〃I wondered when he'd get around to you civilians。〃 Steiger took another bite from the banana。 〃Pitt is heading up the Stanton probe。〃
〃The Stanton probe？ I never heard of it。〃
〃I'm not surprised。 They're not advertising。 Some do…good senator got it in his head that stockpiles of nerve…gas weapons are hidden under the Army's carpet。 So he launched a probe to find them。〃 Steiger wolfed down the last of the banana and tossed the peel in one of General Grosfield's desk drawers。 〃Pitt and his investigators didn't turn up so much as a pellet。 Now he's after you surplus boys。〃
〃What do you suggest？〃
〃What I suggest；〃 Steiger blurted； 〃is that you give the bastard what he wants。 If you have any gas canisters stashed in your warehouses； give them to him and save yourself a carload of grief。 The Stanton mittee is not out to prosecute anybody。 They only want to make damned sure some Third World dictator doesn't lay his hands on the wrong kind of weapons。〃
〃Thanks for the advice； General；〃 Mapes said。 Then； 〃Mayonnaise； you say？ I prefer peanut butter with onions； myself。〃
〃To each his own； Mr。 Mapes。 Good…bye。〃
Steiger hung up the phone and let out a deep； satisfied sigh。 Then he wiped the receiver with his handkerchief and exited into the hall。 He was just in the act of closing the door to the general's office when a captain in Army green walked around a corner。 The captain's eyes grew mildly suspicious at the sight of Steiger。
〃Excuse me； Colonel； but if you were looking for General Grosfield； he's out to lunch。〃
Steiger straightened and offered the captain his best 〃I outrank you〃 stare and said； 〃I don't know the general。 This jungle of concrete threw my sense of direction out of balance。 I'm looking for the Army Accident and Safety Department。 Got lost and poked my head in this office to ask directions。〃
The captain seemed noticeably relieved at avoiding an embarrassing situation。 〃Oh hell； I get lost ten times a day myself。 You'll find Accident and Safety one floor down。 Just take the elevator around the next corner to your right。〃
〃Thank you； Captain。〃
〃My pleasure； sir。〃
In the elevator Steiger smiled devilishly to himself as he wondered what General Grosfield would think when he found the banana peel in his desk。
Unlike most security guards who wear ill…fitting uniforms with waist belts sagged by heavy revolvers； Mapes's people looked more like fashionably attired bat troops as imagined by the editors of Gentle…men's Quarterly magazine。 Two of them stood smartly at the gate to the Phalanx warehouse grounds in neatly tailored field fatigues with the latest in assault rifles slung over their shoulders。
Mapes slowed his Rolls…Royce convertible and lifted both hands from the steering wheel in an apparent greeting。 The guard nodded and waved to his partner； who pulled open the gate from the inside。
〃I assume that was a signal of some kind；〃 said Pitt。
〃Pardon？〃
〃The hands…in…the…air routine。〃
〃Ah yes；〃 Mapes said。 〃If you had been holding a concealed gun on me； my hands would have remained on the wheel。 A normal gesture。 Then； as we were waved through and your attention was lulled by the guard's opening the gate； his teammate would have discreetly stepped behind the car and blown your head off。〃
〃I'm glad you remembered to raise your hands。〃
〃You're most observant； Mr。 Pitt；〃 said Mapes。 〃However； you force me to issue a new signal to the gate guards。〃
〃I'm crushed you don't trust me to keep your secret。〃
Mapes did not reply to Pitt's sarcasm。 He kept his eyes on a narrow asphalt road that passed between semingly endless rows of Quonset huts。 After about a mile they came to an open field crammed with heavily armored tanks in various states of rust and disrepair。 A small army of mechanics was busily crawling over ten of the massive vehicles that had been parked in formation beside the road。
〃How many acres do you have？〃 Pitt asked。
〃Five thousand；〃 Mapes replied。 〃You're looking at the world's sixth…largest army in terms of equipment。 Phalanx Arms also ranks seventh as an air force。〃
Mapes turned the car onto a dirt road that paralleled several bunkers set into a hillside； and stopped in front of one marked ARSENAL 6。 He slid from behind the wheel and pulled a single key from his pocket； insert…ed it in a large brass lock； and pulled the catch free。 Then he swung open a pair of steel doors and flipped on the light switch。
Inside the cavelike bunker； thousands of ammunition cases and crates containing a vast variety of shell sizes lay stacked in a tunnel that seemed to stretch into infinity。 Pitt had never seen so much potential destruction heaped in one place。
