The Judas Strain - James Rollins [49]
The former forensic pathologist lowered his lanky frame into the chair, but he remained perched at its edge, plainly anxious. A file folder was clutched in his hand. Jennings, close to sixty years old, had been with Sigma since before Painter took over as director. He adjusted his glasses, whose half-moon lenses were tinged a slight shade of blue, better to prevent eyestrain during computer use. They also complemented his dark olive skin and graying hair, giving him a hip professorial air. But right now, the pathologist merely looked worn from the long night, though there remained a manic vein of excitement in his eyes.
“I assume this meeting is about the files Lisa transmitted from Christmas Island,” Painter began.
Jennings nodded and opened the folder. He slid over two photographs, gruesome shots of some man’s legs, riddled with what appeared to be gangrene. “I’ve gone through both the toxicologist’s and the bacteriologist’s notes. Here is a patient whose skin bacteria suddenly turned virulent, consuming the soft tissues of his own legs. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Painter studied the pictures, but before he could even ask a question, the doctor was back up on his feet, pacing.
“I know we initially classified the Indonesian disaster as a low-level priority, merely a fact-gathering operation. But after these findings, we need to upgrade. Immediately. I came here in person to petition for a promotion of the scenario to Status Critical Level Two.”
Painter sat straighter. Such a classification would mean diverting massive resources.
“We need more than two people poking around,” Jennings continued. “I want a full forensic team on the ground as soon as possible, even if we have to outsource with the general military.”
“And you don’t think this is jumping the gun? Monk and Lisa are due to touch base in”—Painter checked his watch—“in a little over three hours. We can strategize then, when we have more data.”
Jennings took off his glasses and rubbed a knuckle into an eye. “I don’t think you understand. If the preliminary conjectures by the toxicologist prove to be true, we may be facing an ecological disaster, one with the potential to alter the entire earth’s biosphere.”
“Malcolm, don’t you think you’re overstating your case? These results are preliminary. Most of it mere conjecture.” Painter waved to the photographs. “All this could just be a onetime toxic event.”
“Even if that were the case, I’d recommend firebombing that island and cordoning off the surrounding seas for several years.” He faced Painter. “And if this threat proves in any way transmissible, we’re talking about the potential for a global environmental meltdown.”
Painter gaped at the pathologist. Jennings was not one to cry wolf.
The doctor continued. “I’ve compiled all the necessary data and written a brief abstract to summarize. Read it and get back to me. The sooner the better.”
Jennings left his folder on Painter’s desk.
Painter placed a palm atop it and pulled it toward him. “I’ll do it now and get back to you in the next half hour.”
Jennings nodded, grateful and relieved. He turned to leave, but not before adding one last warning. “Keep in mind…we still don’t know for sure what killed the dinosaurs.”
With that sobering thought, the pathologist left his office. Painter’s eyes settled to the gruesome photographs still on his desk. He prayed Jennings was wrong. In all the commotion of the past hours, he had almost forgotten about the situation out in the Indonesian islands.
Almost.
All night long, Lisa had never been far from his mind.
But now new worries flared, ignited by the pathologist’s urgency. He tried not to let it rule him. Over the course of the morning, Lisa had not reported in again. Apparently nothing had escalated over there enough to warrant another emergency call.
Still…
Painter tapped the intercom button. “Brant, can you ring up Lisa’s satellite phone?”
“Right away.”
Painter opened the file folder. As he began to read the report inside, a cold dread edged up his spine.
Brant came back on the intercom. “Director,