“You’re two days from sailing, so don’t, all right? You gotta get something, pay cash or charge it.”

“I will.”

“Good deal. Now—you’ve taken care of everything you need to do before you leave?”

“Yeah. I’ve said my good-byes,” Jerry said. The one with Anna had been lusty and tearful, the one with his father more along the lines of Well, I’ll see you whenever you get back. He went on, “I’ve graded all my finals, too, and turned in the sheets to my prof and my department. So I’m good to go.”

“Fine.” Vic nodded. “Gotta make sure, you know.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh! One other thing. Before you go, leave your house key with somebody. Just leave your car key—they’ll start it up every so often while you’re away so it’ll run when you get back.”

“Cool!” Jerry’d been worrying about that.

Before he could say anything else, the fellow searching through the stuff in his suitcase went “Ha!” and held up a handkerchief with a red, machine-embroidered J on it. By the way he displayed it, he might have found Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter.

“I forgot all about that,” Jerry said, embarrassed. “My aunt gave me some of those when I turned twenty-one.”

“That’s why we check you out.” The CIA man threw the offending square of linen into a large metal trash can. Jerry wondered how many other people’s clothes and key rings and such already lay in there.

Nothing else in the case seemed to be against the rules. Jerry closed it up. The hired muscle at the door politely opened it for him. He walked out into the courtyard and headed for the street.

An older man lugging a battered suitcase of his own paused inside the entranceway, no doubt also looking for apartment 127. Jerry pointed back the way he’d come. “It’s over there.”

“Thanks,” the man said, and then, “Hi, Jerry.”

“Oh! Steve! Hi!” Jerry hurried forward and shook hands. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be going along on this … whatever it is.”

“Whatever it is, is right.” By the way Steve glanced at the apartments surrounding the courtyard, he figured they were full of KGB agents waiting for him to tell them everything they needed to know. The scary thing was, he might have been right. He went on, “But yeah, I’m coming. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Okay. Cool, even.” Jerry was glad he’d have at least one slightly familiar face on the Glomar Explorer. Being more social caterpillar than social butterfly, he didn’t make friends easily, or sometimes at all. He wanted to ask Steve about a million questions. The man from RAND’s worried expression warned him that wouldn’t be a good idea, though. He just said, “I’ll see you there, then,” and went on his way.