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Eric nodded. “So we think Flavius and his men either kept the eagle hidden from the Parthians or they stole it back when they escaped.”
“It must be priceless,” Juan said. “But the formula for the nerve gas was apparently worth more.”
“Which leads to our next finding,” Eric said. “There was one more useful item in the files you took from the swamp factory. The file refers to an upcoming operation using the factory’s output that was loaded onto the cargo ship in Nhulunbuy.”
“Do you know where the op will take place?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Sylvia said. “It’s an inventory spreadsheet titled ‘Canisters for 12/31 Shepparton mission.’”
“New Year’s Eve,” Juan said. “That’s only five days from now.”
“That’s not the worst part,” Eric said. “The spreadsheet has a column heading called MR-76 and another for Enervum canisters, followed by a list of production dates.”
“Enervum is the name they used for the gas. What’s MR-76?”
“It’s a Swedish-made rocket used by the militaries of many countries,” Sylvia said, “including Australia. That must be what they are using to disperse the gas.”
“How many?” Juan asked.
“The total at the bottom for each is two hundred and ninety-six,” Eric said.
“Used all at once, it would be enough gas to saturate an entire city,” Sylvia said.
Juan sat back in his chair at the grim news. “So we know there is going to be a nerve gas attack on New Year’s Eve, but we don’t know the place where it will happen or the actual name of the ship carrying the rockets, and we have no antidote.”
“We’ve made progress on that front,” Julia said from the boardroom door. She walked in and took a seat, followed by Murph trailing her in his motorized chair.
“Can you make it from the nut I found?” Juan asked.
“No, it was too old and desiccated to be viable. But we’ve identified the source.”
“Yes, we did,” Murph said, and then played a chorus of cheers from his audio translator.
“The Romans called it the green-eyed nut,” Julia said, “but the tree is known today as arenga randi, or Rand’s palm. It’s found on only one island in the world.”
“Christmas Island,” Murph said.
“Fitting for this time of year,” Juan said. “The one in the Indian Ocean, I assume, not the one in the Pacific?”
“Correct. It’s an Australian territory. About fifteen hundred miles from here.”
“The tiltrotor could make it with a stop in Indonesia,” Juan said. “How many nuts do you need?”
“I estimate it will take three nuts to provide enough oil for each dose,” Julia said. “Given that we have more than six hundred people affected by the gas, we’ll need approximately two thousand nuts.”
“And I volunteer to be the first to try the antidote,” Murph said.
Sylvia reached over and took his hand. “Are you sure? There could be side effects.”
“I may look cheery, but this sucks. If there is a potential cure, I’ll try it.”
“First, we need to make sure we can find the trees,” Juan said. He called Hali on the speakerphone.
“Yes, Chairman?”
“Connect me with Bob Parsons.”
“I’ll track him down.”
