried not to let his feelings show, but to take this as a natural courtesy.
That last crack about "you'd better pray that 'he' likes you," was almost sure proof. But what did it mean? Who was this "he," and why had Hanlon better pray "he" liked him? Probably the leader ... and if so, undoubtedly a dangerous man to play around with. Hanlon remembered the fear of his boss he'd read in Panek's mind. Also, what about Abrams?
He sent all the remaining parts of his mind into the last of the pigeons. One of the first birds he had already sent into the ventilator so he could look through it into the room below. He got it there just in time to hear the Leader's gasp of dismay as he saw Hanlon's body slump still further in apparent lifelessness. "Is he dead, Boss, is he?" he heard Panek's anxious cry.
I was good and sick of 'em, and about ready to quit when they threw me out on that lie about cheating ... say, I knew more'n their knuckle-headed instructors, so why'd I need to cheat?" "Easy, Pal, take it easy." "They just want to use their high and mighty authority," Hanlon ignored Panek's shushing. "They just like to push people around 'cause they got on a pretty uniform."
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