Zero as I was of not getting there.

Winter pushed the door open and glanced in. "I'll be with you in a moment, Mr. Bayard," he said. "We've arrived on schedule."

I was nervous. The gun was gone. I told myself it was no worse than going to one of the ambassador's receptions. My best bet was to walk in as though I'd thought of it myself.

The two bouncers came in, followed by Winter. One of the two men pushed the door open, and stood at attention beside it. Beyond the opening I could see muted sunshine on a level paved surface, and a group of men in white uniforms, looking in our direction.

I stepped down through the door and looked around. We were in a large shed, looking something like a railroad station. A group of men in white uniforms were waiting.

One of them stepped forward. "By Jove, Winter," he said. "You've brought it off. Congratulations, old man." The others came up, gathered around Winter, asking questions, turning to stare at me. None of them said anything to me. To hell with them, I thought. I turned and started strolling toward the front of the shed. There was one door with a sentry box arrangement beside it. I gave the man on duty a glance and started past.

"You'd better memorize this face," I said coolly. "You'll be seeing a great deal of it from now on. I'm your new commander." I looked him up and down. "Your uniform is in need of attention." I turned and went on.

Winter appeared at that point, putting an end to what would have been a very neat escape. But where the hell would I have gone?

"Here, old man," he said. "Don't go wandering about. I'm to take you directly to Royal Intelligence, where you'll doubtless find out a bit more about the reasons for your, ah—" Winter cleared his throat, "visit."

"I thought it was Imperial Intelligence," I said. "And for the high level operation this is supposed to be, this is a remarkably modest reception. I thought there would be a band, or at least a couple of cops with handcuffs."

"Royal Swedish Intelligence," Winter explained briskly. "Sweden will bring tributary to the Emperor, of course. Imperial Intelligence chaps will be on hand. As for your reception, we don't believe in making much fuss, you know." Winter waved me into a boxy black staff car which waited at the curb. It swung out at once into light traffic which 

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