Haeftin Plitz sat at his oaken desk, tapping his pen on a stack of blotting paper. Adjutant? He thought. More like agitated. He stopped tapping and smiled. That was clever. But soon he was tapping again. She should have been back by now. Catching one little spy should have been easy for Mezmoriia. Haeftin had expected her back in a couple hours, or at least by sundown, pathetic traitor in tow, and by morning he'd be filing her interrogation notes, full of everything the Red Leopard knew. But the sun was setting. Where on earth was she? The lieutenant snapped, lighting the oil lamps. The office was filled with a warm glow.  If only there were more papers to file, or something to do. He wasn't going to leave the office until his boss was back. He hoped it would be soon.