Kaplan sighed and resumed leaning against the wall. “Not my lucky day,” he murmured.

As the victim’s hands had now been examined for evidence, Nitsche brought over an inkpad for fingerprinting. The body, however, had achieved full rigor since being found and the stiff fingers refused to cooperate.

Dr. Corben moved up to assist her. He worked the first joint of the girl’s index finger until with a faint popping sound, the rigor broke. Nitsche started inking, and Dr. Corben methodically worked his way through both hands, each popping sound echoing faintly in the cold tile room and bringing up bile in the back of Kimberly’s throat.

I will not be sick, she promised herself. And then-Oh God, this is only the external exam.

Fingerprinting done, Dr. Corben moved down the body to between the girl’s-the deceased’s-legs. While the condition of her clothing had been inconsistent with rape, he still had to examine the body itself.

“No bruising of the inner thighs, no lacerations of the labia majora or labia minora,” Dr. Corben reported. He combed the pubic hair and Nitsche collected the loose strands in another bag. Then he picked up three swabs.

Now Kimberly had to look away. The young girl was dead. Far beyond insult or injury. But Kimberly couldn’t watch. Her fingers were knotted, her breathing shallow. She was once more aware of the strong smell of the room, and the feel of sweat on her back. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Kaplan was now intently studying the floor.

“From the external exam,” Dr. Corben concluded shortly, “there is no evidence of sexual assault. Now then, let’s get her cleaned up.”

Kimberly’s eyes flew open. Nitsche had just moved into position and she and Dr. Corben were now hosing down the body. Kimberly’s bewilderment must have shown on her face, because Dr. Corben spoke up above the spray of water: “After concluding the external exam, we wash the body before making the first incision. You don’t want factors from the outside-dirt, fiber, debris-contaminating the internal organs and confusing your findings. The outside had its stories to tell. Now, it’s the inside’s turn.”

Dr. Corben matter-of-factly turned off the hose, passed out plastic goggles, and picked up a scalpel.

Kimberly went green. She was trying hard. She had seen crime-scene photos, dammit. She wasn’t a novice to violent death.

But she felt herself sway on her feet anyway. She told herself to hold it together, but then she looked at the young girl’s face, and that did it completely.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, “what is in her mouth?”

It was there, unmistakable now, the shadow of the thing Dr. Corben had sensed earlier. First the girl’s left cheek bulged, pale and waxy. Then with dazzling speed, her right cheek went, until it looked like she was puffing up her mouth while staring at them with her dead brown eyes.

Kaplan was fumbling with his holster. Kimberly was fumbling, too. He brought out a gun. She brought out a red plastic toy. Shit, damn. She dropped down to her ankle, without ever taking her gaze off the girl’s face.

“Stand back,” Kaplan said.

Dr. Corben and his attendant needed no urging. Nitsche’s gaze was wide and fascinated. Dr. Corben had that pale tight look from earlier in the day. “It could be gases from decomp,” he tried vainly. “She was out in intense heat.”

“The body just achieved full rigor. It’s not that far along,” Kaplan muttered tightly.

The cheeks bulged again. Moved from side to side.

“I think…” Kimberly’s voice came out too faintly. She licked her lips, tried again. “I think there’s something in there. In her mouth. That’s why he stitched it shut.”

“Holy shit!” Nitsche said with awe.

“Mother of God,” Kaplan murmured.

Kimberly stared at Dr. Corben. His right hand was shaking badly. She was pretty sure nothing like this had ever happened in one of his postmortems before. The look on his face said he’d retire before letting it happen again. “Sir,” she said as calmly as she could, “you have the scalpel. You need… You need to cut the stitching.”

“I will not!”

“Whatever’s in there has gotta come out. It’s better on our terms than its.”

Kaplan was nodding slowly. “She has a point. We need to do the autopsy. So whatever’s there, needs to go.”

Dr. Corben looked at them both wildly. He definitely was thinking of an argument. He definitely wanted to argue. But then his scientific mind seemed to reassert itself. He glanced at the body again, watched the horrible distortion of its face, and slowly, very slowly, nodded.

“Eye gear on,” he said at last. “Masks, gloves. Whatever it is, I want us to be prepared.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “Gina, stand next to the special agent.”

Nitsche moved hastily behind Kaplan’s large build. Kimberly straightened up and worked on her own composure. Knees slightly bent, legs ready to move. She put on her goggles, her Crayola long since discarded on the floor, and her favorite hunting knife now in her hand.

Dr. Corben moved gingerly. He got just close enough to be able to touch the girl’s stitched-up mouth with his scalpel, without his body being in the line of fire for Kaplan’s gun.

“On the count of three,” Dr. Corben said tightly. “One. Two. Three.”

The scalpel went slash, slash. Dr. Corben fell back from the body, his feet already scrambling. And a dark, mottled shape exploded from its unwanted prison and hurtled halfway across the tiled floor.

One moment Kimberly was alone in her corner of the room. The next, she saw the unmistakable, brown-splotched shape of a coiled rattler. The viper reared up with an ominous hiss.

Kaplan’s Glock exploded in the tiny room, and Kimberly hurled her knife.

Quantico, Virginia

5:14 P . M .

Temperature: 97 degrees

MAC WAS STANDING OUTSIDE A CLASSROOM asking Genny if she happened to know of a good botanist in the state of Virginia, when the blurred form of a blue-clad figure came roaring down the hall. The next instant, he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder, just had time to look up in surprise, and promptly got whacked again by his favorite new agent.

“You did not say anything about snakes!” Kimberly Quincy swung a solid right; he barely dodged left. “You did not say anything about leaving live vipers in their mouths!” She followed with a jab to the ribs; he fell back three steps. For a tiny thing, she really could hit.

“You lying, manipulating, cold-hearted bastard!” She took a good wind-up and he came to his senses just in time to block the blow, twist her arm behind her back, and turn her into the solid restraint of his body. She, of course, tried to flip him over her back.

“Sugar,” he murmured in her ear. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but maybe you’d like to wait ’til we’re alone.”

He felt the outrage scream through her stiffened frame, but then his words must’ve penetrated. She seemed to become aware of their surroundings. For example, as students generally didn’t assault other students in the halls of the Academy, she now had everyone’s full attention. Genny’s gaze was most amused. She had it locked on Mac’s face with blatantly unconcealed interest.

“Just practicing a little drill,” Mac drawled out loud. “You know, always happy to help out a new agent.” He gingerly released Kimberly’s arm. She didn’t hit him, or stomp on his foot, so he figured he was making some progress. “Now then, darlin’, why don’t we go outside where we can discuss other ways for ambushing a possible suspect?”

He hightailed it for the double doors. After another awkward moment, Kimberly scrambled after him. She managed to make it all the way around the corner of the building to a somewhat isolated flagstone patio before she went after him again.