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Gideon was both relieved and alarmed at how effective Blaine’s plan had been at drawing off security from the lab where the smallpox was kept. With his temporary photo badge on prominent display, he had not been challenged by any of the—very few—technicians or scientists wandering about the building. The only obvious signs of security were ubiquitous cameras that peered down from the ceilings everywhere, no doubt videotaping his every movement. Were there people on the other end of the camera feeds, watching him? Under the present circumstances, Gideon doubted it. Blaine’s strategy seemed to have been brilliantly effective.

After a few wrong turns, he found his way to the entrance of the Level 4 facility. Here, a stainless-steel door sported a dramatic, multicolored biohazard symbol, along with dire warnings in a dozen languages.

He peered through the door’s tiny glass window and saw that it led, not directly into the facility, but into a sort of ready room. At the far end, he could make out an air lock and the decontamination shower that led into the facility itself. Light blue biosafety suits hung on racks, ordered by size. On one side of the room was a small staging area, with equipment, disused bioreactors, stacks of petri dishes, culture disks, and other supplies and equipment apparently on their way in or out of the lab.

He tried the door, found it unlocked, and entered the ready room. The far door leading into the air lock and shower sported its own biohazard symbol, and this was where the additional layers of security began: there was not only a keypad entry, but a card reader and retinal scanner as well. Once again, the ceiling was festooned with cameras. Good—everything would be recorded. He was going to need that when the time came for investigators to sort everything out.

He crossed the room and examined the scanner. This was a serious problem. Social engineering might get him past the keypad and card, but not past the retinal scanner.

Quickly, Gideon reevaluated his options. It seemed he could not surprise Blaine inside the Level 4 lab itself. That was unfortunate, and it meant undertaking a greater risk. He would have to apprehend Blaine exiting the lab with the smallpox.

He stood in the ready room, thinking. In some ways, however, this made for a better ambush situation. Blaine would go in, get the smallpox, and Gideon would surprise the man as he emerged from the decontamination shower. That was where Blaine would be most vulnerable, least suspecting an attack. And if Gideon donned a bluesuit himself, it would make an excellent disguise.

He glanced around the ready room. There were several changing rooms leading off from it, perfect places to lie in wait.

He rifled through the bluesuits, selected one his size, and brought it into a changing room, leaving the door ajar so he could keep tabs on who came in and out. He checked his disposable cell phone: one bar still. That had been his only real worry—that there would be no cell reception down here to receive Fordyce’s call.

As he began donning the bluesuit, he heard the ready room door open and saw two people enter; Blaine and an officer in cammos. He quickly turned his back on them, surprised and chagrined that he hadn’t heard from Fordyce. Thank God they hadn’t walked in a few minutes earlier.

Surreptitiously, he observed the two; the military man was a captain, judging from the bars on his insignia patch, packing a 9mm pistol. He appeared to be a young Hispanic, good looking, of medium height, with jet-black hair and jutting cheekbones.

Gideon quickly pulled on the hood of his bluesuit, covering his face. They had casually glanced at him through the partially open door to the dressing room, noting his presence, but without apparent concern. Now the two began suiting up in silence, working fast, wasting no time. A moment later the captain swiped a card through the reader in the far door, punched in a code, and paused to be read by the retinal scanner. A light turned green; he donned his own hood, and a moment later they had stepped into the air lock to the shower, the door sealing with a rush of air.

Gideon removed his Colt Python, checked to make sure all the chambers had rounds, and settled down to wait.

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