"Now wasn't that easy?" Midge said with a sneeras Brinkerhoff handed over the key to Fontaine's office.

Brinkerhoff looked beaten.

"I'll erase it before I go," Midge promised."Unless you and your wife want it for your privatecollection."

"Just get the damned printout," he snapped. "Andthen get out!"

"Sí, señor," Midge cackled in a thick PuertoRican accent. She winked and headed across the suite toFontaine's double doors.

Leland Fontaine's private office looked nothing like therest of the directorial suite. There were no paintings, nooverstuffed chairs, no ficus plants, no antique clocks. His spacewas streamlined for efficiency. His glass-topped desk and blackleather chair sat directly in front of his enormous picture window.Three file cabinets stood in the corner next to a small table witha French press coffeepot. The moon had risen high over Fort Meade,and the soft light filtering through the window accentuated thestarkness of the director's furnishings.

What the hell am I doing? Brinkerhoff wondered.

Midge strode to the printer and scooped up the queue list. Shesquinted in the darkness. "I can't read the data,"she complained. "Turn on the lights."

"You're reading it outside. Now comeon."

But Midge was apparently having too much fun. She toyed withBrinkerhoff, walking to the window and angling the readout for abetter view.

"Midge…"

She kept reading.

Brinkerhoff shifted anxiously in the doorway. "Midge…come on. These are the director's private quarters."

"It's here somewhere," she muttered, studying theprintout. "Strathmore bypassed Gauntlet, I know it." Shemoved closer to the window.

Brinkerhoff began to sweat. Midge kept reading.

After a few moments, she gasped. "I knew it! Strathmore didit! He really did! The idiot!" She held up the paper and shookit. "He bypassed Gauntlet! Have a look!"

Brinkerhoff stared dumbfounded a moment and then raced acrossthe director's office. He crowded in next to Midge in front ofthe window. She pointed to the end of the readout.

Brinkerhoff read in disbelief. "What the…?"

The printout contained a list of the last thirty-six files thathad entered TRANSLTR. After each file was a four-digit Gauntletclearance code. However, the last file on the sheet had noclearance code—it simply read: manual bypass.

Jesus, Brinkerhoff thought. Midge strikesagain.

"The idiot!" Midge sputtered, seething. "Look atthis! Gauntlet rejected the file twice! Mutation strings! And hestill bypassed! What the hell was he thinking?"

Brinkerhoff felt weak-kneed. He wondered why Midge was alwaysright. Neither of them noticed the reflection that had appeared inthe window beside them. A massive figure was standing inFontaine's open doorway.

"Jeez," Brinkerhoff choked. "You think we have avirus?"

Midge sighed. "Nothing else it could be."

"Could be none of your damn business!" the deep voiceboomed from behind them.

Midge knocked her head against the window. Brinkerhoff tippedover the director's chair and wheeled toward the voice. Heimmediately knew the silhouette.

"Director!" Brinkerhoff gasped. He strode over andextended his hand. "Welcome home, sir."

The huge man ignored it.

"I-I thought," Brinkerhoff stammered, retracting hishand, "I thought you were in South America."

Leland Fontaine glared down at his aide with eyes like bullets."Yes… and now I'm back."