Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

It took thirty seconds to acquire the signal, thirty seconds that lasted a lifetime. Then it was over, reduced to a barely perceptible vibration beneath Tiger’s sweat-slicked palms. The driver left his earmuffs on. Tiger grabbed ahold of the sliding door and stepped into the bright fluorescent light filling the back of the van.

“You were late. You almost missed us.”

The light wasn’t natural. It radiated from the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Coming in from the night, it made Tiger’s eyes water. He squinted and sniffed, and waited for his vision to clear.

“But I didn’t,” he asserted.

The Connection remained blurry behind his massive black desk. A soft-featured man on the far side of fifty, with pale hair the same color as his pale skin. Tiger’s heart skipped a beat—he thought he recognized the face. He did—a congressman from Nowhere, North Dakota, who’d just resigned his seat in disgrace. The Connection’s idea of a joke.

The simple fact was, it didn’t matter if Tiger’s eyes ever got focused. Nothing here was real. It was all souped-up, high-tech gadgetry. The Connection never looked the same, sounded the same two times running, because the Connection wasn’t here. God only knew where the Connection was when he beamed his holograph into the van. God only knew what he really looked like.

“Might I remind you that I despise arrogance even more than I despise carelessness?”

It didn’t matter what the Connection looked like—or what he did to his voice. Tiger knew he was in the presence of his boss, and that was all that mattered. For now. Until he was The Tiger and ready to take over.