Running Dark

41

SUMNER ROLLED OFF HER AND CRAB-WALKED ACROSS THE DECK to the far wall, where a rifle lay. He returned to the railing, staying low. The cruise ship kept surging in fitful starts and stops, making it hard for Emma to stay put. Sumner, too, seemed to be having trouble. She watched him brace his shoulder against the railing and his foot on the deck. He wore black gym shoes with rubber soles that squeaked on the polished planks. A large man stepped out of a nearby door. Emma recognized him as the person who had stared at her while she was trying to board.

“Block, get down,” Sumner said. The man hunkered down before crawling to Emma.

“Can you shoot?” she asked.

Block raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

She lifted her pant leg at the ankle and pulled out the gun. It seemed as if she was forever giving her gun to someone else to shoot. She handed it to Block.

He smiled. “Finally I get a real gun. Sumner’s been hogging the rifle. What are you going to use?”

She reached into the messenger bag and removed two grenades. “Do you have any matches?”

Block handed her a small book of matches embossed with the words KAISER FRANZ.

“I’ll light these and throw them if I need to.”

Block looked intrigued. “How about I give you the gun and I throw the grenades? I might be able to throw farther than you.”

“Good idea,” Emma said.

“Block, do you have a radio?” Sumner asked.

“I do,” Block said.

“I don’t hear anything. Call Janklow and ask him what’s happening on their end.”

Block pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt and depressed the button. “Janklow, they gone?”

Emma moved up next to Sumner with the matches still in her hand.

“You should get inside. I don’t want you to die from a grenade,” he told her.

“I’m staying.”

Sumner didn’t say anything. He turned back to stare out to sea.

“Janklow says they’re gone. Took off all at once. Like they got an order to retreat or something,” Block said.

Sumner visibly relaxed. Emma felt a breath rush from her body, as if she’d been holding it for a very long time. She heard Block’s walkie-talkie rattle again. A man’s voice flowed out of it.

“The crazy Western woman, is she on board?”

Emma snorted. “Is he talking about me?”

Sumner nodded. “You think he’s wrong?”

“About what, that I’m crazy?”

“Yes.”

“As crazy as you are,” she said.

Block laughed behind her. “Yeah, Janklow, she’s here and giving Sumner what for.”

The walkie-talkie emitted another squawk. Emma heard the man’s voice again. “Ask Sumner if she’s the beautiful mad scientist.”

Sumner allowed a trace of a smile to cross his face but said nothing.

Block depressed the button. “She’s beautiful, and she’s nuts to join us, so I guess the answer is yes.”

Sumner grabbed a rung of the railing and pulled himself up to standing. “This is Emma Caldridge. Caldridge, Harry Block.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Caldridge,” Block said.

Sumner handed Block the rifle. “Can you take a watch? Ms. Caldridge and I have a lot to talk about.”

Emma watched Block heft the gun with obvious pleasure. “I sure will.” He handed Emma her pistol. “Don’t hurt him. He’s the most depressing guy I’ve ever met, but I’m getting used to having him around.”

She was surprised. “Depressing? Not at all.”

Block grunted. “Just ask him what our chances of surviving are and then tell me if you don’t think he’s depressing.”

“Our chances of surviving just got a whole lot better,” Sumner said.

Block looked happier. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

Sumner waved Emma to a nearby door.

The minute they passed through it, she turned to him. “I’m glad you’re alive. I was afraid I’d be too late.”

The hallway was dark. All the lights were off. The ship continued to move in fits and starts, but it was slowing. The surges were not as violent, the slowing less pronounced. Emma leaned on the wall to brace herself against the movement. Sumner supported himself by placing a palm on the same wall, next to her head. Emma thought he looked exhausted. His dark hair hung in clumps, and deep circles rimmed his eyes. He rubbed his face against the arm that held him steady. When he was done, he gave her one of his intense looks, but it was tinged with another emotion Emma couldn’t identify.

