F Wilson - Implant

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.