Implant

She'd done something extreme, something radical, something that would appear bizarre and, well, deranged to anyone who didn't fully understand the threat the implant posed to her.

In short, showing Gerry that bloody implant and telling him she'd cut it out of her own leg might only confirm his worst fears about her sanity. Her paranoid delusions had now escalated to self-mutilation.

Gin pressed her hands to her face. Couched in a sob, her voice rang through the tiny room.

"What am I going to do? " She had to find someone who'd believe her, someone who wouldn't think she'd watched too many episodes of Twilight Zone. . . .

Oliver.

Of course. Oliver would believe her. He was the only other person in the world who knew about both TPD and the implants. He'd understand why she'd had to cut herself open to remove the TPD.

But how would he react when she told him Duncan was behind it all?

Oliver was so devoted to his older brother. Damn near worshiped him.

Would he be able to accept the idea that Duncan was hurting people?

Another thought, a shattering one, What if Oliver was involved? No. She couldn't buy that. Oliver was the straightest of straight.

arrows. He'd be crushed at the thought of his implants being used to harm instead of heal. And if he were involved in any way, he' d never have given her Dr. VanDuyne's name.

That was it. She'd present her case to Oliver, and once he was convinced, the two of them would go to Gerry or the Secret Service, or anyone who could stop Duncan.

She stood up quickly, then sat down again, suddenly weak. Maybe she should eat something first. No breakfast, no lunch. . . just a few Snickers bars. She was asking for trouble if she didn't pack in a few calories pretty soon.

She pulled out the room service menu and ordered a hamburger, fries, and a Coke, protein, complex carbs, and caffeine. That ought to keep her going for a while.

She stood up again, a little more deliberately this time, and made her way back to the bathroom. She redressed the incision with clean gauze and secured it again with the Ace wrap. Then she pulled on her sweatshirt and carefully slipped back into her jeans. She was looking pretty normal by the time room service knocked.

She glanced out the window as the waiter positioned the rolling cart and uncovered the food. The aroma set her mouth to watering. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. Dusk outside. She'd gobble down her food and wait until it was fully dark, then she'd hustle out to the curb, jump into the first waiting cab, and make a beeline for Oliver's house.

Oliver lived in the northwest extreme of the District. She'd been there once for a dinner party. A nice little ranch in a nice neighborhood, but not even close to the same class as Duncan's.

Probably didn't even have to wait until dark. Duncan was surely long gone by now.

Tracking down Gin's credit trail took a little longer than Gerry had expected. He'd had to call Mrs. Snedecker and ask her if she'd keep Martha a few hours longer and feed her dinner. He'd spoken to Martha to tell her that he'd be late and had been warmed by her cheery 'Okay.

' Good thing she liked Mrs. S.

The credit crace came through a few minutes later showing a charge to her Visa from the Tremont Hotel on K Street. K Street! Christ, he'd just been there! What was she doing in the Tremont? Hiding?

More baffled than ever, he got the number from information and asked the desk to connect him to Ms. Panzella. He let the phone ring a dozen times, almost hung up, then listened to at least half a dozen more rings.

Where the hell was she? If she'd already checked out, the desk wouldn't have connected him. Was she afraid to answer the phone?

Gerry grabbed his coat and headed out.

* * * d , .

I

. t As night shrouded the District in umbral gloom and the streetlights flared to life, setting the misty air aglow, Duncan decided to call it quits. Obviously she was nowhere about, most likely gone for hours.

Futile to dally here any longer.

But what next? Where next? He couldn't quit now. Too much hung in the balance. As he headed for his car, he made a last-ditch effort by experimenting with a little mental exercise.

If I were Gin, and I were still in the vicinity, where could I possibly be? Where could I have hidden this long?

He rolled the question through his mind as he walked along the north end of the square. He was turning down K Street when the marquee of the Tremont Hotel caught his eye.

He paused, shook his head, took a few more steps, then stopped at the curb and stared . He''d noticed it before, but . . .

Could she have rented a hotel room? Not likely. He could see the possibility of her running in there, renting a room, and using it as a safe place to meet with her FBI man. But obviously she hadn't done that, or else Agent Canney wouldn't have been wandering around Farragut Square like a lost soul a little while ago. And Duncan couldn't see Gin holing up there by herself all afternoon watching television.

But still . . . it was one place he hadn't checked out. It wouldn't take him long. What were a few more minutes added to all the time he'd already wasted?

He entered the lobby and strolled toward the registration desk. The young man behind the counter looked at him expectantly. Duncan debated how he should pose his questions about her, then realized that no decent hotel gave out guest room numbers.

He smiled at the desk man whose badge said Roy. "House Roy pointed to the far corner of the lobby. "Right over there, by the big fern, just past the elevators." Duncan nodded his thanks. He found the row of phones and dialed "O" on the nearest.

When the operator answered, he said, "Panzella room please, " and was startled when she thanked him and connected him.

Stunned, he listened to the phone ring, wondering what he was going to say. He realized he could say nothing. He couldn't let her know he'd found her.

He hung up and leaned against the wall.

She's here.

She'd probably been here all day. But what had she been doing all this time? And why had she registered under her own name? Such a dumb thing to do, and Gin was anything but dumb.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered except the fact that he'd found her. All he needed now was her room number. He glanced over at the registration desk. Roy was alone there. Would a hundred-dollar bill, ?

And then the revolving doors began to move and Special Agent Canney strode into the lobby. Startled, Duncan froze, his heart pounding.

No! Not when I'm so close!

He ducked behind the large fern and peered through the branches.

Canney was showing his ID to the desk man and talking fast. He looked agitated.

Apparently Gin had finally got in touch with him. But if so, why was he showing his ID?

What did it matter? Duncan realized that a solution had just presented itself. The elevators were only a few feet away. Canney would go up to Gin's room and bring her down, or perhaps call her to come down and meet him. Either way, she'd have to pass close to Duncan's position.

He removed the transducer from his pocket. She'd be in range She'd feel a twinge in her thigh, but that would be it. She'd probably get all the way to the FBBuilding before the TPD kicked in.

All he had to do was wait. He'd been waiting all day. He could wait a little longer.

"I want her room number, and I want the key, and I want them now! " Gerry said.

The desk man had called out the manager, Joel Heinrich, according to his name tag. A fussy little man with a thin mustache "I'm sure you need a warrant for that kind of search. I'm certainly not authorized to barge into a guest's room, " "Dr. Panzella has not been well lately, " Gerry said, improvising.

"She's not answering her phone. She may be unconscious." That got him.

"Sick? " The fussy manager evaporated. "You mean with something contagious? " Gerry lowered his voice and moved in for the kill. "We don't know. We hope not. Something went wrong at the lab. We want to find her and quarantine her with as little fuss as possible, if you know what I mean." Heinrich knew exactly what Gerry meant. He nodded curtly and reached for his phone. "Very well. Just let me check her room once." He punched in four numbers, listened for a moment, then hung up.

"She might simply have gone out to eat."

"Let's hope so, " Gerry said, but didn't mean it He wanted to find Gin and settle this mess.

"If that's the case, I'll wait down here for her return." Heinrich searched the key rack, selected one, then pointed across the lobby.