“Did Banner send you?”

“He wanted to, but Stromeyer was against it. I sent myself.”

Sumner took a deep breath. He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I had to.”

“Colombia not enough excitement for you? You needed more?”

“I couldn’t live with myself if you died and I hadn’t tried to help. And besides, what about you? Are you a danger junkie or something?”

He put his head down and looked at the floor for a moment before looking back into her eyes.

“I’m furious that you took the risk, but at the same time very, very glad to see you.”

His voice sounded like gravel rolled over, as if he hadn’t slept, but there was no mistaking the emotion behind the words. Something small in her uncurled, as if the constant hold she kept on her emotions were relaxing for a moment. Instead of the usual rush of despair and grief that followed whenever she released her vigilance, she felt calm. Perhaps for the first time in days. Sumner leaned toward her, lowering his head to hers.

From down the hall came the sound of several people approaching. Emma watched Sumner fold back into himself, almost as if he were physically pulling himself together. He stepped away from her, breaking the connection that had passed between them.

“Heading to hot spots is my job,” he said.

Emma sighed. “And chemistry is mine.”

He grew serious. “There’s ricin on board.”

She nodded. “I know. I was supposed to have a kit to identify it. But Banner’s contact was unable to throw it to me on the ladder. I only hope he and Stark got away.”

Sumner straightened. “Who’s Stark?”

“Richard Stark. The CEO of Price Pharmaceuticals.”

Sumner got a strange look on his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” Emma said.

He grabbed her by the hand. “Come with me.”

Sumner steered her into the bowels of the ship. When he came to a door with a keypad, he tapped in a code. The door swung open. He led her to a large crate with the word PRICE stamped all over it.

“What’s this?”

He took a deep breath. “This is where the ricin is.”

Emma felt her heart plunge.

“Could he be involved?” Sumner said.

She thought about Stark. Ran the events of the past days over in her mind. “Oh, yeah, he could definitely be involved.” Still, she didn’t want to believe it.

Sumner seemed to catch her reluctance. “What’s he like?”

Emma thought about Stark. “Driven. Smart. Tough.”

“Ruthless?”

She nodded. “In business? He has that reputation. He told me he’d do anything to ensure that Price stayed viable.”

“And personally? Ruthless there as well?”

Emma wasn’t sure. “He lives to work. Nothing else seems to matter, but he does have a daughter.”

“What do you think of him?”

The question was a good one. She had no real answer for it.

“I don’t trust him, but I can’t tell you why. He’s never done anything to hurt me that I know of.”

A plump man with a dour face, wearing a white uniform, stepped into the cargo area. He ran his eyes over Emma.

“This the chemist?” he said.

“Nathan Janklow, meet Emma Caldridge.”

Janklow shook her hand. “What do you think of our little problem?”

“The ricin?”

“The pirates. Without them we’d quietly sail into some port and have the experts remove the ricin just as quietly.”

Emma turned her attention back to the crate. “Do we know who claimed that ricin is in there?”

“Banner informed us,” Sumner said.

That solved that. Emma wasn’t about to question anything Banner said. Ricin protocol required a whole host of cautious steps and protective equipment that was currently back on the little speedboat floating somewhere on the ocean. Emma could only hope that Hassim and Stark were alive and still able to drive the boat.

“Normally I’d follow hazmat procedures, but in this case I think we just cover up as much as possible and get to it. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“What are normal procedures? Space suits?” Janklow said.

“Protective clothing, of course. But ricin isn’t readily absorbed into the skin, so we can proceed with something less and still survive the encounter. It’s inhalation that I’m worried about. I don’t suppose that you have anything like respirator masks?”

Janklow thought a minute. “We have temporary fire masks. I say ‘temporary’ because they consist of a simple plastic hood that goes over one’s head and contains a respirator filled with enough air for forty-five minutes. They’re not meant to be a full-fledged mask but instead are designed to buy a person time to get out of a smoky area.”

