Life Blood---XXIV---Page No 87

"I'm not hopeful." I paused. "Listen, can you get your hands on a gun or guns?"

"What are you . . . Don't even think about it! That's the best
way to guarantee we all get killed. I'm not taking on the
Guatemalan Armed Forces. And you're not either. We've got to
keep this very low-tech. The dark and the rain, that's what we use. They don't shoot back."

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to shoot Alex Goddard. I'd have done it if I'd had the chance. Happily. But I knew Steve was right.

"Okay, look, what time?"

"We'll try to set down about, say—"

There was a crackle as the yellow diodes on the phone

erupted in a high-pitched whistle, cutting the connection.

No! My God, had somebody been listening in?

So when exactly was he coming? Around dark? That would
probably be about eight o'clock. Or maybe nine . . .
        I was closing the phone case when I heard a sound from
outside, as though someone had passed the door, then come
back to listen.

All right. Get going.

I gathered the printouts, then headed back through the

laboratory, where I took a long, last look at the petri dishes being incubated. Should I just dump them now? But then he'd know for sure that I knew.

The time would come, and soon.

As I eased myself back into the fake-stone OR and closed the
door, the dawn outside was steeped in forest sounds, clacks and
whistles and chirps. That was good, because I needed some stray
noise to mask what I was going to do next. Take control.