few feet to his right, a little above his head. He would have to bide his time until he was alone - all day, if necessary.

His attention was arrested by Rebecca exclaiming, “Oh, Baloo!” From the bottom desk drawer, she removed the half-eaten remains of a sandwich. The bread was green and fuzzy, the lettuce was brown, and the ham was speckled with black mold. Holding the rancid sandwich at arm’s length, she rushed to the kitchen, muttering, “That bear has to learn that my desk is not a refrigerator! We’re going to have a long talk when he gets home!”

It was the chance Leo Stedman had been waiting for. He sprang to the safe and fiddled with the knob, ear to the door. The first number clicked. The second. He rotated the knob slowly to the left, listening intently.

“Hello,” said a little voice.

Stedman spun around. Reflexively, his right hand flew inside his suit jacket to grasp his handgun. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to fight or flee from his adversary. His eyes panned around the room, but he saw no one.

“Hi,” said the little voice again.

He looked down. His adversary turned out to be a little yellow bearess carrying a doll. He relaxed, but not much. Donning a facade of sweetness and decency as another would don a suit of clothes, he affixed a convincing charming smile on his handsome face. “Hello, little girl,” he crooned in a cultured voice that made most women forget their names.

However, neither the voice nor the smile worked their magic on this little girl.

“Are you one of my mommy’s customers?” Molly asked, wondering why he had been messing with the safe.

The agent nodded, still smiling. He had no problem staring down other spies, but, for some unexplained reason, he quailed under the candid innocence of this child’s brown eyes. Of course, with all of his expensive, extensive training, his expression didn’t betray it.

“What do you make?”

Leo Stedman blurted out the first thing he saw. “Paperclips.”

“Paperclips? That sounds neat.” Molly climbed into her mother’s chair, then onto the desktop. She picked up a paperclip. Trying to trip this so-called customer up, she said, “I got a question. How do you fold ‘em like this?”

“We have machines to do that,” he replied, warily watching the kitchen door in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t afford to be caught. His reputation would be wasted, and after Shere Khan dealt with him, his entire body would be wasted. Quickly, he thought up a scheme to escape from the building. He would get the stone later. “Where’s your bathroom, little girl?”

“Upstairs. I’ll show you.” As they both ascended the stairs, Molly prattled on. “It’s the first room. The one next to it is Baloo and Kit’s bedroom.”

“That’s nice.”

“They’ll fly your...what did you say you made again?” Molly fixed her shrewd, suspicious gaze on him.

Almost imperceptibly, he fiddled with the handle of the switchblade in his pocket, but he said confidently, “Paperclips.”

Molly was disappointed. He really was a customer. There went her plan to lock him in the bathroom. “Yeah, they’ll fly your paperclips wherever you want.”

Maintaining his fake smile despite a deep desire to dispose of the chattering child who had put a wrench in his pitifully simple mission, he said coolly, “That’s good.”

“Baloo’s the best pilot in the world,” Molly stated proudly. “Did you know he’s gonna be my daddy?”

“Sounds cozy.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming, “Go away!” and jammed his hands in his pants pockets to keep from pushing her over the banister.

“And Kit’s gonna be my brother.”

“That’s nice.” Averting his face from the girl, he rolled his eyes. Family, schmamily, he thought irately.

“Yeah, Kit is nice. He likes to play Danger Woman with me.”

“Danger Woman?” Stedman echoed with a blank stare.

“You don’t know who Danger Woman is? She’s only the fastest, strongest, bestest superhero in the entire universe! I’ll show you what she wears.” Molly sped off to get her Danger Woman costume.

Leo Stedman shut the bathroom door with a sigh of relief. I thought I’d never get away from that brat.He wrenched open the window and looked down. It was a straight shot to the paving stones below. That didn’t faze him. It would be a walk in the park compared to scaling Mt. Neverrest single-handedly without ropes in a blizzard. He swung one leg over the sill, then the other. He lowered himself, finding handholds and toeholds in the crevices between boards. Halfway down the ‘lighthouse’, he stopped. Two big burly goon-types accompanied by a short alligator were directly beneath him; he recognized them as the people he had trailed the day before.

Hearing a high-pitched beeping, the agent looked at the ring on his left pinky. The large, square ruby was flashing. Peeking over his shoulder at the trio, he thought irately, What a horrible time for a phone call from the big boss!

