Frank was taken inside and led to the room he had been spying on. "What's this?" Jim asked, standing up and coming to stand in front of Frank.

"He was sneaking around and looking in the windows," Frank's heavy-set captor replied.

"Why were you spying on me?" Jim asked.

"I wasn't," Frank denied, shaking his head. "I was following him," he added, pointing at Joe.

"Why?" Shandra demanded hotly, her blue eyes flashing.

"I work at Thompson Security," Frank answered. "He's supposed to be a handyman there but I think he's a spy."

"Why?" asked Frank's captor, looking at Joe.

"He was pretending to fix something in my office today," Frank fibbed. "I had to leave for a minute. When I came back, he was making a copy of one of my files."

"How can you be sure?" Shandra persisted.

"Because after he pocketed the disk, I lifted it on his way out and checked it," Frank answered.

Joe surreptitiously checked his back pocket when he saw Greg, the driver of the van during the hold-up, and Jim's friend, turn to look at him.

"If what you are saying is true, then why didn't you alert security?" Greg asked Frank, returning his attention to the intruder.

"I wanted to find out who he was working for," Frank replied.

"You're a cop?" Jim asked sarcastically.

"No," Frank answered, lowering his eyes and trying to look uncomfortable.

"Then why were you following him?" Shandra demanded, coming over to within an inch of Frank's face and glaring at him.

"I thought if I could get something on him, I could get a raise or a promotion," Frank admitted to everyone.

"Yeah, right," Shandra muttered in disbelief.

"Thompson's been having trouble with their equipment," Frank told her. "If he was responsible, and I turned him in, then I could get a raise at the very least," Frank insisted hotly.

"He can't be responsible. He only started today!" Shandra informed him triumphantly.

Frank started to say something but Freddie, the man with the gun on him, spoke first. "It's time you were leaving," he said, taking Frank's arm and escorting him off the premises.

"The nerve!" Shandra said angrily, then turned to stare at Joe. "Why were you copying his files?"

"I didn't," Joe denied half-heartedly. "He was lying."

"Then why was he following you?" she insisted.

"He was lying!" Joe shouted in his own defense. "He was caught spying and he lied to save his own hide."

"He's right," Greg stated. "I watched you two when you came in. He was nowhere in sight." Greg looked at Joe thoughtfully as he said this. "Shandra," he said, turning to look at her. "Would you be a dear and fix some sandwiches before we start our game?"

"We've eaten," Shandra informed him.

"We haven't," Jim countered.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll bring some chips and cheese to snack on for later," she added before leaving the room.

"Have a seat Joe," Jim urged him as he and Greg sat down. Joe sat back down at the table as Frediie returned.

"Why did you want the files?" Jim asked.

"Don't try to deny it," Greg quickly put in. "I saw you check your pocket when that guy said he had lifted it from you."

"Then why didn't you let him turn me in?" Joe asked.

"Your response first, please," Jim insisted, leaning forward and watching Joe intently.

"I like old cars," Joe stated. "I work on them and sell them. What I would like is to be able to keep one I have worked on. I'm sick of seeing people show off their classics when I am the one responsible for them being in such great condition." He watched to see if they were buying any of it before he continued.

"I thought I could make some extra dough if I could get something and sell it to a competitor of Thompson's," Joe finished.

"And you came here with Shandra in order to spy on her?" Jim asked.

"No way!" Joe denied empathetically. "I really like her."

Jim looked at the other men who each gave a solitary nod as if agreeing on something. "Don't worry about the disk," Jim told Joe, leaning back and relaxing.

"Why?" Joe asked, puzzled.

"We have a business proposition you might be interested in," Freddie told him.

"And that would be?" Joe asked when he didn't elaborate.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow," Jim promised. "We have three more associates to confer with before making you a member."

"Is Shandra one?" Joe asked.

Jim laughed. "Do you doubt you would have her vote if she is?" he asked, evading a direct answer.

"Here we are," Shandra said, entering the room with a tray.

Joe stayed and played cards until after nine o'clock. Shandra drove him to the Motor Eight motel and dropped him off. "How long have you been staying here?" she asked.

"Not long," Joe replied with a small smile, knowing he didn't even have a room there. "And I am not going to stay much longer," he added.

"See you tomorrow," Shandra told him, leaning over and kissing Joe before he got out of her car.

"How about dinner on me tomorrow?" Joe asked. "I need to see Jim after work and I can pick you up at seven?"

"Sounds good," she agreed and left.

Joe called a cab and went home. He found his dad and brother in the living room watching the early news.

"I don't like it," Mr. Hardy said after Joe had brought them up to date. "It's too dangerous."

"How else are we going to find out how they are clearing the cameras?" Joe argued. "And what they are really doing?" he added. "The bank robbery was a farce."

