The studios of BAD-TV were not the largest in Hollywood by any means...but they were still big enough that the figure dressed in a dark leather trench coat and fedora could move about without attracting too much attention. He would appear in various places at various times, always watching, seldom saying anything...and occasionally making a note into a small leather notebook.

One day he would be seen hanging around the commissary, another day it would be the wardrobe department, the next might find him in the equipment rooms. At no time did he get in anyone's way...and afterward, no one could remember seeing him or explain what he had done while there.

Had they been keeping track, they might have discovered that he had been around for several weeks...both here and at the facilities of Lazy Dog Productions...but there was no one who was keeping track. His face would remain expressionless when others happened to be around, but when he was alone--as now outside the office of Kendall Caledonii--his mouth assumed a frown of displeasure. With a brisk motion, he snapped his notebook closed, and placed his pen in an inner pocket of his coat. He set off down the hall....

Outside the double doors, the man halted for just a moment to stare at the name-plate:

The tall man entered, and stood before the desk, eying the young man sitting there with cold greenish eyes. When the man looked up, he stopped fidgeting with his papers, and swallowed.

"Yes? May I help you?"

"You vill announce me to Herr LeSexec at once." The german accent was cool as the wind from the slopes of the Matterhorn.

Tim stared back at the man...he was on much firmer ground now--no one--no one--got in to see the president without an appointment...especially someone who hadn't called in advance to arrange an appointment to make an appointment.

"I'm afraid Mr. LeSexec is out...you'll have to make an appointment...with his busy schedule, it could be several days, perhaps a week."

The expression on the visitor's face didn't change, but anyone else could have sworn the room had become colder. Tim sat unphased--he had been in every nightclub in LA...and he feared nothing that walked on two legs.

"Herr LeSexec vill see me...at his return, tell him that Herr Terenz vill expect his call at noon tomorrow..."

"Honey, you don't scare me--make an appointment, or get out."

Hermann Terenz turned to leave, but his final words caused Tim to pause.

"I suggest you tell your boss of my visit--he vill be most unhappy if you do not. He knows of me, and what I can do...but you might remind him of--Angela."

Tim laughed quietly--after the man had left...but he made a note anyway for Mr. LeSexec.