Operation Haystack

e never met him." He looked to the southwest where a flitter was growing larger as it approached. "Who's my cover contact?" "That mini-transceiver we planted in your neck for the Gienah job," said Stetson. "It's still there and functioning. Anything happens around you, we hear it." [Illustration] Orne touched the subvocal stud at his neck, moved his speaking muscles without opening his mouth. A surf-hissing voice filled the matching transceiver in Stetson's neck: "You pay attention while I'm making a play for this Diana Bullone, you hear? Then you'll know how an expert works." "Don't get so interested in your work that you forget why you're out there," growled Stetson. * * * * * Mrs. Bullone was a fat little mouse of a woman. She stood almost in the center of the guest room of her home, hands clasped across the paunch of a long, dull silver gown. She had demure gray eyes, grandmotherly gray hair combed straight back in a jeweled net--and that shocking