"I'll meet you by the elevators." A few minutes later they were on the fifth floor and Heinrich was knocking on the door to 532. Gerry hovered impatiently behind him, anxious to get in there, yet dreading what he might find.

"Dr. Panzella) Dr. Panzella, this is the manager." No reply.

Please, God, nothing nasty, Gerry thought as Heinrich fitted the key into the lock. Please.

As soon as he heard the latch click, Gerry pushed past him and barged inside.

"Wait here." The lights were on. A half-eaten burger and fries swam in spilled cola on a rolling cart by the rumpled, empty bed.

"Gin? " He stepped into the bathroom. An iron fist slammed into his chest at the sight of the bloody razor blade by the sink. He stepped closer and the red in the tub caught his eye. He groaned. The porcelain was splattered up and down with blood.

Christ, what happened here?

He put a hand out and leaned against the wall for support as he dragged his gaze from the tub back to the sink counter. The bloody razor, and bottles of alcohol and peroxide as well, and a needle and thread . .

.

a bloody needle.

First some fantasy about the president having surgery, now . . .

this.

Whatever it was.

"Aw, Gin, " he whispered. "Gin, Gin, what have you done? " He stepped back into the other room and found Heinrich standing there, looking bewildered.

'"Is something wrong? Is she here? " Gerry brushed past him and checked the closet. Empty. A glance at the bed told him there wasn't room to hide under the box spring.

'"She's gone. ' He propelled Heinrich out into the hall.

I ' "Look. I want this room sealed. No one, no one, is to go in there.

Not housekeeping, not room service, not you, not anybody. Is that cl ear? " '"But why? " '"For the moment I'm treating it as a crime scene. So if that room is disturbed in the least, I'll have you up on charges of obstruction of justice and accessory after the fact. Do we understand each other? " '"Yes. Yes, certainly. ' Heinrich pulled the DO NOT DISTURB sign from inside the door and hung it on the outside knob. Then he closed the door and rattled it to make sure it was locked.

'"I'll leave word that 552 is off-limits until further notice. " "Good." Yeah, good. Fine. Heinrich knew what he had to do. But what was Gerry's next move? He was worried sick. What had she done to herself in that bathroom? And where was she now?

He had to find her. And soon. If it wasn't already too late.

Something's wrong.

Duncan was baffled and disappointed when Canney returned to the lobby without Gin, but then he noticed his grave expression and agitated manner and knew he hadn't found what he'd expected in Gin's room. Or had he found more than he'd expected?

Duncan wished he had a key to that room. What had Canney seen up there?

Just one look was all he asked.

"Any questions? " he heard Canney say to the manager. "You've got her description and you've got my card. Any one sees her, you call me right away. Clear? " The manager nodded and mumbled something that Duncan missed. It wasn't important. What mattered was that Gin wasn't here. She'd left without checking out. And Canney didn't expect her back soon, otherwise he'd be hanging around.

He watched Canney's departure, but stayed behind the fern a while longer, giving the agent plenty of time to reach his car. And giving himself time to plan his next move.

Gin was proving damnably unpredictable. He felt his nerves fraying with every passing hour that she remained out of reach. He wondered how much more of this he could take. . When had she rented the room?

How long had she been there? And where the hell was she now? Back in her apartment?

Duncan sighed. Where else could he look? He'd go back to Adams Morgan and check it out. If she wasn't there, he could see nothing else to do but go home and wait.

If he didn't find her soon, he'd have to change his plans for tomorrow.

And he did not want to do that.

J THURSDAY NIGHT GINA STUCK HER HEAD OUT THE WINDOW OF THE CAB and glanced nervously up and down Connecticut Avenue.

"Shouldn't it be here by now? " The cabby leaned against the fender by the open hood of his vehicle and puffed on a little cigar.

"I call in. He be along any minute. Any minute. You wait." She withdrew into the interior. She didn't want to stand out on the street in plain view. That was why she'd asked the driver to call her another cab. But maybe she should have risked hailing one. Dozens of cabs had passed. She'd be well on her way to Oliver's by now if she'd grabbed one.

But that call back at the hotel . . . her heart was still racing from the fright it had given her. She'd knocked over her Coke and nearly choked on a french fry when the phone had started ringing.

Maybe it had been an accident, a misdial, someone calling 533 or 432, and maybe it hadn't. Maybe it had been Duncan, God, she didn't want to think that. Or maybe it had been Gerry.

Maybe she'd never know.

Whatever its origin, the sudden jangle of the phone had completely unnerved her. She'd stared at it in horror for a few pounding heartbeats, thinking someone had found her, someone knew she was there, and then she'd bolted. No precautions, no stealth. She hadn't even waited for an elevatorX taking the stairs instead and limping through the lobby for the street.

In retrospect, now, she realized how foolish that had been. But she'd had to get out, right then, not a second later. The hotel that had been her refuge all afternoon suddenly had become a trap.

Fortunately the lobby had been empty. That had been her good luck.

Her bad luck had been picking a taxi that would gasp and die a couple of blocks from the hotel.

"He comes now, " said her driver.

Gin craned her neck and saw another Diamond cab pull up behind hers.

She jumped out, waved her thanks to her driver, and hopped into the newcomer. She gave the driver Oliver's address and was jounced back into her seat as the cab lurched ahead. She winced with the stab of pain from her left leg.

Okay. She was on her way again. No more mishaps. Really, what were the odds of having two cabs in a row break down? Astronomical. She allowed herself to relax and began rehearsing how she'd break the news to Oliver.

As the cab pulled to a stop at Dupont Circle, Gin glanced out the window to her right. A cold tingle spread across her shoulders as a black hood with a familiar three-armed ornament slid into view. She caught her breath and froze keeping The cab's rear post between herself and the other car.

Just a black Mercedes, she told herself. Thousands of them in the District.

The Mercedes inched ahead, anxious for the green. The windshield came into view, then the steering wheel and the hands gripping it. A man's hands. And then the driver himself.

Gin gasped and pressed herself back into the seat.

Duncan.

Keep calm, keep calm, he can't see you.

But he was here, not half a dozen feet away. Had he been downtown all this while? My God, she could have run into him outside the hotel.

That must have been him on the phone. But he hadn't been in the lobby.

Maybe he'd been calling all the hotels downtown asking for Gin Panzella's room. But then why was he heading away from the Tremont instead of toward it? This made no sense, no sense at all, She huddled there begging the light to turn green. When it finally did, the cab and the Mercedes entered the circle together. But halfway around, Duncan's car turned off onto Connecticut while her cab stayed on until P Street.

Gin slumped in the seat. Safe. But where was he going? Connecticut wouldn't take him home. That was the way to . . .

. . . my plate.

As the cab turned off P and took Wisconsin uphill toward Bethesda, Gin considered her options. Her original plan had been to call Oliver from her room before heading uptown. But she'd fled before making that call.

Maybe that would work to her advantage. Maybe it was better to drop in on him cold. What if he spoke to Duncan between her call and her arrival? She shuddered. Better, safer, to knock on Oliver's door and wing it from there.

She spotted the Naval Observatory on her right and knew she was getting close.

