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“Let’s read over all these papers and see what we’ve got,” he said after he put the towels away, indicating everything they’d printed out at the Internet café. “There’s a lot of extra stuff in the articles that we won’t need.”
She liked that he wanted to take care of business before fun and games, so she joined him in the sitting area, where he had all the papers scattered out on the coffee table.
“Ebola . . . Marburg . . . We don’t need all this,” he muttered, dropping page after page on the floor. Lily picked up a stack of paper and began sorting through it, looking for any information on influenza.
“Here,” she said a moment later. “ ‘How influenza viruses are treated in the laboratory.’ Let’s see . . . ‘laboratory-associated infections aren’t documented,’ but watch out for ferrets.”
“What?” he asked, startled.
“That’s what it says. Evidently infected ferrets pass the virus along to humans fairly easily, and vice versa. They make us sick, we make them sick. That’s fair,” she said judiciously. “What else . . . ‘a genetically altered virus . . . unknown potential. Biosafety Level 2 is recommended.’ What’s Biosafety Level 2?”
“I have that here . . . somewhere.” Rapidly he flipped through a section of papers. “Here. Okay. The threat is considered moderate. ‘Laboratory personnel must be trained in handling the viruses, access to the lab is limited when work is being done,’ but I guess we can safely say access to the Nervi lab is limited at all times. ‘People have to wash their hands . . . no eating or drinking in the area . . . wastes are decontaminated before disposal’—that’s good to know. I guess we could have safely gone in the sewer, after
all.”
“I’m just as glad we didn’t.”
“We may have to yet.”
She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Even though the sewer had been her idea and she would go that route if there was no other way, she’d rather not.
“ ‘A biohazard sign must be posted,’ ” he continued. “ ‘Extra care taken when handling sharp instruments’—duh—these are all precautions the laboratory personnel take while handling the bugs. ‘The lab must have lockable doors; no specific ventilation system is required.’ Huh.” He put down the papers and scratched his jaw. “This sounds like a basic lab, no airlock entrances, retina scans, thumbprint locks, or anything else. Looks as if we were borrowing trouble, because if Dr. Giordano follows these instructions, all we have to deal with is a locked door.”
“And a lot of people with weapons.”
He waved his hand. “That’s straightforward.” He tossed the papers on the coffee table and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “I’m surprised. I thought when you were dealing with infectious bugs, you had all sorts of hoops to jump through; but it’s mostly personal security, not external.”
They looked at each other and shrugged. “We’re back where we started,” Lily said. “We need information about the external security system. Once we get in, we look around for the door with the biohazard sign on it.”
“X marks the spot,” he agreed. They both knew it wouldn’t be that simple; for one thing, the laboratory could be anywhere within the large complex. It could even be underground, which would limit their available exit routes.
Having found out what they needed to know, which was a lot less than they’d expected, there was no need to keep all the copies they’d printed. Swain picked up the ones he’d dropped on the floor while Lily gathered up all the other sheets; then they dumped everything in the trash.
She was at a loss for something to do now. The hour was still fairly early; they hadn’t even had dinner. She didn’t want to take a shower yet, and thankfully he didn’t seem inclined to rush her into bed. Finally she picked up the book she’d brought and kicked off her boots, then curled up on the sofa to read.
Swain picked up his room key. “I’m going down to the lobby to pick up some newspapers. Do you want anything?”
“Nothing, thanks.”
He let himself out. Lily waited to a count of thirty, then got up and swiftly went through his things. His underwear was neatly stacked in a drawer, with nothing hidden between the folded boxer-style briefs. She patted the pockets of everything he had hanging in the closet, finding nothing. There wasn’t a briefcase, but she pulled out his leather duffel bag and searched it. There didn’t seem to be any hidden pockets or a false bottom to it; his Heckler and Koch nine-millimeter weapon was there, neatly holstered. The bedside table yielded a thriller that was dog-eared at about the halfway point. She fanned the pages, but nothing had been slipped between them.
She ran her hand under the mattress, all the way around, and looked under the bed. His leather blazer was lying on the bed where he’d thrown it. She searched his pockets, and found his passport in a zippered inside pocket, but she’d already seen it, so she didn’t take it out.
There was nothing to indicate he was anything other than what he’d told her. Relieved, she returned to the sofa and resumed reading.
He let himself back in five minutes later, carrying two thick newspapers and a small plastic bag. “I had a vasectomy after my second kid was born,” he said, “but I bought some condoms, anyway, in case they’ll make you feel more secure.”
His concern touched her. “Have you done anything risky? Sexually, I mean.”
“I did it standing up in a hammock once, but that was when I was seventeen.”
“You did not. Hammock maybe, standing up a definite no.”
He grinned. “Actually, the hammock dumped me out on my ass, and I haven’t tried that again. It did a real number on the mood. I didn’t get laid that day, after all.”
“I can imagine. She must have laughed herself silly.”
“No, she screamed. I was the one laughing. Even a seventeen-year-old can’t keep it up when he’s doing belly laughs. Not to mention I looked like an idiot, and girls that age are real sensitive about image and things like that. She decided I was very uncool and went off in a huff.”
