Steve poked around the Livermore computers for a while and learned that SDI funding was in more serious jeopardy than pub- licly acknowledged. He discovered that the last 3 underground nuclear test explosions outside of Las Vegas were underyield, and no one knew why. Then he found some super-technical proposals that sounded like pure science fiction: Moving small asteroids from between Mars and Jupiter into orbit around the Earth would make lovely weapons to drop on your ene- mies. War mongers. All of this fascinating information, available to anyone with a computer and a little chutzbah. * * * * * Alexander Spiradon had picked Sir George and his other subjects carefully, as he had been trained to do. He had spent the better part of twenty years working for West German Military Intelligence, Reichenbunnestrad Dunnernecht Deutchelande, making less money than he required to live in the style he desired. To supplement his income, he occasionally performed extracurricular activities for special interest groups throughout Europe. A little information to the IRA in Northern Ireland, a warning to the Red Brigade about an impending raid. Even the Hizballah, the Party of God for Lebanese terrorists had occasion to use Alex's Services. Nothing that would compromise his country, he rationalized, just a little help to the various political factions that have become an annoyance to their respec- tive governments. Alex suddenly resigned in 1984 when he had collected enough freelance fees to support his habits, but he was unaware that his own agency had had him under surveillance for years, waiting for him to slip up. He hadn't, and with predictable German Govern- ment efficiency, upon his departure from the RDD, his file was promptly retired and his subsequent activities ignored. Alex began his full time free-lance career as a 'Provider of Information'. With fees of no less than 250,000 DM, Alex didn't need to work much. He could pick and choose his clients as he weighed the risks and benefits of each potential assignment. With his network of intelligence contacts from Scotland Yard, Le Surite, and the Mossad, he had access to the kind of information that terrorists pay for dearly . It was a good living. No guns, no danger, just information. His latest client guaranteed Alex three years of work for a flat fee in the millions of Deutch Marks. It was the intelligence assignment of a lifetime, one that insured a peaceful and pros- perous retirement for Alex. He wasn't the perennial spy, politi- cally or dogmatically motivated. Alex wanted the money.