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"I might."

"I can help you get the virus. I have access to security plans, surveillance codes, the works."

"But—?"

"But there's going to be a price."

"Name it."

"You have to guarantee me that you'll bring this corporation down."

"What makes you think I want to bring anyone down? Maybe I just want to use the virus to kill the people who killed Mahmoud."

"You're not that type, Lisa. Trust me, I know killers. I've spent all my adult life surrounded by them, on both sides of the law. You don't have it in you. What you do have is outrage, and that's what I need."

"Why can't you do this yourself? "

"I'm too far inside. There are ways they can shut me down. You're still pretty clean, though. You've only been here a couple of months, they haven't been able to sink their claws all the way into you yet. If I try it won't work. To be honest, it may not work for you, either. These people are good."

"And if I screw it up, you're still clear."

"You're not nearly as stupid as Spence looks. This is a dangerous game, Lisa. You sure you want to play it?"

"Completely sure."

Spence heard enough.

He turned off the recorder.

So much for the tropical island.

Spence kept a low profile for the next few days. Eventually, his buyer alerted him that he was ready.

He and Alice had particularly good sex that morning. Maybe the best ever.

Ironic, really.

She slept while he got dressed, her glorious naked body sprawled out on the incredibly comfortable mattress.

He was definitely going to miss the sex.

On a whim, he wrote today all your dreams come true on the pad of paper on the desk in the bedroom.

Then he proceeded into the Hive.

He entered the proper security codes to get in, he put on the Hazmat suit, then went through the titanium-reinforced door to the temperature-regulated room that housed the T-virus, again entering the proper security code. The little-kid computer was none the wiser.

Walking over to one of the utility closets, Spence removed a hypo-gun and a metal case. The gun fit neatly into one of the case's slots. All the other slots were intended to house small cylindrical tubes.

He walked over to the far wall, which included a PlastiGlas window, and a horizontal slot under it. Spence opened the slot by activating a control. It slid downward, allowing him to slide the case into the small chamber.

Smoky condensation puffed out through the slot, as the temperature inside the chamber was quite low, and only the Hazmat suit kept him from feeling the overwhelming cold that issued forth.

The slot closed once the case was ensconced within. Spence activated several other controls, one of which unfurled the two waldoes from sides of the window, another of which caused the bottom of the chamber to slide open to reveal fourteen vials.

Manipulating the waldoes, Spence placed each of the vials into the slots—half the T-virus, half the anti-virus.

Once all fourteen vials were in place, the case shut automatically, and sealed itself. With the tray cleared of the vials and the case sealed, the computer would allow the slot to open once again. When it did, Spence grabbed the case and brought it out of the temperature-controlled room and into the adjacent laboratory.

He removed the Hazmat suit, put on a pair of rubber gloves, and entered the keycode. The case obligingly opened, an action that served two functions: to verify that the keycode worked and to allow Spence access to one of the vials containing the blue liquid.

Pulling out the vial with a protected hand, he sealed the case once again, placed it in a duffel bag, zipped the bag up, and hoisted it onto one shoulder.

Before departing the lab, he tossed the vial toward the center of the room, then turned, exited, and closed and locked the door.

He had to move quickly now—he had maybe five minutes before the Queen would lock down the place. It took two minutes to make it to the train station level.

Moving so fast, he collided with one of the corporate twits—resulting in spilled coffee and a sarcastic "Thank