Life Blood---XXII---Page No 72

"It's a special time here." His gaze shifted to the ceiling. "In
fact, it's supposed to take place in three days, but the Army has
informed me it has to be two days from now. That's the day they
rotate the troops here, so there'll be double strength."

"But why do they need—"

"Things can get a bit frenzied." He smiled, though he seemed to be embarrassed. "However, the people will love the fact you're here to share it with them."

Did he say "frenzied"? My mind immediately flashed on the
Aztec rituals of ripping out beating hearts. But the Maya didn't go
to that extreme, at least so far as I knew. Once again, though, I
had the feeling I was only hearing what he wanted me to know,
not the whole truth. It felt like a chess game where I didn't know
the location of all the pieces or how they could move.

"Tell you what." He was getting up, turning toward the hall. "Why don't you let me show you around the clinic? In fact, I'm scheduled to perform an in vitro this morning for a childless
couple here. You're free to see it. Perhaps that could help you make your own decision."

"Well . . . do you have a phone? I need to make some calls." Would he let me call out? That would be a first test of what his intentions were. It was all getting so insidious. I had Sarah to worry about, and the Army, and now some kind of "ceremony" that he'd managed to stay cannily vague about. I only knew I wanted the whole world to know where I was.

"Of course," he said. "You're welcome to use my office." He
was pointing down the hall. "It's right this way."
        Yes! Maybe I'm not completely his prisoner yet. I still have
privileges. But I'd damned well better use them while I can.
        I walked out and felt a breeze, and then I studied the far end
of the hallway, at the opposite end from the entrance, and noticed
huge slatted windows. As we walked in their direction, I realized
there was a stairway on one side, at the end of the hall, leading
up to the second story of the building.

"What's up there?"

"Hygenic nursery rooms." He glanced at the stairs. "Unlike

U.S. practice, new mothers here aren't sent home after a day or
two. Women and their newborns are encouraged to stay here at
the clinic for at least a week. It's actually very much a part of their
tradition, a period of bonding. You're welcome to visit with them
later if you like."

I intended to. In fact, I found myself looking around and trying
to memorize everything about the place. A two-story building, a
marble stair, a nursery upstairs, downstairs rooms along either
side of the hallway (what was in them?), and an office I was about
to see. Could the clinic be locked down? What were the escape
routes? How closely was the Army watching? The time would

come, I was sure, when I'd need every scrap of intelligence I could collect.

When we reached the end of the hall, the fresh cool wind still
blowing against my face, he stopped in front of a large, ornate
wooden door with a brass knob in the very center. There was no
sign of a lock, just a sense of great gravity about its purpose.

"The phone's in here." He pushed the door and it slowly

swung inward on hinges that must have required ball bearings.
        It was indeed an office, dimly lighted by the moving screen-
savers of two computers, each on a separate desk. He flicked on
the overhead lights and I noticed that one computer was hooked
to a fax machine, the other to a separate printer. An impressive
assembly of data-management technology for out here in the rain
forest.

Then I focused on the central desk, on which sat an open,

briefcase-looking box containing a mini-console labeled Magellan World Phone. A small satellite dish was bolted down next to it.
        "It uplinks to the Inmarsat Series 3 geostationary satellites."
He indicated the dish. "But it works like a regular phone. The
international codes all apply." Then he turned to leave. "I should be ready for the procedure in a few minutes."

I picked up the handset and flicked it on. Three green diodes flashed, then two yellow ones, after which a white light came on and I heard a continuous hum, a dial tone.

Hooray. But was his satellite phone tapped? Why would he let
me just call out? Was this a feint in our game of cat-and-mouse,
just to lull me into believing everything here was safe and benign?
Remembering Sarah's drug experience, I already knew that
couldn't be true. For now, though, I had to get an SOS out while I
had the chance.

I'd long since memorized the number of Steve's hotel in

Belize City, and if I could reach him, he could go the embassy in Guatemala City and . . . I wasn't sure what. I still hoped to get out of here on my own, but if that failed . . . maybe some of those
sturdy Marines . . .