The Judas Strain - James Rollins [56]
Whether she was Devesh’s sister, wife, or merely a companion, Lisa could not discern. But there was also something menacing in her silence, possibly heightened by the coldness in her eyes. Also her left arm was gloved in black, so skintight it was hard to tell if it was leather or rubber. But it looked like her limb had been dipped in black India Ink.
Crossing her arms, Lisa turned and searched the receding profile of Christmas Island. In the short time they’d been under way, the island had shrunk to a misty green silhouette, trailing a smudge of dark smoke into the sky. But who was there to see it as a signal? Painter would surely grow suspicious if neither she nor Monk called in to report. And for the moment, she placed all her hopes on his paranoia.
Luckily it was a safe bet.
A wind gusted as the tradewinds kicked up. Gulls coasted the breezes overhead, catching her eyes. If only she could fly away as easily…
A shout drew her attention back to the helicopter.
Two men in surgical scrubs hauled a stretcher from the rear hold of the helicopter. Wheels dropped and locked. Devesh hovered over them, checking the patient strapped to the gurney. Portable monitoring equipment lay nestled haphazardly around the patient for transport. The figure was sealed in an oxygen tent. The patient appeared to be a woman from the rise and fall of her chest. Facial features were obscured by a respirator and a tangled octopus of tubes and wires.
Devesh pointed his cane, and the two orderlies guided the gurney toward the elevators, following the train of medical equipment.
He finally crossed back to his captives.
“We’ll have all the labs and medical suites set up in the next hour. Luckily, Dr. Cummings and her partner were very kind to have brought pieces of equipment that were beyond even my reach. Who would have known your Defense Department’s research-and-development branch had perfected a portable scanning electron microscope? Along with electrophoresis equipment and protein sequencer? Quite a bit of serendipity to have such tools land in our laps.”
He tapped his cane and set off. “Come. Let me show you the true face of what assails us.”
Lisa followed with the others. In this instance, she didn’t need the rifles at her back to make her obey. Mysteries were piled atop mysteries here, and she wanted answers, some clue to the reason for this assault and for Devesh’s words.
My dear, together we must save the world.
They were led down three decks. Along the way, Lisa had noted crews of men in chemical suits, working along the lower passageways, moving within stinging clouds of sprayed disinfectant.
Devesh continued to the forward section of the ship. The hall ended at a wide circular space, off which the pricier cabins extended. Monk had commandeered one of the large suites here for his own laboratory. It seemed Devesh had commandeered all the rest.
Tucking under an isolation drape, he waved them into the busy central workspace. “Here we are,” he said.
A score of men were cracking open crates, yanking out packing straw and Styrofoam, hauling free plastic-wrapped medical and laboratory equipment. One man emptied a boxful of petri dishes used to culture bacteria. The door to Monk’s lab lay open. Lisa noted a man inside with a clipboard, inventorying Sigma’s equipment.
Devesh marched them to a neighboring cabin. He swiped a personal key card and shoved open the door.
Turning, he spoke to the tattooed leader of the mercenary force. “Rakao, please have Dr. Miller taken to the bacteriology suite.” He turned to the scientist. “Dr. Miller, we’ve taken the liberty of bringing up and expanding your bacteriology station. New incubation ovens, anaerobic growth media, blood culture plates. I’d like you to coordinate with Dr. Eloise Chénier, my team’s virologist, down the hall, to complete the infectious-disease lab.”
The Maori leader waved for one of his men to escort Miller down the hall. The bacteriologist