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«Good afternoon,» said the man as he came into view. He was shorter than Tanner by several inches, probably five ten or eleven, but very broad in the shoulders. His blond hair was cut short, his eyes set far apart beneath bushy light-brown eyebrows. He was, perhaps, Tanner’s age, but without question a more physical man. Even his stance had a potential spring to it, thought Tanner.

«Mr. Fassett?»

«That’s right. Won’t you come in?» Fassett, instead of retreating into Cranston’s office, crossed in front of Tanner to the door and locked it. «We’d rather not have any interruptions.»

«Why not?» asked Tanner, startled.

Laurence Fassett looked about the room. «Yes. Yes. I see what you mean. Good point. Come in, please.» Fassett walked in front of Tanner into Cranston’s office. The shades of the two windows overlooking the street were pulled all the way down; Cranston’s desk was as bare as his secretary’s, except for two ashtrays and one other item. In the center of the cleared surface was a small Wollensak tape recorder with two cords—one in front of Cranston’s chair, the other by the chair in front of Cranston’s desk.

«Is that a tape recorder?» asked the news director, following Fassett into the office.

«Yes, it is. Won’t you sit down, please?»

John Tanner remained standing. When he spoke it was with quiet anger. «No, I will not sit down. I don’t like any of this. Your methods are very unclear, or maybe too clear. If you intend putting anything I say down on tape, you know perfectly well I won’t allow it without the presence of a network attorney.»

Fassett stood behind Cranston’s desk. «This is not F.C.C. business. When I explain, you’ll understand my … methods.»

«You’d better explain quickly, because I’m about to leave. I was called by the F.C.C. to deliver the public service hours projected by Standard Mutual—which I have in my briefcase—and to sign two copies of our filing which your office omitted sending. You made it clear that you would be with Cranston when I arrived. Instead, I find an office which obviously is not in use… I’d say you’d better have a good explanation or you’ll be hearing from our attorneys within an hour. And if this is any kind of reprisal against Standard Mutual’s news division, I’ll blast you from coast to coast.»

«I’m sorry… These things are never easy.»

«They shouldn’t be!»

«Now hold it. Cranston’s on vacation. We used his name because you’ve dealt with him before.»

«You’re telling me you intentionally lied?»

«Yes. The key, Mr. Tanner, is in the phrase you employed just now … ‘I was called by the F.C.C.,’ I believe you said. May I present my credentials?» Laurence Fassett reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small black plastic case. He held it across the desk.

Tanner opened it.

The top card identified Laurence C. Fassett as an employee of the Central Intelligence Agency.

The other card was Fassett’s priority permit to enter the McLean complex at any hour of day or night.

«What’s this all about? Why am I here?» Tanner handed back Fassett’s identification.

«That’s the reason for the tape recorder. Let me show you. Before I explain our business I have to ask you a number of questions. There are two switches which can shut off the machine. One here by me, the other there by you. If at any time I ask you a question you do not care to answer, all you have to do is push the OFF switch and the machine stops. On the other hand—and, again, for your protection—if I feel you are including private information which is no concern of ours, I shall stop the machine.» Fassett started up the recorder with his switch and then reached across the desk for the cord in front of Tanner’s chair and stopped it. «See? Quite simple. I’ve been through hundreds of these interviews. You’ve got nothing to worry about.»

«This sounds like a pretrial examination without benefit of counsel or mandate of subpoena! What’s the point? If you think you’re going to intimidate me, you’re crazy!»

«The point is one of completely positive identification… And you’re absolutely right. If it was our intention to intimidate anyone, we picked about as vulnerable a subject as J. Edgar Hoover. And even he doesn’t have control of a network news program.»

Tanner looked at the C.I.A. man standing politely behind Cranston’s desk. Fassett had a point. The C.I.A. wouldn’t allow itself to use so blatant a tactic on someone in his position.

«What do you mean, ‘completely positive identification’? You know who I am.»

«It should give you some idea of the magnitude of the information I’m empowered to deliver. Just extraordinary precaution in line with the importance of the data… Did you know that in the Second World War an actor—a corporal in the British army, to be exact—impersonated Field Marshall Montgomery at high-level conferences in Africa and even some of Montgomery’s Sandhurst classmates didn’t catch on?»

The news director picked up the cord and pushed the ON and OFF switches. The machine started and stopped. John Tanner’s curiosity—mingled with fear—was growing. He sat down. «Go ahead. Just remember, I’ll shut off the tape and leave any time I want to.»

«I understand. That’s your privilege—up to a point.»

«What do you mean by that? No qualifications, please.»

«Trust me. You’ll understand.» Fassett’s reassuring look served its purpose.

«Go ahead,» said Tanner. The C.I.A. man picked up a manila folder and opened it. He then started the machine.

«Your full name is John Raymond Tanner?»

«Incorrect. My legal name is John Tanner. The Raymond was a baptismal name and is not registered on my birth certificate.»

Fassett smiled from across the desk. «Very good.»

«Thank you.»

«You currently reside at 22 Orchard Drive, Saddle Valley, New Jersey?»

«I do.»

«You were born on May 21, 1924, in Springfield, Illinois, to Lucas and Margaret Tanner?»

«Yes.»

«Your family moved to San Mateo, California, when you were seven years old?»

«Yes.»

«For what purpose?»

«My father’s firm transferred him to Northern California. He was a personnel executive for a department-store chain. The Bryant Stores.»

«Comfortable circumstances?»

«Reasonably so.»

«You were educated in the San Mateo public school system?»

«No. I went through the second year of San Mateo High and transferred to a private school for the final two years of secondary school. Winston Preparatory.»

«Upon graduation you enrolled at Stanford University?»

«Yes.»

«Were you a member of any fraternities or clubs?»

«Yes, Alpha Kappa fraternity. The Trylon News Society, several others I can’t recall… Photography club, I think, but I didn’t stay. I worked on the campus magazine, but quit.»

«Any reason?»

Tanner looked at the C.I.A. man. «Yes. I strenuously objected to the Nisei situation. The prison camps. The magazine supported them. My objection still stands.»

Fassett smiled again. «Your education was interrupted?»

«Most educations were. I enlisted in the Army at the end of my sophomore year.»

«Where were you trained?»

«Fort Benning, Georgia. Infantry.»

«Third Army? Fourteenth Division?»

«Yes.»

«You saw service in the European theatre of operations?»

«Yes.»

«Your highest rank was First Lieutenant?»

«Yes.»

«O.C.S. training at Fort Benning?»

«No. I received a Field Commission in France.»