Rhino Goon peered into the elm tree as they skirted the building. “Weird birds dey got here.”

“Yeah, weird,” agreed Ape Goon; he didn’t have a clue what his counterpart was talking about.

“Will you two weirdos stop yappin’ about da birds?” Trader Moe peeked into the office window. Rebecca was seated behind her desk and the jewelry box was right in front of her. “Whattaya know? Dere’s da box. For once you twos did somethin’ right.”

At the rare praise from their boss, Ape Goon chuckled sheepishly while Rhino Goon, blushing, said, “Gee, dat’s real nice of ya, boss.”

“Real nice,” Ape Goon parroted, grinning.

“Enough with da nice!" Trader Moe whispered loudly, 'wiping' the stupid grins from the goons' faces with his floppy, brown hat. "We ain’t here fer nice! We’re here fer da stone! Break down da door.”

The goons broke down the door - literally. One punch from both of the goons' beefy fists and the bottom hinge busted, leaving the door to swing wildly inward at an odd angle. Startled at the loud cracking noise, Rebecca quickly looked up from her work.

“Hand over da box, lady,” Trader Moe snarled with a sneer.

Rebecca grabbed the jewelry box and hugged it to her chest. She backed towards the kitchen door. “Give me one good reason!”

“I’ll give ya’s two good reasons.” With a snap of his fingers, two semi-automatic rifles were pointed directly at her courtesy of the goons.

She gulped as she held out the box with shaking hands.

Trader Moe snatched it up. “Tie her up, boys.”

Rebecca’s hands and heels were swiftly bound together. She was set roughly on the floor in front of her desk.

Hearing the ruckus, Molly, clad as Danger Woman in her red blanket cape and colander hat, shouted as she clattered down the stairs, “Leave my mommy alone or else!”

Trader Moe laughed scornfully. “Or else what, pipsqueak?”

“This!” Molly kicked the alligator’s shins, causing him to drop the box.

He hopped around the room, yelping in pain. “Grab her!”

Molly scooped up the box. Holding it under her arm like a football, she ran for the door; but was stopped when Ape Goon picked her up by the scruff of the neck; she kicked her legs in an attempt to escape from her captor.

Rhino Goon wrenched the box away from her vise-like grip. “Strong kid, but not strong enough.” Flicking her colander hat from her head, he laughed in her face.

Scowling, Molly bit Rhino Goon’s nose.

“Ouch!”

Ape Goon wrapped the red blanket securely around Molly’s wriggling form and stuck the hem of it in her mouth.

“Ah, da sounds of silence,” Trader Moe chuckled evilly. “Load ‘em in da car, boys. We’re takin’ dese hostages for a ride.”

Rebecca and Molly exchanged frightened glances.

Outside

Leo Stedman, who had been casing Higher for Hire from the luxurious accommodations of the interior of the trash can, witnessed the mass exodus of two goons carrying two bearesses. Behind them was a short alligator, barking out orders and toting a box. It was the moment he had been waiting for - again. He could almost hear the well-deserved praise from Shere Khan for the successful completion of another mission, not to mention the pile of cash that he would receive. But first he had to return a phone call.

On his ring, he pushed the tiny gold star inset in the center of the large, square ruby. A small antenna unfurled from the ruby. Quick beeping indicated that the number was being dialed.

Without a preliminary greeting, Shere Khan asked languidly, “Do you have it?”

“Not yet, Mr. Khan, but it is within reach.”

“Good. Call me when you get it.”

“Yes, sir.” Stedman once again pushed the gold star, causing the antenna to retract.

However, before he could climb out of the trash can, the lid opened and an extremely oily oil filter dropped on top of him.

“Oh, my hair!” wailed Stedman very unprofessionally.

Hearing the noise, Wildcat peeked into the trash can and saw the oil-covered spy. “Sorry. Didn’t know that this was your trash can.” He put the lid down and walked off.

Grumbling, Leo Stedman emerged from the trash, trying to brush sludge off of his expensive suit. He only managed to smear it around worse. Streaks of oil streamed down his hair and over his face. Walking into the office through the sagging door, he faced a dilemma - wash his hair or get the stone. There was no question in his mind. The stone wasn’t going anywhere. He ran upstairs to the bathroom to wash up.

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