Terminal

Sean stopped in awe in front of a peculiar egg-shaped apparatus. “Don’t let your credit card get near to this big guy,” he said. “It’s a nuclear magnetic resonator. You have any idea what this baby costs?”

Janet shook her head.

“Try half a million dollars,” Sean said. “And if they have that, it means they have an X-ray defractor as well.”

Walking on, Sean came to a glass-enclosed area. Inside he could see a Type III maximum containment hood as well as banks and banks of tissue culture incubators. Sean tried the glass door. It opened out, so he had to work against the suction holding it closed. In order to prevent the escape of any organisms, the pressure inside the viral lab was kept lower than the rest of the laboratory.

Stepping into the maximum containment area, Sean motioned for Janet to stay where she was. First he went to a floor freezer and opened its hood. The temperature on an internal gauge stood at minus seventy degrees Fahrenheit. Nestled inside the freezer were multiple racks containing small vials. Each vial contained a frozen viral culture.

Closing the freezer, Sean glanced in some of the tissue culture incubators. They were being kept at ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit, mimicking the normal internal temperature of a human being.

Moving on to the desk, Sean picked up some electron photomicrographs of isometric viruses as well as accompanying engineering-style drawings of the viral capsids. The drawings were done to study the icosahedral symmetry of the viral shells and included actual measurement of the capsomeres. Sean noted that the viral particle had an overall diameter of 43 nanometers.

Leaving the maximum containment area, Sean proceeded into an area in which he felt very much at home. A whole section of the lab seemed dedicated to oncogene study, just what Sean was doing back in Boston. The difference, however, was that in this lab the equipment was all brand new. Sean longingly looked at shelf upon shelf of appropriate reagents for the isolation of oncogenes and their products, the oncoproteins.

“This place is state of the art in every regard,” he said. In the oncogene section there were additional tissue culture incubators the size of thousand-bottle wine coolers. He opened the door of one and glanced at the cell lines. “This is a place I could work,” he said, closing the incubator.

“Is this what you expected?” Janet asked. She’d followed behind like a puppy except when he went into the maximum containment area.

“More than I expected,” Sean said. “This must be where Levy works. I’d guess that most of this equipment has come from the off-limits area of the sixth floor of the Forbes research building.”

“What is all this telling you?” Janet asked.

“It’s telling me I need a few hours in the lab back at Forbes,” Sean said. “I believe . . .”

Sean didn’t get to finish. The sounds of voices and footsteps were heard coming up the stairway. Janet put a hand over her mouth in panic. Sean grabbed her, his eyes desperately sweeping that area of the lab for a place to hide. There was no escape.

11

March 7

Sunday, 8:05 A.M.

“Here they are!” Wayne Edwards announced. He’d just pulled open a stout metal door to a small storage closet near the glass-enclosed maximum containment lab.

Sean and Janet blinked with the sudden intrusion of light.

Sterling stepped toward Wayne’s discovery. Kurt was at his side.

“They may not look like fugitives or agents provocateurs,” Sterling said. “Though of course we know the truth.”

“Out of the closet!” Wayne commanded.

A subdued and remorseful Janet and a defiant Sean stepped out into the bright light.

“You people should not have left the airport last night,” Sterling scolded. “And to think of the effort we’d expended on your behalf to thwart your abduction. Some gratitude. I’m curious to know if you’re aware of how much trouble you’ve caused.”

“How much trouble I am causing,” Sean corrected.

“Ah, Dr. Mason mentioned you were brash,” Sterling said. “Well, we’ll allow you to vent your impertinence on the Key West police. They can do battle with their Miami counterparts as to jurisdiction of your case now that you’ve committed a felony here as well.”

Sterling picked up a phone in preparation to dial.

Sean pulled the long-dormant gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at him. “Put the phone down,” he commanded.

Janet sucked in her breath at the sight of the gun in Sean’s hand.

“Sean!” she cried. “No!”

“Shut up,” Sean snapped. The threesome surrounding him in a wide arc made him nervous. The last thing he wanted to do was let Janet give them an opportunity to overpower him.

As Sterling replaced the receiver, Sean motioned for the three men to group together.

“This is extremely foolish behavior,” Sterling commented. “Breaking and entering in the possession of a deadly weapon is a far more serious crime than mere breaking and entering.”

“Into the closet!” Sean commanded, motioning toward the space he and Janet had just vacated.