"Good news,' Kurt said when Paul came on the line. "The women have returned to base on their own accord." "Excellent!" Paul said. "Good work!"

"Thank you, sir," Kurt said. He was willing to take credit if Paul was willing to offer it.

"Handle the women, then we'll face the Wingate problem,' Paul said. "Call me when you are free!"

"Yes, sir,' Kurt said. Like a conditioned Pavlov dog Kurt felt the almost irresistible urge to salute.

THIS IS NOT WHAT I SUSPECTED, DEBORAH SAID.

"I didn't know what to suspect," Joanna said.

The women were sitting in the car in the Wingate Clinic's parking area. The vehicle was pointing toward the butt end of the building's south wing with its engine still running. The parking spot was slightly east, affording a view along the building's rear. All the second-story windows of the rear of the wing were ablaze with light.

"The whole lab is lit up," Deborah said. "I thought the place would be like a graveyard after hours. I wonder if they are working around the clock."

"In a way it makes sense," Joanna said. "If things are going on out here they don't want people to know about, it would be best for them to be happening when the crowds of clinic patients aren't here."

"I guess,' Deborah said.

"Well, what are we going to do?"

Before Deborah could respond, both women saw car lights appear at the base of the driveway and start up.

"Uh-oh," Deborah said. "Here comes company!"

"What should we do?" Joanna demanded in a minor panic.

"Stay calm for one thing!" Deborah said. "I don't think we should do anything for the moment other than scrunch down as best we can."

BRUNO SAW THE CAR HE KNEW TO BE THE WOMEN'S EVEN before he could tell it was a Chevy Malibu. It was parked in a spot pointing toward the clinic entrance. What had caught his attention was that although the front lights were out, the brake lights were still on. Someone was sitting in the car with their foot on the brake.

As Bruno's black security van crested the lip of the parking area and his headlights strafed the car in question, he was able to make out the tops of two heads in the front seat. Bruno didn't even slow, much less stop. He continued across the parking area and descended the road on the other side as if he were on his way to the living quarters of the compound.

As soon as he knew he was out of sight, Bruno pulled to the side of the road, killed the headlights, turned off the engine, and jumped out. Dressed in black like Kurt, he was invisible in the darkness. He sprinted back up the road, then skirted the edge of the parking area. Within only a few minutes he had the Chevy Malibu in sight, and he could make out that the two women were still in the front seat.

"I'M A NERVOUS WRECK," JOANNA ADMITTED. "WHY DON'T we just leave? You admitted yourself that you didn't expect this place to be in operation like it is. Now we're bound to run into people if we go in there. What are we going to say?"

"Calm down!" Deborah ordered. "You're the one who insisted on coming along. That was only a van that passed by. It didn't stop; it didn't even slow down. Everything's cool."

"It's not cool,' Joanna said. "Now we're trespassing to add to our list of offenses. I think we should go."

"I'm not leaving until I have something concrete on this place,' Deborah said. "You can stay in the car if you want, but I'm going in, although first I'm putting on my sneakers."

Deborah opened the door and stepped out into the crisp night air. She went around to the trunk, got out her workout shoes, then returned inside the car.

"I just saw someone at one of the second-story windows," Joanna said nervously.

"Big deal," Deborah said. She pulled on her sneakers and laced them up. "This is going to look hilarious with this short skirt, but who cares?"

"I can't believe you're not worried about running into someone," Joanna said.

"Enough of this!" Deborah snapped. "Are you coming or not?"

"I'm coming," Joanna said reluctantly.

"What do you think we should take with us?"

"As little as possible," Joanna said. "Considering we might have to make a run for it. Maybe we should turn the car around so that at least we could get out of here fast if need be."

"I suppose that's not a bad idea," Deborah said.

She restarted the car, did a three-point turn, then backed back into the spot. "Happy?"

"Saying I was happy would be a gross exaggeration."

"Let's just take the flashlights, the access cards, and the disposable camera," Deborah said.

"Fine," Joanna said.

Deborah reached around and got the bag from the drugstore off the backseat. She gave one of the flashlights to Joanna and kept the other for herself, plus the disposable camera. "Ready?"

"I suppose," Joanna said without enthusiasm.

"Wait a minute," Deborah said. "I just got an idea."

Joanna rolled her eyes. If Deborah expected her to guess what was on her mind under the circumstances, she was insane.

"You don't want to know what my idea is?"

"Only if it's something like you think we should leave."

Deborah flashed Joanna an exasperated expression. "No, smart aleck! The first time we came out here to donate, we left our coats in a cloakroom. There were long white doctors' coats in there. I think we should borrow a couple. It will make us look more professional, especially me with this miniskirt."

Finally the women got out of the car and hurried up the walk. They were mildly surprised to find they needed an access card to get into the building, but like at the gate, the card worked fine. Inside they found the large reception area dark and deserted. They ducked into the cloakroom, and once the door was closed they turned on the lights.

Deborah's memory had served them well. There were plenty of white doctors' coats although few in small sizes. It took a few minutes to find two that were reasonably appropriate. They used the pockets for the flashlights, access cards, and disposable camera. Thus equipped, they turned out the light and reemerged into the reception area.

"I'll follow you," Joanna whispered.

Deborah nodded. She skirted the empty receptionist's desk and started down the darkened main corridor, passing the patients' changing room on the left, where a year and a half earlier they'd donned hospital johnnies prior to their egg-retrieval procedures. Deborah's destination was the first stairwell, and they made it without encountering anyone. The only noise they heard was their own footfalls.

Both breathed a sigh of relief once inside the stairwell. It felt safer than the open hallway, at least until they got down the three flights and opened the fire door into the dark, dank basement.

"No lights!" Deborah said. "It's a good thing we're prepared." She pulled out her flashlight and switched it on.

Joanna did the same, and the moment she shined it into the mausoleum-like basement hallway she caught her breath.

"What's the matter?" Deborah questioned.

"My God! Look at all the old, creepy hospital paraphernalia!" Joanna said. She shined the light over a profusion of disabled wooden wheelchairs, dented bedpans, and broken hospital furniture. An antiquated portable X-ray machine with a bulbous head stood out in Joanna's flashlight beam like a prop for an old Frankenstein movie.

"Didn't I mention this stuff?" Deborah asked.

"No!" Joanna said irritably.

"You don't have to get mad about it," Deborah said. "It seems that the whole rest of the building is filled with all sorts of gear from its previous mental-institution, TB-sanitarium days."

"It's spooky-looking," Joanna complained. "You could have at least prepared me for it."

"Sorry," Deborah said. "But Dr. Donaldson told us about it back when we first came out here. She said the place was a museum of sorts. Remember?"