The cab turned left off Wisconsin and soon she was leaning forward, scanning the street for any sign of a black Mercedes. She couldn't imagine how Duncan could have beaten them here after turning off on Connecticut, but she'd learned the hard way never to take anything for granted where that man was concerned. No Mercedes in sight. She paid the cabby and hurried up the walk. She rang the bell, dreading to see who'd answer. Her life seemed to have turned into a Hitchcock movie. She'd be only mildly surprised if it turned out to be Duncan.

"Gin? " Oliver said as he opened the door. "What on earth are you doing here? " He pushed open the screen door for her. "Come in, come in. i "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, " Gin said, her eyes quickly searching the cluttered living room and what she could see of the dining room beyond. "You don't have company, do you? " He smiled and shut the door behind her. He wore a Vnecked sweater over his usual white shirt, and ankle-high slippers on his feet.

"No. Although I probably should have. I'm too excited about tomorrow to sleep. I'm glad you came. ' "You may not be when I'm finished. " His smile faded. "Is something wrong? " "Yes, " she said, pulling the vial from her pocket and pressing it into his hand. "This." He stared at it. "An implant? " "Yes. I dug it out of my leg this morning. ' Oliver stared at her uncomprehendingly. "What? How . . .

? " Gin decided to hit him with everything at once. She watched his expression carefully. If for even an instant he looked as if he weren't shocked, or was faking surprise, she'd be running for the door.

"Duncan jammed it into my leg last night while I was out cold. He's been after me all day trying to dissolve it with ultrasound." A tentative smile flickered across his lips. "This is a joke, right?

You and Duncan, " "It's no joke, Oliver. That thing's filled with TPD.

" "TPD? " he said, still smiling. "What's, ? " And then the smile faded.

"TPD? How could you know about TPD? " "Triptolinic diethylamide.

Duncan keeps a vial of it in his office."

"Impossible. That's a defunct compound."

"I know. Tested and discarded by GEM Pharma, your old company."

"Right. I have the last sample." -"Really? Where?

" "In my basement. I'll show you." He led her through the dining room to the kitchen, and from there down a flight of steps.

"This is my private little lab, " he said as he turned on the overhead fluorescents. "For years I spent every night of the week and every spare moment on weekends here." Gin looked around the largely unfinished basement at the benches, retorts, ovens, centrifuges, and rows of other equipment she didn't recognize, all dusty with disuse.

"Is this where . . . ? " "Uh-huh. I developed the implant membrane here. And over there . . .

" He flicked on another set of lights. "I call it my rogues' gallery.

All the useless or discontinued compounds I worked on during my years with GEM. I kept a sample of each one." Gin was startled by the array of bottles lining an entire wall. There had to be hundreds there, perhaps even a thousand.

"So many. How would you ever find a particular one? " "Easy. They're in alphabetical order." He gave her a sheepish look. "I can't help it. That's the way I am." He stooped and ran a finger along one of the rows. "R . . . . . . T . . . " He squinted at a few bottles, grunted a few nes, then straightened and turned to Gin. "The, um, TPD . . . it's missing."

"I know, she said. She pointed to the pill bottle he still clutched in his left hand. "Some of it's in there.

Duncan has the rest." He stared down at the bottle, then at her.

"You've got to be mistaken.

Duncan wouldn't do something like that. What reason would he have? " "Because I know about the others."

"Others? " "Let's go upstairs and I'll explain everything." They sat in the kitchen, Gin sipping a can of Pepsi, the the containing the implant sitting between them in the center of the table, and Oliver leaning forward, listening intently, a look of growing horror on his face as Gin explained what she suspected about the deaths and mishaps nvolving Senators Vincent and Schulz and Congressmen llard and Lane.

She shivered with a sudden chill. Was it the Pepsi or was she starting a fever? Her strength seemed to be fading.

"Are you okay? " Oliver said.

"My incision might be getting infected."

"What incision? " Since showing was better than telling, she stood, unzipped her jeans, and turned sideways as she slid them down to her , nees. "Gin! " Oliver said, averting his face at first, then staring as the Ace bandage was revealed.

Gin unwrapped the Ace, then peeled the gauze halfway back to reveal the incision. An angry red had invaded the edges.

Oliver sucked in a breath. "Oh, dear Lord. You did that? To yourself? " Gin let him get a good look, then she smoothed the gauze back into place and began rewrapping the Ace.

H Ise was I going to get it out, Oh He said nothing, simply sat and stared at her, wonder in his eyes. "Do you have any antibiotics in the house?

pulled her jeans up.

"I've got some amoxicillin. Not his first choice but it would do for now few?

Of course." He hurried away and returned a minute later with an amber plastic bottle. Gin washed down four of the capsules with water and pocketed it for later.

Oliver was staring at the vial with the implant, shaking his head and speaking to himself as much as to Gina n't believe Duncan would do such a thing.

Well maybe to the committee members . . . I could see that . . . I mean, after Lisa died he went a little crazy, made all sorts of threats . . . but you . . . he thinks the world of you . . . he'd never .

.

. " - Poor Oliver, she thought. His heroic image of his older brother is coming undone.

"He knows I'm on to him, " Gin said softly. "And he knows I'll be in the way tomorrow Qliver's head snapped up. "Tomorrow? Oh, no! You don't think, he wouldn t!

"Yes, he would. That's why he did this to me. To give him a clear shot at the president." He got to his feet. "I've got to go see him stop him. I can talk to him. He'll listen to me.

"Will he? I wouldn't count on it."

"He'll have to. Now two people know. And soon more will. He grabbed a jacket that had been hanging over the back of a chair. "He's beaten. But still I've got to see him." Anger flashed in his eyes. "Using my implants for something like this! I've a good mind to . . . " He didn't finish the thought.

Instead, he pointed to the bottle on the table.

"Can I take that with me? " Gin grabbed it and held it tight in her fist.

"No. Sorry. This is the only proof I've got that I didn't make all this up. I'm not letting it out of my sight. And you realize, don't you, that as soon as you confront him he'll know how you found out and he'll know where I am. And since I have the only hard proof against him, I think maybe I'll disappear for a while."

"Good idea. Don't even tell me where you're going, just in case, '' He shook his head to clear it. "Who'd ever believe I'd be thinking this way about my brother? " "I know how you feel. Can you call me a cab?

" Another shiver rattled her teeth as Oliver was phoning the cab company.

She was definitely getting a fever. She hoped whatever was infecting her wasn't penicillin resistant.

'"They'll have one here in about ten minutes, " Oliver said. "I'm going to call Duncan. ' '"No! " "Just to see if he's home. No sense in going over there if he's not in." He dialed, waited, then said, "Duncan. It's me. We need to talk. No, in person. I'll explain when I get there. See you in a few minutes. ' He hung up and bustled toward the door. "Wish me luck, " he said. "And lock the door as you leave. ' Gin shivered again as the front door closed behind Oliver.

It was almost over. Duncan was at his place, Oliver was on his way there, a cab was on its way here. But where was she going?

Not another hotel. She couldn't stand the thought of another strange little box with a bed and a TV that passed for a room.

Her folks' place? The old homestead. The thought comforted her.

She'd make a quick stop at her apartment for a change of clothes, then head over to Arlington. She'd be safe there. Another chill wracked her. And warm.

Where was that cab? She took a look our the window but the driveway was empty.

She went down the hall and found Oliver's bathroom. On the top shelf of the medicine cabinet she found a thermometer. She rinsed it off, shook it down, and stuck it in her mouth. After a couple of minutes she checked it, 102.4 degrees.

