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Unformatted text preview: s hour. If he were back in San Francisco, he'd be in surgery right now. He was feeling better with every step he took. They proceeded towards the bright warm daylight, and the busy gathering of cabs and limousines beyond the glass doors. It wasn't terribly cold here. No, not as bitingly cold as San Francisco, not at all. But the light was the real difference. There was more of it. And the air stood motionless around you. Kind of nice. "This colleague," said Lark, "said his name was Erich Stolov. He demanded to know where the specimens were." "Is that so?" said Lightner with a slight frown. He gestured to the left, and one of the many limousines, a great sleek gray Lincoln, crawled out and towards them, its windows black and secretive. Light- ner didn't wait for the driver to come round. He opened the back door himself. Gratefully, Lark climbed into the soft velvet gray interior, shifting over to the far seat, faintly disturbed by the smell of cigarette smoke lingering i...
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- Spring '10