Emma gazed at the crate. It was wooden, with an outer layer of plastic shrink wrap. There was a risk just opening it, but the danger rose exponentially with each layer they unpeeled.

“Any protective clothing?” she asked.

“Will work coveralls do? We have some in the mechanical room.”

“Gloves?”

“Rubber or cloth? I might also be able to dig up some surgical gloves in the infirmary.”

“Surgical with a heavy workman’s glove over it would be great. We’ll use the combination during the crate’s initial breakdown, and I’ll strip mine off to the surgical layer during the testing phase, when I’ll need some dexterity. I suggest we save the masks for after we get through the first layers. Maybe a simple face mask from the infirmary will help.”

“Can the ricin particles infiltrate a standard face mask?” Sumner asked.

Emma wasn’t sure, but she thought it could. “Probably, but it doesn’t hurt to wear them anyhow.”

“Let’s get to it,” Janklow said.

Forty-five minutes later, Emma, Sumner, Janklow, and a man named Clutch were dressed in heavy mechanics’ jumpsuits and work gloves. Emma had rolled her suit at the sleeves and the pant legs to allow her to use her hands and to walk unhindered. She watched while Janklow and Clutch used crowbars to pry off the crate’s vertical slats. Once those were removed, the only thing standing between Emma and the vaccine vials was another layer of shrink wrap and the individual cardboard boxes that housed the vaccines. The second layer of plastic was off in no time. They were down to the boxes.

Emma couldn’t see inside them, but if the vaccines were packaged like other vials she’d seen, each large box would contain four smaller ones that in turn would contain twelve vials. There were thirty-six large boxes, which meant they had 1,728 vials to analyze. Something told Emma that they’d never get through them all before the pirates regrouped. She needed a strategy to both physically arrange the vials and check each as rapidly as was feasible.

“Lay them out on the floor. Don’t put the mask on until the last possible minute. Only wear it while you look through each small container.”

Sumner grabbed a large box and lowered it to the floor. He used a razor knife to slice open the top, then removed each smaller carton and began lining them up. Janklow joined him. They worked with a quiet efficiency. Emma helped, all the while trying to dredge up facts about ricin from her memory.

“You said it doesn’t easily penetrate the skin. Does that mean that if it gets under our gloves or clothing, we won’t die?” Janklow asked the question while moving boxes back and forth.

“Washing with soap and water will work.” Emma was sure of that.

Two women stepped into the room. The first was young, about Emma’s age, with white-blond hair and a pretty, open face. Her eyes flicked around before locking on Sumner. She smiled when she saw him, a shy smile. It was clear she was attracted to him, and Emma felt a small twinge of something. She tamped it down, in order to stay focused. Sumner nodded at the women, but he looked back at the boxes, and it was clear his mind was on the problem before him.

The second woman was a bit older, perhaps nearing forty-five, dressed in jeans and a white sleeveless top that hugged the curves of an impressive chest. She had long caramel-colored hair streaked with blond. Her eyes locked on Sumner as well, but she had a determined air about her. Emma thought she was there to deliver an ultimatum. After a minute, when Sumner finally looked up from his work, the second woman spoke.

“Harry’s on the deck holding your gun and telling me to stay in my room, but I want no truck with that. I want to help.” She indicated the woman next to her. “And Marina does, too.”

Marina nodded. “I can’t stand the waiting.”

To Emma they seemed an unlikely pair. The first woman had a German accent, while the second had a southern drawl. One looked as pure as the driven snow, the other like a steel magnolia. The second one appeared the type of woman who wasn’t about to let anyone or anything get in her way. Emma watched the proceedings while continuing to unload the boxes.

The southerner walked up to her. “I’m Cindy, Harry’s wife.”

“Emma Caldridge. You shouldn’t be in here.” Emma kept her voice mild, but what she wanted to do was throw up her arms and warn them away.

Janklow stepped in. “Ma’am, you’re not allowed to be here without protective clothing.”