No wonder I'm shivering, she thought. I'm sick.

Well, she had two grams of amoxicillin perking through her bloodstream.

It had to kick in soon. She'd left her Tylenol at the hotel, so she took a few of Oliver's.

A car horn honked outside. She hurried back to the living room and peeked out a corner of the front window. Her heart was pounding, from fever as much as fear.

If I've fallen into a B movie, she thought, there'll be a black Mercedes idling out there.

But no. It was a Diamond cab. She hurried outside, thinking that if she were in a real schlock movie, Duncan would be behind the wheel, disguised as the driver. But a black face peered out the driver window as she approached and pushed open the rear door from inside.

'"Where we going? " She gave him her address and they were off. She huddled in the back seat, shivering.

"Would you mind turning up the heat? " she said.

She was so cold her teeth were chattering.

Duncan sat mute, shaken. Oliver's arrival had taken him completely by surprise. He'd never seen his brother like this. He'd burst in and immediately launched into a blistering verbal attack. Duncan didn't know which shocked him more, Oliver's nakedX self-righteous anger, or the fact that Gin had reached Oliver and told him everything.

The words poured out of Oliver in a steady, rapid-fire fusillade. Not just his anger, but the story of Gin slicing open her own leg in that hotel room and removing an implant with drugstore equipment.

Despite his ongoing shock, Duncan had to admire the unwavering determination and pure guts Gin had shown. He doubted he'd have been able to do the same had situations been reversed. But he was glad he hadn't underestimated Gin. He'd half anticipated this. That young woman did not know the meaning of the word quit. And she was as intent as ever on stopping him.

And she just might. His whole world seemed about to crumble around him.

Visions of headlines and courtrooms and, Lord, prison swirled around him. Everything was falling apart, He shook off the visions. He had to settle down and deal with Oliver.

The situation was still salvageable, barely. He'd have to move fast.

But before he could do anything, he'd have to neutralize Oliver.

"What did she tell you, what exactly did she say she removed from her leg? " Duncan said.

"An implant, one of my implants, filled with TPD, of all things. " Duncan shot from his seat and adopted a fiercely indignant pose. "And you believe this fantastic story? " But Oliver wasn't backing down.

He leaned into Duncan's face.

"She's got the bloody implant in a bottle. She showed me. She's got a fresh incision on her leg. She showed me that too.

She knows about TPD, Duncan. How could she know about TPD if she didn't find it in your office as she says? And on the way over here, I remembered our discussion about my rogues' gallery earlier this year and telling you about TPD. You were very interested, wanted to know all about it. And tonight I couldn't find my sample bottle in the gallery.

Where's my TPD, Duncan? " Damn it. He was caught. No way to deny this. But worse was the look in Oliver's eyes. The almost worshipful regard was gone, replaced by anger and . . . fear.

My brother fevrs me.

That hurt. But no less than he deserved.

Don't fear me, Oliver. Even if I can't explain the TPD.

TPD. That was the rock-steady anchor of Gin's story. He could ascribe everything else she'd said or done to mental illness of one form or another. But that damn TPD . . . that was real. Oliver knew it better than anyone. And he'd already guessed that on one of his visits to his home, Duncan had crept down to the basement and removed the world's last remaining sample.

"Answer me, Duncan, Oliver said. "Where is it and what have you been doing with it? " No sense in denying he'd taken it. He slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"It's downstairs." He turned and began walking away. "I'll show you.

" Duncan's admission worked a dramatic change in Oliver's demeanor.

Suddenly he was solicitous.

"You've been working too hard, Duncan, " he said as he followed him to the cellar. "I've warned you about that. You need a long rest and .

. .

and maybe some . . . maybe you could talk to someone." '"You mean psychotherapy? " "Well, yes." Oliver was obviously uncomfortable telling his brother the doctor that he needed to see another doctor.

"I think that might be a good idea. I've been under terrible stress lately. And I never did get over Lisa's death . . .

finding her like that."

"I know, Duncan. You've been through a lot.

" Duncan turned on the lights. The basement was finished but dusty and musty. The previous owners had set it up as a game room but Duncan rarely set foot down here. He led Oliver to the center of the room, then stopped and looked around) feigning puzzlement.

"Now where did I put that? " He turned in a slow circle, then snapped his fingers. "I know. Walt here." He hurried for the stairs and bounded back up to the main floor where he shut the basement door and locked it. He heard Oliver rush up the steps, try the knob, then start pounding on the other side.

"Duncan! Duncan, don't do this! This is insane! " "Just one more thing left to do, Oliver, " Duncan said as he wedged one of the heavy kitchen chairs under the doorknob as a precaution. He braced the kitchen table behind that for extra insurance. "Make yourself comfortable down there. I'll let you OUt later when I'm through." No windows down there, no phone. Oliver would be neutralized until Duncan had finished what he had to do.

"She's not at my house, if that's what you're thinking. I told her to disappear to someplace safe and I don't even know where. So if you're thinking of finding her and destroying the evidence, forget it. You'll never find her." '"We'll see about that, " Duncan said.

A good chance Gin wouldn't go into hiding without stopping at her own place first. Especially if she felt safe.

He checked his coat pocket to make sure he still had his minitransducer with him, then he hurried to the garage.

Yes, as Oliver had guessed, he was certainly interested in retrieving The implant Gin had excised from her leg. That was hard evidence against him. But that wasn't the only implant involved here.

Good thing he'd had the foresight last night to place two in her thigh.

Gin felt as if her apartment were filled with water. Every move was an effort. The very air around her weighed her down. It was an ongoing test of her will to resist crawling into her bed, still unmade from this morning, and pulling the covers over her head.

At least she'd managed to change her sweaty clothes and underwear. A shower would have been wonderful but she couldn't risk the time She'd take one in Arlington, and give her folks some excuse about having the flu or something to explain her sickly looks.

She was feeling weaker than ever as she finished packing a small gym bag with another change of clothes. But at least the chills had stopped.

As a matter of fact, she was beginning to feel warm. Hot even. Maybe the amoxicillin was kicking in. Or maybe the Tylenol was breaking the fever.

She was actually a little clammy now.

And then a cool draft wrapped around her feet and she thought she heard a click from the front room.

The front door?

Oh, no. It couldn't be.

Trembling, feeling weaker with each thudding heartbeat, she stepped to her bedroom door and peered into the front room. It looked empty. But it was dark, full of long shadows cast by the light from her bedroom.

She'd left it dark so that anyone passing by wouldn't see the lights and know she was home.

Her gaze darted to the mantle where she'd left the bottle with the implant. Still there. She shuffled over and grabbed it. Yes. Same bottle. And there was the implant, safe inside.

Suddenly the glass tingled against her skin. Gin watched in horror as the implant shriveled and dissolved into a puddle of liquid. The membrane was gone, leaving only the TPD and a few floating streaks of dried blood.

She heard a rustle behind her and Duncan was there, stepping out of the shadows, the pager in his hand. Tears streaked his cheeks, his expression was tortured, his voice husky, hovering on the edge of a sob.

She turned to run, to scream for help, but she could not. Her mouth was dry, and she was so weak. Without taking her eyes off him, she reached out a shaky hand and found the edge of the couch. Two steps were all she could manage before she slumped onto the cushions.

