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ing me。 I described as best I could to the chopper's crew where the crash took place。 They're flying back to find him。 They will； he's not walking anywhere。〃
Peter Holland reached for the limousine's telephone； pushing three buttons。 In less than two seconds； he spoke。 〃Get word to EMS…Arlington； Equipment Fifty…seven。 The man they're picking up is to be brought directly to Langley。 To the infirmary。 And keep me informed as to their progress。 。。。 Sorry； Doctor。 Go on。〃
〃Go on？ What's to go on to？ I was kidnapped and held in some farmhouse and injected with enough sodium pentothal； if I'm not mistaken； to make me a resident of…of La La Land； which I was recently accused of being by Madame Scylla Charybdis。〃
〃What the hell are you talking about？〃 said Holland flatly。 〃Nothing； Admiral； or Mr。 Director or…〃
〃Peter's fine； Mo；〃 pleted Holland。 〃I simply didn't understand you。〃
〃There's nothing to understand but the facts。 My allusions are pulsive attempts at false erudition。 It's called posttraumatic stress。〃
〃Of course； now you're perfectly clear。〃
Panov turned to the DCI with a nervous smile。 〃It's my turn to be sorry； Peter。 I'm still wound up。 This last day or so hasn't exactly been representative of my normal life…style。〃
〃I don't think it's anybody's；〃 concurred Holland。 〃I've seen my share of rotten stuff； but nothing like this； nothing that tampers with the mind。 I missed all that。〃
〃There's no hurry； Mo；〃 added Conklin。 〃Don't press yourself； you've taken a lot of punishment。 If you like； we can postpone the briefing for a few hours so you can rest； calm down。〃
〃Don't be a damn fool； Alex！〃 protested the psychiatrist sharply。 〃For the second time I've put David's life in jeopardy。 The knowledge of that is far worse punishment。 There's not a minute to lose。 。。。 Forget Langley； Peter。 Take me to one of your clinics。 Free…floating； I want to get out everything I can recall； consciously or unconsciously。 Hurry。 I'll tell the doctors what to do。〃
〃You've got to be joking；〃 said Holland； staring at Panov。
〃I'm not joking for an instant。 You both have to know what I know…whether I realize I know it or not。 Can't you understand that？〃
The director again reached for the telephone and pressed a single button。 In the front seat； beyond the glass partition； the driver picked up the phone recessed in the seat beside him。 〃There's been a change of plans；〃 said Holland。 〃Head for Sterile Five。〃
The limousine slowed down； and at the next intersection turned right toward the rolling hills and verdant fields of the Virginia hunt country。 Morris Panov closed his eyes； as if in a trance or as a man might do facing some appalling ordeal…his own execution perhaps。 Alex looked at Peter Holland； they both glanced at Mo； then back at each other。 Whatever Panov was doing； there was a reason for it。 Until they reached the gates of the estate that was Sterile House Five thirty minutes later； no one spoke。
〃DCI and pany；〃 announced the driver to the guard wearing the uniform of a private security firm； in reality a CIA proprietary。 The limousine proceeded down the long tree…lined entrance。
〃Thanks；〃 said Mo； opening his eyes and blinking。 〃As I'm sure you gathered； I'm trying to clear my head and with any luck bring down my blood pressure。〃
〃You don't have to do this；〃 insisted Holland。
〃Yes； I do；〃 said Panov。 〃Maybe with time I could piece things together with a degree of clarity； but I can't now and we don't have the time。〃 Mo turned to Conklin。 〃How much can you tell me？〃
〃Peter knows everything。 For the sake of that blood pressure of yours； I won't fill you in on all the details； but the bottom line is that David's all right。 At least we haven't heard otherwise。〃
〃Marie？ The children？〃
〃On the island；〃 replied Alex； avoiding Holland's eyes。
〃What about this Sterile Five？〃 asked Panov； now looking at Holland。 〃I assume there's a specialist； or specialists； the kind I need。〃
〃In relays and around the clock。 You probably know a few of them。〃
〃I'd rather not。〃 The long dark vehicle swung around the circular drive and stopped in front of the stone steps of the pillared Georgian mansion that was the focal point of the estate。 〃Let's go；〃 said Mo quietly； stepping outside。
The sculptured white doors； the rose…colored marble floors and the elegant winding staircase in the great hall all bined to furnish a superb cover for the work done at Sterile Five。 Defectors； double and triple agents； and field officers returned from plex assignments for rest and debriefing were continuously processed through its various agendas。 The staff； each with a Four Zero clearance； consisted of two doctors and three nurses in relay units； cooks and domestic attendants recruited from the foreign service…in the main； overseas embassies…and guards； all with Ranger training or its equivalent。 They moved about the house and grounds unobtrusively； eyes constantly alert； each with either a concealed or an unconcealed weapon； except for the medical personnel。 Visitors without exception were given small lapel pins by the well…spoken； dark…suited house steward； who admitted them and directed them to the locations of their scheduled appointments。 The man was a retired gray…haired interpreter for the Central Intelligence Agency； but he suited his position so well in appearance he might have e from Central Casting。
Naturally； at the sight of Peter Holland； the steward was astonished。 He prided himself on mitting to memory every schedule at Sterile Five。 〃A surprise visit； sir？〃
〃Good to see you； Frank。〃 The DCI shook hands with the former interpreter。 〃You may remember Alex Conklin…〃
〃Good Lord； is that you； Alex？ It's been years！〃 Again hands were shaken。 〃When was the last time？ 。。。 That crazy woman from Warsaw； wasn't it？〃
〃The KGB's been chuckling ever since；〃 laughed Conklin。 〃The only secret she had was the recipe for the worst golumpki I've ever tasted。 。。。 Still keeping your hand in； Frank？〃
〃Every now and then；〃 replied the steward； grimacing in mock disapproval。 〃These young translators don't know a quiche from a kluski。〃
〃Since I don't either；〃 said Holland； 〃may I have a word with you； Frank？〃 The two older men walked off to the side speaking quietly as Alex and Mo Panov held their places； the latter frowning and sporadically breathing deeply。 The director returned； handing lapel pins to his colleagues。 〃I know where to go now；〃 he said。 〃Frank will call ahead。〃
The three of them walked up the curving ornate staircase； Conklin limping； and down a lushly carpeted hallway on the left to the rear of the enormous house。 On the right wall was a door unlike any of the doors they had passed； it was made of thick varnished oak with four small windows in the upper recessed panels and two black buttons set in an outlet casing beside the knob。 Holland inserted a key； twisted it and pressed the lower button； instantly a red light appeared in the small stationary camera mounted on the ceiling。 Twenty seconds later there was the familiar muffled metallic clanking of an elevator ing to a stop。 〃Inside； gentlemen；〃 ordered the DCI。 The door closed and the elevator began its descent。
〃We walked up t