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Finale... For now.

"Ready?" Beverley asked.

Sadie nodded. "How's the payload?"

Beverley nodded towards the thrumming air conditioning unit. Three large coloured gas cylinders stood upright in a metal frame, a complicated arrangement of feeds and tubes linking them to one of the air conditioning intakes. A control panel bore three little chrome wheels, one red master control wheel and a gas mixture readout.

The hookup was ready.

"Signal the surgery," Beverley said.

Helga

The extension rang. Helga picked up the phone, listened, nodded.

"Yeah, okay," she said, hanging up. She turned to Miss Mostyn, leaned across, stubbed out the cigarette she'd been smoking in the ashtray on the table.

"'Scuse me," she said, leaving the room.

Mr Tilley

Mr Tilley watched as Justine called the staff room.

"Helga?" she said, her voice muffled by the gasmask. Then: "Come to Mr Tilley's room." Then Justine hung up.

"Good good," Mr Tilley said. "When she gets here, we'll mask her. This way, Sarah'll think you misdialled the staffroom and got the wrong extension." He smiled. "Wouldn't want your little spy cottoning on too soon, now, would we David?"

"What ..." David R. struggled to say.

"Interesting, resistance," Mr Tilley said. "Soon sort that out."

The door opened, and Helga walked in, without a mask. She crossed over to a storage unit, took out a gasmask, put it on.

"Ready?" Mr Tilley asked.

"Ready," Helga replied.

"Ready," Justine said.

"Well, then," Mr Tilley said, "let's get the show on the road." He looked at David. "Justine, take him off the vent, put a mask on him first." As Justine reached for another gasmask, Mr Tilley leaned over David R. again.

"Don't want you to overdose, now," he said. "Remain where you are. Relax. Let your body just relax and sink into the seat."

David R. found his body complying, even if his mind wasn't.

Justine removed the vent, slipped the gasmask over the unresisting David R. and adjusted it. When she was ready, she stood up and crossed back over to Helga, who stood impassively beside the phone.

The extension gave two rings, went dead.

"Justine," Mr Tilley said. Justine gave the extension to the aircon room two rings, hung up.

"That's it," Mr Tilley said. "Now all we do is wait for the gas to start. How many people were in reception?"

"Sarah the receptionist, the blonde girl, the suit, the Keeley lads - you know, the twin College students, Miss Mostyn in the staff room, Kelly Tan in the Recovery Room and Rosamond Callas," Helga replied.

"Rosamond Callas?" Mr Tilley asked.

"She just dropped by. She wanted to see you about something," Helga said. "She was talking to Sarah a few minutes back. She looked very angry."

Mr Tilley chuckled. "She won't be in a minute."

Beverley and Sadie

The wall mounted extension rang twice, flashing red. It went dark. Beverley and Sadie looked at one another, then at the aircon unit.

"Time to get started," Sadie said.

Beverley crossed over to the control panel, checked the gas mix proportions were correct, and slowly turned the red wheel, letting the gas vent into the air conditioning system.

"In about a minute," Beverley said, "the gas will fill every room in the surgery."

Sadie listened to the whooshing as the gas mixed with the air, carrying it through the ducts into the rooms where the unsuspecting patients, Sarah C. and Miss Mostyn sat.

"Buckle up," Beverley said, "you're going on a hell of a ride."

Sadie smiled. "Nighty night."

Reception

In Reception, the customers sat waiting. Sarah C. sat at the desk, filing her nails, bored. There hadn't been a phone call for half an hour, and all the filing was done.

Sarah C. was glancing across at Rosamond Callas, who sat across from her, watching the door to the surgeries, apparently fuming.

The other customers - Piper Connors, the blonde girl in the townie getup, James and Robert Keeley, Marsha Winstone the City girl - were starting to look bored and exasperated.

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