Cindy’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Clutch stopped working. “Because it’s a cargo hold. The door to it is marked ‘Private,’ did you see that?” His voice held a harsh note. Emma didn’t like Clutch. His every word since meeting her—and the words were few—had been either an order or a challenge.

“The door was open. What’s in the cargo?”

“Ma’am, please leave. You can’t be here, and that’s it,” Janklow said.

“A chemical weapon,” Sumner said.

Cindy’s mouth dropped open. Marina’s eyes widened. They both froze.

“At least we think that’s what it is,” Sumner continued. “We’re not telling the rest of the passengers for obvious reasons. But once we open these cartons, you could be at great risk, so unless you’re serious about helping, you both need to get as far away as possible.”

Clutch made an angry noise. “What the hell are you telling them for? I thought this was supposed to be a secret!”

Sumner returned to removing the boxes. “They’re not going to be on the deck shooting, but we are. We die in the next few hours, someone should know what’s in here.”

Emma was starting to see why Block thought Sumner was depressing. His clear-eyed view on things was a bit disconcerting.

He jerked his chin at the two women. “You want to help, there are two more jumpsuits in the mechanical room. Left out the exit and third or fourth door down.”

Cindy and Marina stood still. Emma kept unloading, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for the two women. They had more problems than they’d realized. To their credit, though, neither seemed like the type to fall into hysterics.

Cindy turned to Emma. “Harry said you’re a scientist. Give me the lowdown.”

Clutch made a noise and started toward Cindy. Janklow stepped in front of him. Once Clutch subsided, Janklow moved closer to the women.

“No lowdowns until you are both properly dressed. I’m not kidding.”

The women looked at each other. Cindy took a large breath. “I’m not staying.” She pointed at Clutch. “Not because I’m afraid. Just because I agree with Sumner that if y’all die once you open the boxes, then someone should be alive to tell the tale.” Touché, Emma thought. She was starting to really like Cindy.

“Possibly ricin, maybe mustard gas, or maybe a new weapon not on our radar screens yet,” Emma said.

“What about anthrax?” Marina said.

“Or anthrax,” Emma agreed.

“What does ricin look like, and how does it kill?” Cindy asked.

Janklow made an impatient noise.

Emma waved him off. “Two-second explanation. Then they’ll go.”

Cindy nodded her agreement.

“It’s odorless and colorless, although in liquid form it may appear a bit cloudy, depending on how carefully it’s prepared. It kills by inhalation, ingestion, or injection. The three I’s. Regarding odds of death, worst is injection, obviously, because it’s shot into your system at maximum toxicity. If it’s camouflaged as a vaccine, I’m thinking that injection is the intended delivery method. But while injection is bad for the guy who gets hit, it’s good for us, because injection is not a feasible method for mass destruction. It’s impossible to inject hundreds of people at once, and even if you could, ricin is not communicable, so there’s no compounding effect. Plus, if injection is the plan, then the ricin will be inside a sealed container, in a liquid form, awaiting use. It’ll be easy to dispose of, and we’ll live.”

“Assuming the pirates don’t kill us,” Janklow said. Emma didn’t respond to his comment.

“If not by injection, what about inhalation?” Cindy asked.

“Inhalation is bad. Especially aerosolized fine particles that can infiltrate deep into your lungs. Ingestion is also bad. This stuff gets sprinkled on your food, you’re getting sick, no doubt about it.”

“How do we know we’ve been infected?” Marina said.

“Flu-like symptoms. Destruction begins at the cellular level. There’s multi-organ dysfunction, then death.”

Marina paled. Emma couldn’t blame her. It was a dreadful scenario.

Cindy stepped back. “We’re going now. Ms. Caldridge, would you mind coming to talk to me after?”

“If I live after I open these cartons? Certainly.”

Cindy nodded. She spun on her heel and left, Marina trailing in her wake.

Emma turned back to the job of lining up the vaccines. “Nice women,” she said.