Part 28 (1/2)

Cameron craned around in time to see her glide through the revolving door. Good G.o.d, you're right.

Jefferson took the camera upstairs and called Ray, who, along with Mendez, was coordinating things in Marty's absence.

Ray was at the Clinic. He downloaded the pictures of her and studied them. No problem. We'll keep an eye out for her.

Less than a minute later, she walked into the Clinic. The metal detectors didn't catch either of her weapons.

But she didn't pull out a picture of Amelia and ask whether anyone had seen her; Gavrila knew that Amelia had been in this building, and a.s.sumed it was enemy territory.

She told the receptionist she wanted to talk about a jack installation, but she refused to talk to anyone but the top man.

Dr. Spencer's in surgery, she said. It will be at least two hours, maybe three. There are plenty of other people- I'll wait. Gavrila sat down on a couch with a clear view of the entrance.

In another room, Dr. Spencer joined Ray looking at a monitor watching the woman watching the entrance.

They say she's dangerous, Ray said; some sort of spy or a.s.sa.s.sin. She's looking for Blaze.

I don't want any trouble with your government. Did I say she was government? If she was official, wouldn't she produce credentials? Not if she was an a.s.sa.s.sin.

The government doesn't have a.s.sa.s.sins!

Oh, really. Do you also believe in your Santa Claus?

I mean, no, not for us. There's a crackpot religious group that's after Marty and his people. She's either one of them or she was hired by them. He explained about her suspicious activity at the hotel.

Spencer stared at her image. I believe you are correct. I have studied thousands of faces. Hers is Scandinavian, not Mexican. She probably has dyed her blond hair-or no, she's wearing a wig. But what do you expect me to do about her?

I don't suppose you could just lock her up and throw away the key.

Please. This is not the United States.

Well... I want to talk to her. But she may be really dangerous.

She has no knife or gun. That would have registered as she walked through the door.

Hm. Don't suppose I could borrow a guy with a gun to watch over her while we talked?

As I said- 'This is not the United States.' What about that old hombre downstairs with the machine gun?

He does not work for me. He works for the garage. How dangerous could this woman be, if she has no weapon?

More dangerous than me. My education was sadly neglected in the mayhem category. Do you at least have a room where I could talk to her and have somebody watching, in case she decides to tear off my head and beat me to death with it?

That's not difficult. Take her to room 1. He aimed a remote and clicked. The screen showed an interview room. It's a special room for seguridad. Take her in there and I will watch. For ten or fifteen minutes; then I will ask someone else to watch.

These ultimodiadores - you call them Enders - is that what this is all about?

There's a relation.

But they are harmless. Silly people, and what, blaspheming? But harmless, except to their own souls.

Not these, Dr. Spencer. If we could jack, you'd understand how scared I am of her. For Spencer's protection, no one who knew the whole plan could jack with him two-way. He accepted the condition as typical American paranoia.

I have a male nurse who is very fat... no, very large-and who knows, who grasps, a black belt in karate. He will be watching along with me.

No. By the time he got down the stairs, she could kill me.

Spencer nodded and thought. I'll put him in the room next door, with a beeper. He held up the remote and pushed a b.u.t.ton. Like now. This will call him.

Ray excused himself and went to the bathroom, where he was unable to do anything but catalogue his weapons: a key ring and a Swiss Army knife. Back in the observation room he met Lalo, who had arms the size of Ray's thighs. He spoke no English and moved with the nervous delicacy of a man who knows how easily things break. They walked downstairs together. Lalo slipped into room 2, and Ray went into the lobby.

Madame? She looked up at him, targeting. I'm Dr. Spencer. And you?

Jane Smith. Can we go someplace and talk?

He led her to room 1, which was larger than it had seemed in the camera. He motioned her to the couch and pulled over a chair. He straddled it, the chair back a protective s.h.i.+eld between them.

How may I help you?

You have a patient named Blaze Harding. Professor Blaze Harding. It is absolutely imperative that I speak to her.

286.

In the first place, we don't give out the names of our clients. In the second place, our clients don't always give us their real names. Ms. Smith.

Who are you, really?

What?

My sources said Dr. Spencer was Mexican. I never met a Mexican with a Boston accent.

I a.s.sure you that I am- No. She reached into her waistband and pulled out a pistol apparently made of gla.s.s. I don't have time for this. Her face became grim, set; totally mad. You are going to quietly take me from room to room until we find Professor Harding.

Ray paused. And if she's not here?

Then we'll go to a quiet place where I will cut your fingers off, one by one, until you tell me where she is.

Lalo eased the door open and swung in with a large black pistol coming up to aim. She gave him an annoyed look and shot him once in the eye. The gla.s.s pistol was almost completely silent.

He dropped the gun and fell to one knee, both hands over his face. He began a girlish keening but her second shot sheared off the top of his head. He toppled forward silently in a flood of blood and brain and cerebrospinal fluid.

Her tone of voice was unchanged: earnest and flat. You see, the only way you're going to live to see the night is to cooperate with me.

Ray was struck dumb, staring at the corpse.

Get up. Let's go.

I... I don't think she's here.

Then where- She was interrupted by the rattling sound of metal shutters rolling down over the door and window.