“Okay.”
Bud stood aside and stared at him in baffled surprise. The stranger adjusted his white, gold-threaded turban, then walked in.
“My name is Mirza,” he said. “Is Mr. Tom Swift Jr. here?”
Everyone looked at him in surprise. Tom spoke up, “I’m Tom Swift.”
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44 TRIPHIBIAN ATOM1CAR
The man bowed and made a gesture of salaam. “I am the secretary to Mr.
Nurhan Flambo, the head of Pan-Islamic Engineering Associates. Mr. Flambo is now at your atomic research station and urgently wishes to confer with you.”
Mr. Flambo, the secretary explained, had flown from the Middle East via New York for the sole purpose of seeing Tom Swift. After landing in New Mexico he had taken a car directly from the airport to the Citadel. There, Mr. Flambo had learned of Tom Swift’s trip to Taos and had sent Mirza to summon him back at once.
“Why didn’t he come to Taos himself?” Bud demanded. Mirza merely shrugged.
Tom, too, was somewhat irritated by the highhanded demand. Evidently Flambo was accustomed to having people jump when he issued orders. On the other hand, if he had flown all the way from the Middle East, there must be an important reason and it seemed only polite to see him.
Tom frowned a moment, then said, “Sorry to break up our outing, Phyl and Sandy, but maybe I’d better go back. Bud, suppose you and the girls stay here.
Mr. Mirza can drive me back.”
Arriving at the Citadel, Tom found his visitor pacing back and forth in the lobby of the reception building. Flambo, a gaunt, hawk-nosed man with a trim black beard, greeted Tom with an angry glare.