Mapes motioned toward a golf cart。 〃No need to raise blisters walk…ing。 This storage area runs underground for nearly two miles。〃
The arsenal was cold and the hum from the electric cart seemed to hang in the damp air。 Mapes turned into a side tunnel and slowed down。 He held a map up to the light and studied it。 〃Beginning here and ending about a hundred yards down is the last store of sixteen…inch naval shells in the world。 They're obsolete because only battleships can use them； and there is not a single operational battleship left。 The gas shells I bought from Raferty should be stacked in an area near the middle。〃
〃I see no sign of their canisters；〃 said Pitt。
Mapes shrugged。 〃Business is business。 Stainless…steel canisters are worth money。 I sold them to a chemical pany。〃
〃Your supply seems endless。 It might take hours to dig them out。〃
〃No；〃 replied Mapes。 〃The gas shells were assigned to Lot Six。〃 He stepped from the cart and walked amid the sea of projectiles for about fifty paces and then pointed。 〃Yes； here they are。〃 He carefully stepped through a narrow access and stopped。
Pitt remained in the main aisle； but even under the dull glow of the overhead lights he could detect a blank expression on Mapes's face。
〃Problem？〃
Mapes paused； shaking his head。 〃I don't understand it。 I find only four。 There should be eight。〃
Pitt stiffened。 〃They must be around somewhere。〃
〃You start looking from the other end； beginning at Lot Thirty；〃 Mapes ordered。 〃I'll go back to Lot One and begin there。〃
After forty minutes they met in the middle。 Mapes's eyes reflected a bewildered look。 He held out his hands in a helpless gesture。
〃Nothing。〃
〃Dammit； Mapes！〃 Pitt shouted； his voice echoing off the concrete walls。 〃You must have sold them！〃
〃No！〃 he protested。 〃They were a bad buy。 I miscalculated。 Every government I pitched was afraid to be the first to use gas since Vietnam。〃
〃Okay； four down； four to go；〃 Pitt said； pulling his emotions back under control。 〃Where do we go from here？〃
Mapes seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment。 〃The inven…tory 。。。 we'll check inventory records against sales。〃
Mapes used a call phone at the tunnel entrance to alert his office。 When he and Pitt got back； the Phalanx Arms accountant had laid out the records on his desk。 Mapes flipped through the ledgered pages swiftly。 It took him less than ten minutes to find the answer。
〃I was wrong；〃 he said quietly。
Pitt remained silent； waiting； his hands clasped。
〃The missing gas shells were sold。〃
Pitt was still silent； but there was murder in his eyes。
〃A mistake；〃 Mapes said thinly。 〃The arsenal crew took the shells from the wrong lot number。 The original shipping order called for the removal of forty pieces of heavy naval ordnance from Lot Sixteen。 I can only assume that the first digit； the one； did not emerge on the shipping crew's carbon copy； and they simply read it as Lot Six。〃
〃I think it appropriate to say； Mapes； that you run a sloppy ship。〃 Pitt's fingers bit into the flesh of his hands。 〃What name is on the purchase order？〃
〃I'm afraid there were three orders filled during the same month。〃
God； Pitt thought； why is it nothing ever es easy？ 〃I'll take a list of the buyers。〃
〃I hope you appreciate my position；〃 said Mapes。 The clipped busi…ness tone was back。 〃If my customers got wind of the fact I disclosed their arms sales 。。。 I think you understand why this matter must remain confidential。〃
〃Frankly； Mapes； I'd like to stuff you in one of your own cannon and pull the lanyard。 Now give me that list before I yank the Attorney General and Congress down around your ears。〃
A faint pallor clouded Mapes's face。 He took up a pen and wrote the names of the buyers on a pad。 Then he tore off the paper and handed it to Pitt。
One shell had been ordered by the British Imperial War Museum； in London。 Two had gone to the Veterans of Foreign Wars； Dayton City Post 9974； Oklahoma。 The remaining thirty…seven were purchased by an agent representing the African Army of Revolution。 No address was given。
Pitt slipped the paper into his pocket and rose to his feet。 〃I'll send a team of men to remove the other gas shells in the tunnel；〃 he said coldly。 He detested Mapes； detested everything the fat little death merchant stood for。 Pitt couldn't bring himself to leave without one final shot。
〃Mapes？〃
〃Yes？〃
A thousand insults swirled in Pitt's mind； but he could not sort out any one in particular。 Finally； as Mapes's expectant expression turned to