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She strode back to her desk as she mentally called for Kane’s second-in-command. A few minutes later, the door to her office opened, and the twins strode in. Miriam sipped her water as she considered the two men. They were identical in every way, including their sociopathic need to kill. And, although she hadn’t known them as long as she’d known Kane, they had yet to disappoint her.
“Congratulations,” she told them. “You are now head of security. Kane was assassinated in Bolivia.”
There was no reaction from the brothers. She hadn’t expected one.
“I want you two to have his body transported to our Houston lab. Have the poison team run a thorough investigation into the toxin that killed him. I want to know if there are any signs of a synthetic delivery system. I also want to know if the poison is natural or manmade.” She waved a hand, and footage of the snake attack
ing Kane filled her office wall. “I want to know what kind of weapon that snake is. It was programmed to find Kane and kill him.”
That got their attention. The duo’s eyebrows arched slightly, in perfect unison. Miriam changed the image. A security shot of the smuggler filled the screen.
“This is Striker. I want to know everything there is to know about the man and his associates.”
The twins didn’t acknowledge the order. Instead, they waited to see if she had any more instructions. She only had one. “Move your things into Kane’s old quarters. You’re living with me now.”
Again, there was no response, and the door closed silently behind them. In the darkness of her office, with only the image on the wall for light, Miriam studied the man responsible for killing Kane.
If she couldn’t get the reptile weapon he owned, she’d take the smuggler.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Is he eating?” Mace watched his friend from the tunnel outside of his room.
Striker gently brushed Friday’s hair back from her face. The little scientist looked like she was sleeping. There were no outward signs that one of the most dangerous poisons on the planet was at work within her.
“Sandi’s been forcing him to eat.” Doc stood beside him. “Last I heard, she pulled a gun on him and told him there were easier ways to die than starving. He ate the soup.”
“When we were growing up, my sister was known for her soft heart and her kind, subtle way with words.”
Doc’s answering grin was subdued.
“What’s the latest?” He hated seeing the toll this took on their team leader. With Friday stuck in the no-man’s-land between life and death, Striker held on to hope that she’d pull through. Everyone on the team, except their leader, thought it was a false hope. She might as well have been plugged into life support for all the signs of life they saw. Mace worried that one day soon, one of them would have to pull the plug.
“I’m damned if I know.” Doc let out a weary sigh. He’d been burning the midnight oil in his search for answers. “She should have died weeks ago. Every research article I’ve read said the longest someone lived after Interferan-X activated was three days. We’re on seven weeks. She’s breathing on her own, and there are no physical changes. As far as I can see, the only sign that something isn’t right is the fact her temperature is elevated and she’s been unconscious since we brought her here.”
“Coma?”
“It looks like it, but I’m not sure. There are anomalies. Equipment readings I wouldn’t expect to see if she were in a real coma.” He let out a huff. “I’m a medic. Not a specialist, not even a doctor. I’m in over my head here.”
“What if we try giving her the antidote now? I can take some guys, we can hit the lab and lift some.”
The medic shook his head, clearly at a loss. “I don’t think it would make any difference. The blood tests I’ve been running are becoming increasingly strange. The Interferan-X is still there, but it’s mutating. It looks like there’s something else, too, some other foreign body in her blood that I can’t quite identify.”
“When you say the Interferan-X is mutating, what do you mean, exactly?”
“It’s morphing into something else, that’s what I mean. Don’t ask me what, because I don’t have a clue.”
They stared at the pale-skinned woman. Each of them at a loss as to what to think.
“We need to do something,” Mace said. “We can’t leave him like this. He’s scared to move from her side in case she dies while he’s gone. He hardly eats, we have to force him to shower, and he isn’t interested in anything but Friday. I bring him news about the team, about jobs we’re running, and he turns away.” He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his voice. “I’m worried that when she eventually goes, he’s going to follow.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I think that’s a distinct possibility. I’ve never seen anything like this before. He’s acting like they’ve been joined at the hip for years instead of knowing her for only four days before she slipped into unconsciousness.” He cast Mace a sideward glance. “In the middle of the night, when he thinks no one is around, he spends his time whispering, begging God to let her live. Begging.”
The words sent him reeling. Their team leader didn’t beg. None of them did, but Striker especially wouldn’t bend to anyone.
“There’s a lab in New Zealand,” the medic said, of one of the Coalition Countries. “They could run more extensive tests than we can here. I could send out some blood. See what they come up with.”
“We can’t. I’ve had Hunter flag incidences of accidental poisoning using Interferan-X. There haven’t been any cases since Friday took her dose. If we send out her blood, the fact there’s Interferan-X in it will cause a ripple. We can’t afford for anyone to think she’s still alive.” If that was even what they could call her current state.
