That Sweet Little Old Lady

me head of the FBI purely because hehappened to have an initial _J_ in his name, but in his case the _J_stood for Jeremiah. And, at the moment, his tone expressed all thehopelessness of that Old Testament prophet's lamentations."We're helpless," he said, looking at the young man with the crisp brownhair who was sitting across the desk. "That's what it is, we'rehelpless."Kenneth Malone tried to look dependable. "Just tell me what to do," hesaid."You're a good agent, Kenneth," Burris said. "You're one of the best.That's why you've been picked for this job. And I want to say that Ipicked you personally. Believe me, there's never been anything like itbefore.""I'll do my best," Malone said at random. He was twenty-eight, and hehad been an FBI agent for three years. In that time, he had, among otherthings, managed to break up a gang of smugglers, track down acounterfeiting ring, and capture three kidnappers. For reasons which hecould neither understand nor explain, no one seemed willing to attributehis record to luck...