"I'm sorry, Gin. You've left me no alternative. This is something I must do. Not just for me. For all of us." Gin opened her mouth but could not speak. Her body was bathe in sweat. She could feel it running down her skin in rivulets. An angry buzz was growing in her head.

Duncan stepped forward and took the bottle from her slick, nerveless fingers.

"I know you'll never forgive me, Gin. But I hope someday you'll understand why I had to do this." The buzzing grew louder as Gin tried to lift herself from the couch, to reach for Duncan, claw at him, but then the already darkened room went completely black, and the buzz exploded into a deafening roar, and she felt herself falling back .

.

.

But she never landed.

FRTOAY DUNCAN HAD LOST ALL HEART FOR THIS SCHEME.

Feeling utterly miserable, he drove through Chevy Chase in the predawn grayness and thought about Gin. He'd thought of little else since last night. He wondered how she was. He'd called 911 from the first public phone he found after leaving her and gave the operator Gin's address, saying there was an unconscious woman in the apartment.

The E.M.Ts would come and take her away. He hadn't stayed around. The police would be noting any onlookers, wondering which one had made the call. Duncan couldn't afford to be seen.

Placing a second implant in the trocar after he'd pierced Gin's thigh had been a last-second decision. A subhmlnal voice, more aware of her tenacity and relentless determination than his conscious mind, must have whispered to hlmX urging him to buy himself some insurance where Gin was concerned. Whatever it was, it had been right on the money.

Gin had cut her own leg open and dug out one of the implants .

But only one. Duncan had dissolved both, the one in the bottle and the one still in her thigh. The evidence was gone, and so was a brilliant mind. It would be years before the effects of the TPD wore off. Gin would find it almost impossible to get licensed when she recovered.

All her years of training, worthless. All her hopes for a career in medicine, dashed.

Duncan had sobbed like a child all the way home. He'd had to sneak into his own house so he wouldn't have to speak to Oliver. He knew his brother was comfortable down in the basement. It was heated and had its own bathroom, the extra fridge was down there, filled with juices and soft drinks. Every convenience but a phone.

Oliver probably spent a more comfortable night than I did, Duncan thought.

Duncan had lain awake the entire night on the couch, hearing Oliver occasionally shout his name, and watching over and over against the backs of his eyelids the replay of Gin's wounded, terrified expression before she passed out.

For a while he considered dropping all his plans. He could call that Secret Service agent who'd given him his card, Decker was his name, and tell him the surgery was off. Or call Dr. VanDuyne and tell him to tell his patient, the president, to go to hell and find another surgeon to fix his goddamn eyelids.

But after all he'd gone through, he couldn't allow himself such a luxury. Not after what he'd done to Gin. Unconscionable, but he'd done it for a cause. To fail to follow through would mean he'd made her suffer for nothing. And that would be monstrous.

That was why he was driving to the surgicenter at 4, 3O A. M. , half an hour earlier than planned. Oliver was still locked in the basement at home. As soon as the president left for Camp David, hopefully carrying an implant in his thigh, Duncan would return and release Oliver. What happened after that would be up to his younger brother.

Possibly he could convince Oliver to keep quiet. He'd return the remaining TPD and swear he'd done nothing to the president. He'd say he'd suffered through a period of aberrant behavior but he was better now, and he was going into therapy. He'd profess to know nothing of Gin's condition, and swear again that he'd gone looking for her last night but had been unable to find her. Oliver would suspect, but he couldn't know. After all, Gin had removed the implant, Oliver had seen it himself. And if Duncan could convince him that he was on the straight and narrow from now on, that they should put all this behind them, Oliver might go along.

Probably.

Hopefully.

After all, if the affair were made public, Duncan's opprobrium would attach to Oliver, and to Oliver's implants. His invention would be forever tainted by its misuse with harmful intent. The FDA might even hold up its approval.

Oliver will keep his peace, Duncan told himself. What harms me harms his implants. And he knows the good they can do will far outweigh the harm I've done.

He unlocked the private entrance and walked inside. He went to the keypad to disable the alarm and found it already off. Damn it.

Barbara had forgotten again to set it before she left. If she weren't such a good secretary . . .

He'd deal with her next week. Right now he had other concerns. The advance team from the Secret Service would be arriving in about half an hour to secure the building.

Plenty of time to fill an implant with TPD.

He turned on the inside hall lights and outside spots, then went to his office. He froze when he turned on his office lights and saw the books, journals, and papers scattered across the floor. The office was a shambles. Someone had broken in and torn it apart. Why? What could they be looking for?

The TPD?

He leapt to his desk. He groaned when he saw the splintered drawer.

It looked as if someone had taken a hammer to it and smashed it open.

He rifled through the contents. The TPD vial was gone. So was the trocar.

No!

His heart tore into overdrive. He hurried back into the hall and stood looking up and down its length. Somebody had found the TPD and stolen it.

But who? Oliver was locked up and Gin was in an emergency room somewhere. Who else knew about, ?

Duncan whirled as he heard a faint noise, like a chair being moved. It had come from down the hall. He saw that the door to the lower level was open.

From downstairs? Who would be down in the records room or, Oliver's lab!

Moving as quietly as possible, Duncan hurried along the hall and tiptoed down the stairs. At the bottom he saw light flooding out from the open door to Oliver's lab. And noises from within. Oliver must have escaped'from the basement. Gin had told him where the TPD was hidden and now he was here disposing of it.

Discarding all caution, Duncan raced forward to the door.

"Oh, ! " The word clogged in his throat, shutting off his air. He couldn't breathe.

A pale, disheveled woman in a swearer and sweatpants, with wild-looking dark hair, stood at the counter, the vial of TPD in her hand. She looked up. Her wide, shocked eyes spit dark fire at him.

He found his voice. "Gin! " As she raised her arm to hurl the vial at him, Duncan lunged for her, catching her arm before she completed the motion. She screamed, scratching his face with her nails and beating at him with her free hand as he tried to pry the vial from her fingers.

Lord, she was strong, like an angry tigress, but he fended her off and finally managed to get the vial away from her. And then she attacked him with both hands, screeching incoherently through her clenched teeth. She was a banshee, a female berserker. Was this what the TPD had done to her?

And then she broke away from him and darted toward the door. He caught her arm and swung her around against the counter, then slammed the door closed and leaned his back against it.

He faced her, staring at her as she stared at him, both panting.

"You bastard! " she screamed, as tears started in her eyes. "You rotten filthy son of a bitch! How could you do that to . . .

me? With that, she folded her arms on the counter, lowered her head onto them, and began to sob.

Duncan was dumbfounded. She seemed sane now. Upset, yes, but completely rational. But the implant . . . the TPD. Could the transducer have failed to dissolve it?

That had to be it. Low power, interference, whatever the reason, the ultrasound had failed.

Good Lord. What did he do now?

One thing was certain, He needed time to think. He turned to the door, found the lock, and twisted it. If nothing else that would slow her up if she tried to, He cried out as a cold, sharp stab of pain pierced The back of his thigh. He clutched at the spot and turned.

Gin stood directly behind him, facing him, the trocar clutched in her hand like a dagger.

Duncan's blood froze. He snatched the trocar from her.

