Razor leapt out of the TurboKat and skulked over to his locker. He yanked his helmet off, tossed it into the corner and announced, "Dibs on the shower."

T-Bone came behind him at a respectable distance, nose wrinkled. "If you weren't headed in, buddy, I'd throw you in."

Wheeling around, Jake tossed his hands in the air. "Hey, just because I had to go down in the sewer, again, while you hung out in the TurboKat." He started shucking off his gloves. "You know that guy I pulled out of the sewer?"

"Yeah - geez, what a moron. Heck, he had plentya time to hightail it outta there..."

"He was a photographer."

"Oh! Shoulda guessed." He walked over to his locker to pull out his coveralls. "You shoulda let him drown."

Jake shook his head. "Yeah - that'd be just what my conscience needs. Besides, you know the paper would have a field day with that one." He held up his hands to mimic a newspaper headline. "'Swat Kat Refuses Aid to Press - Conspiracy Suggested'. So, instead he'll probably get himself a promotion for getting the story of the month...and I'll get...what?"

"A hot shower."

"Some reward." He peeled off his uniform, and kicked it across the floor with distaste. "Now I'll have to wash this thing again."

Chance leaned against his locker, trying to read Jake's mood. "You feeling any better?"

Jake looked back at Chance and half-shrugged. "Sort of. It's always better as long as we're out on missions like this."

"Why's that?"

"I dunno. No time to think about it, I guess. I'll see how I feel after the shower."

He shuffled off towards the bathroom, while Chance headed back to the garage. Nothing on the answering machine - cool, he thought. Then again, that means Miss Briggs didn't call back. Of course, why should she? I did sort of tick her off. She'll come around. Well, I'm pretty sure she will. He walked up to the Chrysler and picked up a socket wrench.

The first brake pad was already on when Jake came in. He was freshly scrubbed, but wearing a ripped T-shirt and jeans. "Hey, there, sharp dressed kat," said Chance.

"Messy clothes for a messy mind," said Jake. "Look, I've been thinking about that audit."

"Ditto. First off, what are we going to do about all that paperwork?"

"Well, maybe you were right. Maybe we could advertise for someone...find someone to take care of the paperwork for us...someone we could take into our confidence here." He shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to see who applies, in any case."

A big grin played on Chance's face. "So ya think ya might wanna use this?" He dug into his front pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed off to Jake. Jake unfolded it and read, "Wanted - parttime office clerk...what's this?"

"Want ad. S'OK to call it into the Times?"

Jake didn't move for a second, then smiled. "You bet. But you spelled 'opportunity' wrong."

Chance crossed his arms. "Hey, as long as you're in this funk, someone's got to get some stuff done around here."

"Well, thanks for stepping in. I'll call it in tonight." Jake high-fived Chance as he walked over to a beat-up Toyota. "You did save this one for me, I hope?"

"Well, you gotta have some fun."

"Grbtlrbrntz...," muttered Chance, coming into Jake's workshop.

Jake looked up from his missile. "Another great interview, huh?"

Seating himself on the desk well away from the explosives, Chance spread his arms wide. "Megakat City's huge. Somewhere out there, there's gotta be a kat who can handle an easy paper pushin' job...but she ain't stopped by here yet, I can tell you that much." He leaned closer to Jake, jerking a thumb behind him. "This last one wanted to know if she could have the next three weeks off."

Jake looked confused. "But we haven't even hired her yet."

Chance nodded. "I know. I told her she can have every week off. And the guy before her needed help spelling his name right."

"And the girl before him? The one you thought was so good-looking?"

Chance shook his head. "Dumb as a box of sticks." Then he smiled, big. "But I got her phone number...you know, just in case."

Jake smiled back. "That's Chance, always thinking."

"Yep. But, heck, Jake, we may as well forget about hiring anyone. I mean, forget about that whole confidence thing - we're having enough problems now finding someone who can even do the job."

"Hm. You want me to take this next interview? I could use a break from...this." He made a face at the missile parts.

Chance waved him towards the door. "Be my guest. Just don't get your hopes up. I don't need you getting back here all depressed."

Jake wiped his hands and walked to the front of the garage. Waiting there, absently looking out the window, was a smallish black kat in a poorly pressed sports shirt and jeans. Jake gave him the two-second lookover. Bookworm, computer geek, probably watches public TV. On the plus side, he probably doesn't have any friends. Then again, he probably blabs any secrets he might come upon to what friends he had.

