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“She is.”

“Ah,” Tim said. “Well … I found something. Can you come down here? Now? It’s really important.”

Margaret shook her gas-mask-covered head. Was she playing some kind of mind game? Was she craving protection, perhaps because of the baby, or was this another punishment for him leaving her? Whatever her reason, Clarence didn’t have time to play along.

He thumbed the “talk” b.u.t.ton again. “I’ll be right down, Tim.”

Margaret pointed to the floor. “I need you here. Do not go down there, Clarence, you hear me?”

Bogdana watched them both, the eyes behind his gas mask showing an expression of annoyed disbelief.

Maybe Margaret had good reason to be mad, but that didn’t change the fact that Clarence had a job to do.

“Bogdana,” Clarence said to the SEAL, “stay with Doctor Montoya until I check this out. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

Bogdana nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take care of the doc.”

Clarence hesitated a moment, looked at Margaret’s angry stare one more time, then jogged toward the elevator.

b.a.l.l.s

Tim knew.

Margaret could tell from the sound of his voice. She didn’t know how he’d figured it out, but there was no question — he knew.

She had to act now.

“Sorry about this, Bogdana, but I really need a skin sample from the genitalia.”

The man’s shoulders dropped. “Please tell me you’re kidding.” Margaret shook her head. Her suit’s gas mask wobbled just a little, despite the fact that she had it on so tight it partially cut off the circulation in her face.

“Sorry, but it has to be done.”

She forced herself closer to the bloated corpse. A puddle of fluid stained the carpet beneath it — liquid from decomposition rather than blood. The man’s p.e.n.i.s and t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es looked black and shriveled, like a rotten avocado spotted with moisture.

“I need a sample” — she pointed to the decomposing member — “from right below his s.c.r.o.t.u.m.”

Bogdana shook his head, sighed. “My mother will be so proud that her only son is the military’s highest-paid collector of fromunda cheese.”

He knelt on both knees, then reached a gloved hand under the corpse’s genitalia. He lifted gently, bent his head for a closer look.

Margaret quietly drew the Sig Sauer P226 from her thigh holster. She pointed it at the back of Bogdana’s head and pulled the trigger.

SHOTS FIRED