"No! You didn't! Gin, you didn't " She nodded slowly, her eyes wild, a slow smile spreading across her face.

Over her shoulder Duncan spotted a tray on the counter with three implants and a syringe. He touched the back of his leg again and checked his lingers.

Blood.

His sick fear was overcome by a flash of anger. But as he stepped toward Gin she raised her other hand. Her fingers were wrapped around the transducer handle of the tabletop ultrasound Oliver used in his experiments on the membranes.

Duncan slammed himself back against the door.

"No, Gin! " He'd wanted to shout the words but they came out in a hoarse whisper. "Please . . . don't! " "Why not? " she said, still smiling crazily.

The wild look in her eyes terrified him to the very core of his being.

She was teetering on the edge. One wrong word, one wrong move, and she'd slip completely out of control.

"Why trot? " she repeated. "You wanted to do it to me." '"No, Gin.

That was the last thing I wanted. I had no choice. I, " "Spare me the lies! " she said, jabbing the transducer at him. "I passed out last night because I was sick and scared and weak. But you thought it was the TPD hitting my system. You tried to fry my brain last night, Duncan. And you came damn close. If my fingertip hadn't happened to brush against that second implant while I was digging out the first, I'd be in the lockup ward at D. C. General right now. As it was, I came to and got out of my apartment just before the ambulance arrived.

" "That should be proof that I didn't want to harm you. I called that ambulance." '"Right. After you gave me an ultrasonic zap." She moved closer and Duncan edged away to his right. He didn't dare make a grab for the handle. Her thumb was on the power button. A little pressure on that and the implant in his leg would dissolve, after which his mind would quickly follow suit. He had to keep her talking.

"You don't understand, " he said, continuing to edge away. "Oliver told me you'd removed both. I only came, " '"Oliver didn't know that!

He only saw the one in the bottle, the second one. The first one fell into the tub and - broke and washed down the drain." , , He kept moving, inches at a time He would have loved to put the counter between them, but she was following his every move, waving that transducer at him.

"Gin . . . " "How could you do that to me, Duncan? How could you try to ruin my life like that? You might as well have put a gun to my head. I trusted you, Duncan! " His heart started hammering as he saw the fury begin to mount in her eyes. He looked around for a weapon, a way out, anything, but he was trapped. He'd have to stop backing away and go after her, have to risk grappling with her.

- And then he spotted his salvation, not two feet away. He averted his eyes. Couldn't let her see him looking at it. If he could reach it before she blew . . .

"And I trusted you, Gin, " he said, hoping to buy some time if he could put her on the defensive. "I gave you a job, gave you the keys to my building, and what did you do? You picked the lock on my desk drawer and invaded my privacy." The anger in her eyes receded, but only a short way.

'"How did you find that out? " He was close now, almost within easy reach. If he could get his hand up . . .

"You left a piece of your lock pick behind." He raised his right hand with the thumb and index finger an eighth of an inch apart. "Just a tiny, " He darted his hand to the right, grabbed the power cord to the ultrasound unit, and yanked it from the wall, leaving Gin holding an inert piece of metal. Duncan slumped against the counter. Lord, that had been close He held out his hand. "Give it to me, Gin. It's useless now."

"Don't count on it! " She reared back and threw it at his face.

Duncan twisted away and ducked, but not in time to avoid it completely.

The transducer handle thudded painfully against his skull. By the time he straightened, shook off the pain, and looked around, Gin had unlocked the door and was pulling it open. She was out and gone before he could grab her.

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Duncan gave chase, limping after her as she headed for the stairs.

Gin gasped for breath as she pounded up the steps. She'd taken the rest of the antibiotic she got from Oliver, but she was still sick, still weak. She wasn't going to outdistance Duncan for long.

She reached the first floor and broke into a run down the hall, Right into the arms of three men in suits.

"What the hell's going on here? " said the tall, dark one in the middle, as the one to his right, the one she'd bumped into, grabbed her upper arm and held it. His fingers felt like steel. She might as well have been manacled to him.

'"Agent Decker! " said Duncan's voice behind her. "Thank God you came early! I found this young woman here when I arrived. Apparently she broke in sometime during the night." He held up the trocar. "She just stabbed me with this." She twisted around and saw Duncan standing in the doorway to the basement, panting.

"I just did to him what he was going to do to the president today.

"Whoa, " said the-tall, dark one Duncan had called Agent Decker. "Hang on there, ma'am, " '"She's deranged, ' Duncan said, moving closer.

"She's had a complete break with reality."

"That's not true! " Gin cried. "I work here! I'm a doctor. And he's planning to kill the president today." That was an overstatement, but she needed to get their attention. And now she had it.

'"Yes, she used to work here, Agent Decker, " Duncan said quickly.

"We've noticed erratic behavior lately and we've been trying to arrange psychiatric help. Unfortunately, she decompensated before we were able to finalize those arrangements.

"What's your name, ma'am? " said Decker.

'"Dr. Gin Panzella. I'm a board-eligible internist, and I'm as sane as you are. ' She launched into an account of the mishaps that had befallen former members of the Guidelines committee who happened to be Duncan's patients, but Duncan interrupted her after a few sentences.

- "Agent Decker, do we have to listen to these ravings?

Check with the FBI. Just last week she led them on a wildgoose chase with some story of my implanting some poison in Senator Marsden. ' "Wait, " Gin said. "Don't listen to him. He pulled a reverse on that one." Duncan shook his head sadly as he stared at her. God, the bastard was a good actor. A regular Jack Nicholson. You'd almost think he truly felt sorry for a former colleague's deteriorating mental condition.

"After a full medical exam on the senator, " Duncan said, "including an MR scan, they found nothing and ended up looking like fools. You can check it out."

"Trust me, " Decker said. "We will check it out. We check everything out."

"Good. The name of-the agent in charge of that particular boondoggle was Canney. I'm sure he rues the day he was conned into believing Dr. Panzella."

"Canney? " Decker said.

"Yeah. I'll give him a call."

"Come on! " Gin said. "You've got to listen to me! " ' We listen to everybody, " Decker said. He turned to the man who was holding her.

"You and Briggs take her owntown and get her statement. I'm going to get in touch rith Mallard and see if we can put this deal off for a while. I on't like the smell of this.

Don't like it at all."

"Thank you, God! " Gin said as they started leading her toward the rear of the building. "I don't care if you believe eye or not, just don't let the president come here today." Decker looked at her with new interest as he opened the loot to the parking lot. "That's not always our decision, ma'am. So, you know Gerry Canney, do you? " He knew Gerry's first name! "Yes! Since high school. Do you? " "We've met. Are you the one who told him about the "-esident's surgery? " "That's me! You're the one he called? " Decker didn't answer that.

He was staring at the car that had just pulled into the rear lot.

A long night. A bad night. Gerry hadn't had a wink of sleep SlnCC 6

A. M.

yesterday morning. He was tired, his stomaching was on fire, and he was generally pissed.

After leaving the Tremont Hotel last night he'd been unable to had a trace of Gin. The only action he'd had was the 91 I call to her apartment that turned out to be a false -'arm. Nobody home when the ambulance got there, but the _oor had been wide open.

Something strange and ominous about that call. Something going on that he couldn't quite grasp. Something just uUt of reach. And it was that tantalizing closeness that had kept him running all night.