"They did rob it," Frank reminded him.

"But it wasn't really the money they were after," Joe quickly pointed out.

"They play rough," Mr. Hardy reminded Joe. "If they were to discover who you are, they wouldn't stop at beating you up this time," he continued. "They would kill you."

"In this get up?" Joe asked, looking in the mirror at his disguise. "Frank didn't even recognize me."

It took an hour of arguing and nagging, but Mr. Hardy finally agreed to Joe's joining the gang. Joe had managed to talk him into it while Frank went to answer the phone. When Frank came back to report the police thought the death at Thompson had been an accident, he found Joe smiling smuggly and knew the battle had been lost.

The next morning Frank and Joe awoke early to reapply their disguises. "Be careful," Frank reminded Joe for the tenth time. "We're supposed to be enemies and if they catch us together at all, you could blow your cover."

"Don't worry," Joe told him, sighing wearily. First his dad had reminded him half a dozen times and now Frank. "I'll be careful."

Arriving at work, Frank was surprised to see Anthony. "What are you doing out of the hospital?" Frank asked.

"It's going to take a lot more than a leg wound to keep me from finding out what's wrong with our satellite," Anthony asserted as he turned back to his monitor. "Did you get anything done yesterday?" he asked.

Frank took a seat at his computer and told Anthony about his systems analysis and his detailed checks on various programs. "I haven't come across any abnormalities," he concluded.

"Well, let's get back to work," Anthony said, pulling up a menu.

Frank pulled a file from shipping and started reviewing it. With Anthony preoccupied, he sent a copy of it to his own computer at home. He wanted to get a list of shipments and put it against the physical inventory. Maybe he could find out which shipments were being stolen, what they consisted of, where they were from, and for what project they were earmarked.

"Frank," Anthony interrupted Frank's train of thought. "Take a look at this."

Frank went over and stood behind Anthony's chair to view his monitor. "What did you find?" Frank asked, looking at the screen where a menu was displayed.

"Every time I try to pull the file LoLP up, this happens," Anthony said, initiating a command. The screen went black and then the menu popped up again.

"What is LoLP supposed to be?" Frank asked, reaching over Anthony's shoulder and re-entering the command.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it has over a hundred kilobytes."

"Is there another way to access the file?" Frank inquired.

"Maybe," Anthony replied. "But it will take some time. I'll work on this and you check to see if any other files are acting up."

"Right," Frank agreed and returned to his terminal.

Meanwhile, Joe's job had taken him back to the video control area. Harrison's replacement had arrived and he required a larger work area so Joe had to construct an extension tot he desk.

The room was empty when Joe arrived so he set his tools and the flats down and went to Steve's terminal. Turning it on, he saw the screen flipping every few seconds. After two minutes of this, Joe typed in the file name that kept popping up on the screen. LoLP. Next he took a disk from Steve's new pack and inserted it into the computer. Knowing he didn't have time to download it and read it, he saved it to disk.

He pulled the copy out and slipped it into his back pocket and returned to his scheduled task. Less than five minutes later, the door to the room opened and Steve came inside.

"I thought you would be finished by now," he said, walking in and going over to his desk. He opened the top drawer and dropped two file folders inside.

"I finished the outlet yesterday," Joe admitted. "But your new roommate wants a bigger desk," he added.

"What are you talking about?" Steve demanded.

"Harrison was electrocuted yesterday," Joe told him, realizing Steve really didn't know anything about it. "Thompson's has already found his replacement."

"Great!" Steve said angrily. "Another partner to slow me down." He showed no saddness or joy over Harrison's death. Only disgust at not having the area to himself. "Well, don't just stand there," he added to Joe. "Finish up and get out of here."

"Keep your shirt on," Joe told him. "I'll finish when I feel like it."

"That attitude won't keep you employed," Steve stated snidely, grabbing Joe's arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Maybe I don't need to be employed anymore," Joe returned, pulling his arm free.

Steve looked Joe in the eyes and took note of his belligerence. He also saw a spark of intelligence, so he backed off and smiled. "You're Shandra's friend," he noted.

"What of it?" Joe demanded.

"Any friend of Shandra's is a friend of mine," Steve replied and held out his hand.

Joe looked at Steve for a moment trying to discern if this was some type of trap. After a brief hesitation, Joe took Steve's hand and shook it. At that moment, an alarm blared throughout the room.

"What's that?" Joe asked, looking up at the intercom where the sound seemed to be emanating.

"Fire alarm," Steve told him, heading for the door. "Everybody out."

Joe and Steve raced along with the other occupants from the building. They gathered outside and watched as smoke began billowing out the second floor.

"It started on the second floor," he overheard one man say to another. "One of the computers in 219 blew up."

'219,' Joe thought. 'That's where Frank is working!'