The Judas Strain - James Rollins [140]
Still, Gray had taken one small risk and had asked for a tiny concession from Painter. Afterward, with the matter settled, all Gray had to do was keep extending that time frame.
He still had another two hours.
The elevator door chimed open behind him. He heard the old wrought-iron door ratchet back. “I see you all arrived safely,” a voice spoke calmly behind him.
Gray turned.
Nasser stepped out of the cage and into the lobby, dressed in a dark suit, no tie. “It looks like we can get this meeting started early.”
Men in khaki uniforms and black berets appeared from the halls to either side. Behind him, Gray heard the pound of boots on the porch outside. A score more soldiers clambered down the curved stairs ahead. Though no weapons were in sight, Gray did not doubt they were all armed.
Kowalski must have sensed this, too. He already had his hands in the air.
Seichan merely shook her head. “There goes my hot bath.”
Vigor stepped back to Gray’s side.
Nasser joined them. “So it is time to discuss this cure.”
6:18 P.M.
Washington, D.C.
“FROM WHAT YOU just told me,” Dr. Malcolm Jennings said, “Gray has nothing to offer the Guild. Nothing of real value.”
Painter listened quietly, letting the man run through his thought processes. He had summoned Jennings, the head of Sigma’s research-and-development department, up to his office to get his input. Luckily, Jennings had already been on his way up here.
“From the details in Marco’s story,” Jennings said, pacing in front of Gray’s desk, “Polo and a handful of others were protected against the Judas Strain by consuming blood and sweetmeat, a delicacy derived from the thymus gland. And according to the story, the blood and gland were harvested out of another man.”
“Basically cannibalism.”
“Or as Gray had read into the text—and I believe he’s correct—it could represent a crude form of vaccination. The thymus gland is a major source of white blood cells, the body’s cellular defense against disease. And the blood is a major way antibodies against infections are distributed. By consuming such tissue, you could theoretically confer the equivalent of an immunization.”
Painter agreed. “That’s what Gray believes protected Polo’s companions.”
“But such a revelation is meaningless,” Jennings argued. “It offers no real cure. Where did the blood and gland come from? Not from one of the sick. You’d just get infected. There is a missing piece of this puzzle. For such a cure to work, you’d need to harvest cells and antibodies from someone cured, someone who survived the Judas Strain. It’s just circuitous logic. It takes a cure to find a cure.”
Painter sighed. “And you can’t think of anything in the story that might offer some elaboration.”
The doctor slowly shook his head.
As Painter feared, Gray was running a dangerous bluff. Amen Nasser was not a fool. The bastard would also recognize the lack of any real answer. All Gray’s bluff could hope to achieve was to buy time. And with the trail gone cold after the raid on the butcher shop, it seemed a wasted effort, a needless risk. Painter had hoped Jennings might have some new insight.
But no such luck.
Painter resigned himself. “So it seems Marco’s story leads to a dead end.”
“Not necessarily.” Jennings waited a breath. “Director, there is something else I wanted to discuss. It was why I was headed up here. It may even relate to this topic. In fact, if you have an extra minute, perhaps you’d better see this for yourself.”
Painter truly didn’t have that extra minute. He stared at the pile of papers in front of him, a plethora of reports.