He hadn'r been able to stop, hadn't been able to drop it. He'd called Mrs. Snedecker and asked if Martha could stay overnight. Martha didn't mind. She liked sleeping over anywhere. Sometimes that worried him. He'd talked to her on the car phone, then kept driving, periodically stopping back at the Bureau building. He'd even spoken to Gin's parents. No, they hadn't heard from her. He hoped they were telling him the truth and he hadn't been patrolling the whole damn northwest all night for nothing.

He'd just made another stop at Gina's apartment. Still empty. And now, for the third time tonight, or this morning7 rather, since the sun was threatening to rise, he was checking out Lathram's building.

He pulled into the rear lot and was startled to find three cars there, two of them Federal, according to their plates. As he parked and got out of his car, he saw a very grim-looking Gin being escorted from the building by three guys in suits.

Weak with relief, he leaned back against the car. Thank God!

At least she was alive, though not looking too well. And the three with her, had to be Secret Service. Bob Decker was one of them.

Secret Service . . . the president's surgery. Shit. If she'd been right about that, what else had she been right about?

He slammed the car door behind him. God damn it!

Gin's face broke into a smile. "Gerry! " "Speak of the devil, " Decker said, "we were just, " "You son of a bitch! " Gerry shouted as he strode toward them. "Son of a bitch! " The two other agents with Decker pulled back and their hands started drifting toward their jackets.

"It's okay, " Decker said. "I know him. A Fibby."

"Gin, " Gerry said, "are you okay? " She beamed at him. "I am now."

She looked so small and fragile between them. Gerry wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she'd be all right, but now wasn't the time, not in this place, not in this company.

He turned to Decker. "You told me you knew nothing about any surgery on the president, yet here you are at Lathram's surgicenter at five in the morning. You want to explain that, pal? " Decker shrugged. "The Man says he doesn't want anyone told, no one gets told."

"This could have ended up a disaster, you know." '"You mean if we'd let this young lady run loose in there? " "No, I mean if she hadn't found her way here."

"Gerry! " Gin said, her eyes wide. "You mean you believe >, , me!

'"I don't know exactly what I believe, but I know there's enough fishy stuff connected with Dr. Lathram that you shouldn't let him come within a couple of miles of the president." Decker's bantering manner was gone. "He told us this little lady led you and the Bureau on a wild-goose chase last week."

"It was a wild-goose chase, all right, but I'm not so sure anymore who was leading us." '"And the doc inside says she stabbed him."

"With the trocar, " Gin said. "The same one he used on me. The one he was going to use on the president." Gerry winced at the way that sounded. So far out. Who on earth would believe her?

Which worked perfectly to Lathrarn's advantage.

But what if he'd intended that all along?

'"My agents'll take her downtown and get a statement, " "No, wait! " Gin cried. "We can settle this all now. I know how. ' "Come on, miss, " said the red-haired agent holding her, and began guiding her toward the car.

Gerry put a hand on his chest. "Give her a minute. Let's hear her out.

Maybe if I'd done that a while back, the five of us might be home in bed instead of standing here at this ungodly hour." She'd been right about the president's surgery. What else had she been right about?

The grateful look Gin gave him more than made up for all these sleepless hours.

"All right, " Decker said. "Five minutes, then she's on her way.

Duncan couldn't imagine how things could get much worse, but assumed they probably would.

As he watched the Secret Service agents escort Gin to the parking lot, he discarded all plans of making further use of the TPD. Damage control was the immediate and most pressing concern.

And the first, all-important task was to dispose of the TPD.

Duncan pulled the vial from his pocket and hurried back downstairs to Oliver's lab. He placed it in the utility sink, covered it with a paper towel, and smashed it into tiny fragments. He ran water into the sink for a while, then dumped the remaining glass shards from the strainer into the soggy paper towel. He rinsed the syringe Gin had used, running acetone through the barrel and the needle to destroy any trace of TPD.

Then he simply dropped it in the sharps receptacle with all the other used syringes.

He left the water running while he went back upstairs to the men's room and flushed the remnants of the vial, its label, and the paper towel into the Chevy Chase sewer system .

And that was that. TPD? I don't know what she's talking about.

Search the place. Be my guest.

The last remaining sample of the compound was nestled in his thigh.

That was a truly horrifying thought. Imaginulg what would happen to him if it ruptured before he could have it removed broke him out in a sweat.

He'd have to be very careful for the next few hours. And by this afternoon, when everything settled down, he'd have the implant removed.

Any one of his many friends among the surgeons of the area would take care of that on a moment's notice.

He rinsed his hands. As he dried them he stared at himself in the mirror.

It's over, he thought. Maybe you accomplished something by disrupting the Guidelines committee, maybe you didn't. At least Lisa is avenged.

Any regrets?

Only having to act against Gin. And having to pass up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike against that wampus in the White House.

He sighed. But a man had to know when to quit. And that time was now.

He dried his hands and stepped back into the hall.

"Dr. Lathram." It was Agent Decker's voice.

He turned and saw a small crowd approaching him. Gin, The three Secret Service men, and a fourth man. Canney, the FBI man. What was he doing here?

"Can we go downstairs? " Decker said. 4We're trying to dear up a few things here and I wonder if you could help us." Duncan didn't like the sound of that, and he didn't like the predatory look in Gin's eyes.

For an instant he considered calling a lawyer, but decided against it.

That would look suspicious and only draw things out.

He could handle these people.

* * * Gin listened as Agent Decker began talking. He was a cool character, seemed almost imperturbable. But his blue eyes never stopped moving.

This guy didn't miss a trick.

"Now Dr. Lathram, you stated earlier that Dr. Panzella stabbed you.

Are you willing to file assault charges? " Gin saw a look of relief flicker across Duncan's features.

"No. Absolutely not. She's nor herself. I don't want her jailed, I simply want her to receive the proper therapy." Gin clamped her jaws to keep from shouting. As planned, the red-haired agent, his name was Reilley, she'd learned, had positioned her on the far side of the lab bench. Gerry stood on the near side, partially blocking her from Duncan's Ylew.

Dear Gerry. She'd never been so glad to see anyone in her life as when he'd cruised into the parking lot this morning. He hadn't given up on her, hadn't written her off. He'd been up all night searching for her.

She'd wanted to throw her arms around him.

"That's very generous of you, ' Decker was saying, "but we're concerned about your safety. Dr. Panzella said she left some sort of poison pellet under your skin when she stabbed you."

"Ridiculous, " Duncan said. "It's part of her delusional system. She imagines I've been doing that to other people, including herself, so now she thinks she's done it to me. She needs therapy, gentlemen. And the sooner you get her to a facility that can care for her, the better." So damn glib, Gin thought as she quietly reinserted the plug of the ultrasound's power cord into the wall socket. The "silver-tongued devil" made flesh.

She pressed the ultrasound's power switch to ON. The red light began to glow.

'"Ready, " she whispered.

Gerry turned and winked at her as he picked up the transducer handle.

He turned back to Duncan and held it up where he could see it.

'"If that's true, Dr. Lathram, then I don't suppose you'd mind if I ran this over your leg." Gin saw Duncan's eyes widen, saw his gaze dart to the glowing power indicator on the machine. He spun and tried to flee, but Briggs was at the door, and Duncan wasn't getting past him.

