"What steps are we taking to locate him?"

"Very low-profile at present, sir," said Moustache. "Lieutenant Rembrandt was informed as soon as we learned of the incident. She ordered all personnel to report any sighting of either Sushi or the other man-so far no word. We're assuming that the other man could have taken control of Sushi's communicator, so we don't want to make a general broadcast that he might intercept."

"Is there any reason to believe that's the case?" asked Phule.

"None so far," said Moustache. "But you'd best talk to Rembrandt and Mother-they've been watching the situation develop ever since Sushi left the casino floor, and may know a fair amount they haven't passed on-the enemy may have ears."

"Yes, of course," said Phule. "Carry on, then, Sergeant-it looks as if you've done everything you could." He turned and headed for the comm center. If anyone knew anything more than Moustache, it would be Mother.

Neither he nor Moustache noticed the small figure in black that watched them from behind a large, potted Durdanian fern, then swiftly moved to follow Phule toward the elevator bank.

"These will be your quarters, for the time being," said Brandy, opening the door to a suite on the third floor of the hotel. One of Phule's innovations had been abandonment of the normal Legion barracks system. Almost immediately upon taking over the Omega Mob, he had moved the troops out of their quarters, lock, stock, and barrel, and checked them into the best hotel in town while the quarters were rebuilt to his specifications-which were, if anything, even more comfortable than the hotel. He hadn't seen any reason to change that policy here on Lorelei. Except for a few individuals engaged in undercover work outside the hotel, everyone in the company was in the best quarters the Fat Chance had to offer.