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vulnerable than most to the security man’s nasty methods of self-justification. The movement of pharmaceuticals from one place to another place was something he could really zoom in on. He ran security at the Bethel Park laboratory like a concentration camp, so rumor said; Megan had heard complaints from the lab workers that they couldn’t go pee without first signing a register. So Bogert had started looking around corporate headquarters for what he called weak-security areas, and had quickly fixed on the distribution manager’s office.
    Megan sighed and picked up the computer printout again. The vaccine was scheduled for local shipment, to area hospitals. She checked over the details of the arrangements she’d made, taking note of the “R” in the special requirements column. The two vehicles she’d assigned both had registry numbers ending with the letter “R”, so that was all right. She looked at the registry number of the larger truck Bogert had switched the shipment to.
    No “R”.
    Megan sat absolutely still, thinking over what that meant. Then she checked the computer. No mistake. “R” meant the material being shipped had to be kept refrigerated. Bogert had switched the vaccine from two small refrigerated vehicles to one large unrefrigerated one.
    That’s why she’d assigned two small instead of one large in the first place—the smaller vehicles were the only refrigerated ones available. If that vaccine went out in the unrefrigerated truck, it would spoil in transit. And if the hospital personnel somehow failed to catch it, that meant that hundreds of children would be inoculated with worthless vaccine. Megan reached toward the computer keyboard.
    But pulled her hands back. Bogert had warned her he’d be at Bethel Park overseeing the loading of the vaccine. He’d be right there in a position to override her countermanding order. Bogert would have to be told why.
    She reached for the phone—and pulled her hand back again. Wait a minute, wait a minute: think it through . Bogert had made a serious mistake, a dreadful one in fact. There must be some way she could use it to get him out of her hair.
    If she told him directly, it would go no further; Bogert wasn’t the type to go around advertising his own mistakes. But what if she didn’t notice the security man’s error for another few hours? Not until he was on his way to Bethel Park, in fact?
    Since Bogert could override her own instructions, she’d need the backing of someone higher up in Glickman’s chain of authority. She’d certainly be justified in going over Bogert’s head to the vice president in charge of marketing and distribution—no, that wouldn’t work; Megan remembered he was in Boston this week. When the implications of that sank in, she began to smile. She’d once given the vice president the opportunity to prevent just this kind of error and he’d failed to take action. So if that meant Megan had to go straight to the president of the company to save a shipment of vaccine from being ruined because of one man’s meddling and another man’s wishywashyness—why, then, that’s exactly what she’d do.
    Megan felt a surge of energy, the first she’d felt since she’d awakened on the Schenley Park golf course. All she had to do was time it right, keep an eye on Bogert and wait until he left before she made her move. She dropped the printout into the bottom drawer of her desk and locked it. Evidence.
    Now Megan was able to work. She put both Bogert and blackouts out of her mind and got to it. Having a plan of action can do wonders for one’s morale.
    Later in the morning Megan started inventing errands for herself that took her past Bogert’s office. When at twelve o’clock she saw him leave, she went back to her own office. She waited fifteen minutes and went up to the president’s office, the