Tikki is not absolutely sure, but guesses that these are the same three men who came in answer to Remo's call just the other night. They have the look of executive-class, urban-style mercenaries: close-trimmed hair, aviator shades, neatly tailored suits. They move like commandos, fashionable soldiers charging into combat. One lifts a portacom and exclaims. "Alert! Alert!" Another tugs a heavy automatic out from under his jacket. The third hurriedly cocks a submachine gun and loops the strap over his shoulder. If they are concerned about all the streetlife standing around, they do not show it. They are coming straight toward her. shoving people out of their way and shouting. That's fine with Tikki. She's been waiting half the night already for someone to make a move.