Turning around, the black kat smiled politely and held out his hand. "Mr Clawson, correct?" he asked. Jake nodded. "I'm Marcus Greene." They shook hands, and Jake waved him into the office. Jake took his place at the desk, and tried to slip into businessman mode. He scanned the resume, then frowned. College degree? Office manager of Megakat Computers? This guy was obviously way overqualified. He's probably thinking this was a much bigger position than it is. Well, no reason to string him along. Better just get rid of him. "You realize that this is just a part-time position?" he asked, peeking over the top of the paper.

Marcus nodded. "Yeah. Right now, I'm mainly doing freelance work where I can set my own hours, so I'm sort of looking for something to supplement that."

Tilting his head a bit, Jake added, "...and the pay here isn't that great."

Cryptically, Marcus smiled and said, "Yeah, I figured as much."

Jake paused for a few seconds. "Well, I'm sure you could handle the work...but I don't really see why you'd want to work here. You could probably pull down a much better position than this with these credentials."

Marcus answered, "Times're tough, Mr Clawson. You take what work comes along. Besides, this location...appeals to me."

Jake flipped the page over to look at his list of references. "What type of freelance work do you do?"

Marcus gave Jake a self-satisfied smile. "A couple of things. I do some bookkeeping for a law firm, and I do a little free-lance computer work out of my home."

"Enough to keep you busy?"

"Not busy enough - that's why I'm here."

"I don't wanna work you to death."

Marcus politely laughed. "That's no problem. I've got plenty of time for my hobbies."

"Football, hunting?" asked Jake, mildly sarcastically.

Marcus recognized a dig when he heard on, but he played along. "No, gave those up. Um...I solve mysteries."

Jake glanced up from the reference list, smiled, and offered, "Detective novels?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, real life mysteries." He leaned forward a bit. "I recently solved a rather...unusual mystery."

Jake continued looking over the resume, and said, absently, "Really?"

Marcus leaned back. "Yes. My last project was determining the identities of the SwatKats."

Looking back up at Marcus, Jake counted to five, then complimented himself on remaining calm...well, outwardly calm. He quietly took a breath, then leaned over the desk and said, "Let me get this straight. You figured out who the SwatKats are?"

Nodding, Marcus said, "Yeah."

Jake paused, then asked, "Well, don't keep me in suspense. Tell me - who are they?"

Marcus paused before saying , "I don't think I should tell you that." He leaned forward, bringing his head inches from Jake's. He put his hands on the desk, still smiling, and continued in a very low voice. "For instance, say you're one of the SwatKats. You wouldn't want anyone going around and giving out that information, would you?"

Jake shook his head. "Well, no, I guess not But you...you figured this out? By yourself?"

Jake didn't think Marcus' smile could get any bigger, but he was wrong. Marcus leaned back, his proud smile threatening to consume his face. "All by my lonesome."

"Who...hired you to do this?"

Marcus said, "Oh, it was just me. Like I said, it's just a hobby. I was just curious. Kind of an intellectual exercise, simply for my own personal gratification. You know, just to see if I could do it. I don't plan on publishing my findings or anything."

Jake took a deep breath, then let it out. "Have you...confirmed your guess in any way? Like, have you met them? I mean, the ones you believe to be the SwatKats?"

"Yes, I have, in fact." Suddenly, Marcus shook his head. "Well, to be honest, I've met one of them. And I hope to meet the other fairly soon."

"Mm-hm." Jake stood up. "Could you wait here a minute? I probably should introduce you to my partner here." Unsteadily, he walked to the garage. "Hey, Chance!" Chance peered out from under a hood. "Could you...come here a minute?"

Uncertainly, Chance closed the hood and came into the lobby. Marcus stood up to greet him. "Hello, Mr Furlong. I'm Marcus Greene." He held out his hand again.

Chance reached out, but, noticing how greasy his own hand was, pulled it away at the last second, and sort of waved. "Uh, good to meetcha, Marcus."

"Mr Greene is interested in our part-time position here," Jake said, too cheerfully, "and it seems he's quite the detective. He's solved all sorts of little mysteries..." Then, with as little emphasis as he could, he added, "...like finding out who the SwatKats are." Chance wasn't quite the actor Jake was. His eyes got really big, and his mouth slowly dropped open. Jake went on, "And he says he's met one of them...isn't that so, Mr Greene?"

Looking rather smug, Marcus admitted, "Well, actually, I've met both of them."

Jake, pushing by Chance, strode over to Marcus and put his arm around his shoulder, leading him towards the exit. "Well, Marcus, I'm really happy you stopped by. I'm sure you'd make a great addition to our little place here, and we'll be giving you a call either way by the end of the week."

Marcus looked behind him, flabbergasted, but managed to blurt out, "It was really nice meeting you two," before Jake half led, half pushed him out the door. Jake turned to Chance, and for a full minute, neither of them said anything. Finally, Jake swung his hand around, as if knocking over a house of cards, then walked back into the workshop.