* * * * *

 As soon as they had finished questioning Abu Kamal, the older of the two "Tuaregs" had given the younger one a test tube.  The latter then stuck a hypodermic needle through the cork and filled it up, completely.  When that had been accomplished, he injected Kamal and his still-unconscious bodyguards with the contents. 

They shrank, almost immediately.

 Whereupon, the younger "Tuareg" carried them to the female servants' quarters.  Using his tanto knife to slice through the ropes binding the women with almost-soundless ease.  All before telling them:  "Voici quelques jouets pour vous.* "

  Upon rejoining the older "Tuareg," he said (in perfect English):  "How much you want to bet the previous status quo changes before nightfall?"

  The older "Tuareg" grinned and winked:  "No takers."

   As soon as they arrived at their next destination, twenty-fours later, Anjiro Watanabe went straight to their host's radiotelephone and activated the built-in scrambler.  Consequently, he was ready when the dispatcher came on with the usual catch phrase.

"American Fidelity Insurance."

"This is Stalking Horse.  Put me through to Top Dog."

Sixty seconds later, Dr. Ezra Long's voice came over the receiver.

 "Stalking Horse?"

 "Clean, green, and larger-than-life!  How are you?"

 "Forego the jocularity.  Proceed with sit-rep."

 "Okay, okay!  Your intel was right.  Subic Bey did attend the meeting as hired interpreter between Kamal and Fujita.  But, Kamal attended it purely as spokesman for the true mastermind!  A KGB agent-provocateur currently living and working in Paris as a free-lance shutterbug for some high-fashion magazine."

 "Interesting!  Does this 'faux-tographer' happen to have a name?"

 "Dolores Gaston.  Supposedly born and raised in Bayonne as the only daughter of Spanish Basque separatists-in-exile. But, Kamal told us he's done enough business with DGI 'military advisors' that he knows a Cuban accent when hears one!  Fortunately, however, he was smart enough not to voice that opinion out loud."

 "I see.  What about Fujita?  Do you think he's really Heikegani-ryu?"

 "Probably more like one of those outsiders they've been know to occasionally train at special request.  That won't make him any the less dangerous, of course."

 "Agreed.  That's why I followed your advice about giving the princess some extra security.  Meanwhile, I want you to make Paris your next stop and investigate this Mlle. Gaston a lot further."

"Roger that.  Stalking Horse; over and out."

 * * * * *

MAGIC CITY, TEXAS

(ONE WEEK LATER)

 There was awkward silence for a minute or two after Jumana got off the phone with her chief bodyguard, Captain Ali Hassan.  So, Dad decided to break it by asking a rather pertinent question.  From where he was seated on Brooke Rivera's lap (with the both young ladies sitting on the sofa in the hotel suite's main living room), he looked up at the Crown Princess of Najranistan and bluntly asked:

 "Where have you seen shrunken men before, Your Highness?"

 She glared down at him, right away.

 "I beg your pardon?"

 "You were less dumbfounded than Brooke, here, by the sight of me after I fell out of your boot.  Only someone who's seen a shrinkie, at least once before, reacts with the relative quickness you did in picking me up."

 Brooke looked at Jumana:  "That's right.  You did.  I was still practically paralyzed!"

 Jumana half-smiled apologetically:  "Sorry.  But, you have to understand.  Where I'm from, shrunken men aren't exactly an everyday occurrence!  And, in my case?  It happened to my older brother, Mustafa."

 Before she could elaborate, she was interrupted by the sound of several men shouting excitedly.  Followed by gunshots!

 tbc