"Keep that away from me! " he cried. "For God's sake, turn that thing off! " Decker glanced Gin's way and gave her a little nod of acknowledgment .

Triumph burned through the haze of her fatigue. Yes! Add one more to the believer list.

Decker's features hardened as he turned back to Duncan, but he didn't get a chance to speak. Gerry had taken over.

"Sit down, Dr. Lathram, " Gerry said, gesturing carelessly to a chair near the counter with the transducer.

"Please, " Duncan said. "Be careful with, " "Sit down! " Duncan sat. Gin watched admiringly as Gerry commanded the room.

'"Is there an implant filled with something called TPD in your leg? " "No." Gerry examined the transducer handle. "Then I guess there'd be no harm in my turning this thing on and, '' "All right! " Duncan cried.

"Yes! Yes, there is! There's an implant in my leg! " He was visibly trembling now. "Please put that thing away! " '"Just a couple more questions. Did you stick a similar implant in Senator Vincent's leg after you did plastic surgery on him? " "I don't have to answer that, " Duncan said.

"Of course you don't, ' Gerry said. He half turned to Gin and pointed to the ON button on the handle. "Is this the one that makes it work?

" "Yes! " Duncan shouted. "Yes, I did! " He said it! Thank God!

"And how about Lane and Allard and Schulz? " "Yes, yes, yes! " He was on his feet, backing away, his voice rising toward a scream. "Are you satisfied? Yes, goddammit! Now turn that thing off! " "I've heard enough, " Decker said.

"So have I," said Gerry. He placed the handle in its cradle on the ultrasound machine.

It's over, Gin thought, sagging against the counter. Over at last.

Decker turned to the agent next to Gin and pointed to Duncan.

"Reilley, why don't you keep Dr. Lathram company. Everybody else stay right where they are for the moment. I'm going upstairs to make some calls." Gerry stretched his hand across the counter to her. Weak with relief, she clutched it.

"How's it going? he said.

"Much better, now that you're here." He stared into her eyes. "Tell me . . . back at the Tremont . . .

the blood in the bathroom . . . did you . . . ? " She nodded and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them he was looking away.

"You are incredible. And I'm sorry I doubted you." Those words were music. She took his hand in both of hers. "We were both being manipulated by a master. The important thing is you cared enough not to give up on me. That means the whole world to me." Gerry glanced over his shoulder at Duncan. "He doesn't look like a guy who's going down for two counts of second degree murder and a host of federal crimes. ' Gin saw what he meant Duncan looked cool and calm in his chair now that the ultrasound transducer had been put away. She began to move around the counter to get closer to him.

'"Where're you going? " Gerry said.

"I want a few words with my former boss." My former idol. She had to be careful here. She had something to say but she didn't want her feelings to get in the way. Just looking at him now made her want to burst into tears.

"Do you realize what you've become, Duncan? " He gazed up at her blandly. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"Ever since I came to Washington you've been talking to me about ethics and honesty and probity and how nobody in the government adheres to any moral and ethical standards. And you weren't far off the mark, unfortunately.

But I always assumed you were speaking from higher ground. You weren't. During all that talk you were desecrating your oath as a physician. I know those men hurt you, and they may well have been the crooks, cheats, venal, low-rent, bloodsucking leeches on the public trust you said they were, but that doesn't matter. They came to you as a doctor and you accepted them as patients. They were counting on you being better than they were. That's a sacred trust, primum non nocere, and you defiled it." She noticed Decker slipping back into the room, but he didn't interrupt her. Good. She wasn't finished yet.

"I know what you used to be, Duncan, who you used to be, and I admired that person like no one else in the world. But you became exactly like the people you detest so much, the end justifies the means, anything goes. Look what you tried to do to me." She realized how angry she was becoming. She had to shut up before she exploded. "You be the enemy, Duncan. And you're going to pay for it." - '"Maybe, " he said softly. "And maybe not."

"Don't kid yourself, ' she said, feeling her fury escalating. "You just confessed in front of a roomful of people." He smiled at her.

"Whatever statements I made were coerced from me, elicited under threats of damage." He looked around at the four government agents.

"Ask any of these gentlemen if they think one word of what I said here will ever be admissible in court." Gin looked around. No one had to say anything. Gerry's eyes spoke volumes.

Something snapped inside her. "You mean he's going free? " Gerry started to say something but Gin didn't hear it. All the pain, all the anguish, the terror, the self-doubt, the betrayal, and Duncan was going to walk!

She turned, grabbed the ultrasound handle, thumbed the power button, and slammed it against Duncan's leg.

'"Walk away from that! " Duncan screamed "NO! " and clutched at his thigh. "Oh, God, NO! " The lab was suddenly bedlam, Reilley pushed her away from Duncan, Gerry pulled the handle from her hand, while Decker was saying, "Jesus H.

Christ! Gerry, get her the hell out of here! " Gerry grasped both her upper arms from behind and gently but firmly propelled her toward the door, guiding her past Duncan, who was now bent double as he clawed at his thigh, whimpering and moaning, "Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no, please, God, no-oh-no-oh-no! " And then they were in the narrow passageway outside the lab. Gerry shut the door behind them and turned her around to face him.

"My God, Gin! I can't believe you did that."

"I want him to be as frightened as I was. I want him to know what it feels like to be utterly terrified."

"I can appreciate that. Look, know what he tried to do to you, but after all you just said, I never thought . . . " He ran out of words and stared at her. "Why are you smiling? " She truly loved this man's sense of decency.

"I guess I forgot to mention that Duncan's implant was empty."

" Empty? " She nodded. "Right. He burst in on me before I had a chance to fill it, so I stuck him with an empty one." She watched Gerry's expression slacken, then saw his lips turn up at the corners.

A second later he was shaking his head and grinning.

"I love it. Give him a taste of his own medicine, or let him think that's what he's getting." He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you call? " "I didn't think you'd believe me." Suddenly she felt weak and shaky.

"Can we sit down? " He guided her to one of the chairs in the lounge area and pulled another up close beside her. He slipped a protective arm over her shoulders.

"That will never happen again, Gin. I'll always believe you. I swear."

"Good. Hopefully I'll never again be in a situation like this."

"That makes two of us. Three of us, counting Martha. She's missed you." He leaned closer. "I think this morning will square me with the Bureau.

Which means I'll probably be moving up. I'm thinking of moving Martha away from the District. How about you? Still itching to work on the Hill? " Gin shook her head. "I've had it with this place. I think I'm going to look for a practice in a nice little town where only things are for sale, not people."

"Great." His eyes held hers.

"Maybe you could pick one with an FBI office nearby. How's that sound?

' "That sounds nice, " she said softly.

The lab door opened behind them. Briggs stepped out and walked past, heading for the stairs. He gave Gin a wary look. As the door swung closed again, Gin heard Duncan's voice.

"You've got to get me to a hospital! Now! Not later! This is an emergency! " And then the door clicked shut.

"How long before we tell him? " Gerry said.

"Tell him? " Gin said. "I'm not going to tell him. He'll figure it out sooner or later. Let the bastard stew till then." Gerry laughed.

"Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you." She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. "Believe that, buster. Don't ever forget it."

They kissed.