“Except for the animal predation,” Kjersti reminded Jake. “But it looked like some of that came years ago. Perhaps just after they were killed.”
“Right,” Jake said. He thought of his old friend, Steve Olson, and how he would probably become polar bear bait in the next few weeks.
Anna swung the rifle to her shoulder. “Where do we go from here?”
“Exactly,” Kjersti said. “What do we do with the box?”
That was the problem still rumbling in Jake’s gut. It would be irresponsible to simply leave it behind. If some bird caught the virus and then passed it on to another bird and then to a human, and that human passed it to another. He didn’t want to think about him having unleashed a pandemic virus, with deaths in the millions.
Jake let out a quick breath and said, “We’ll have to get a hold of some guanidinium thiocyanate to inactivate the virus before transport.”
“What is that?” Kjersti asked.
Anna said, “It renders the virus inactive without killing its structure. So scientists will still be able to study it to possibly synthesize a cure or a vaccine to fight it.”
“Why not just destroy it and call it done?” Kjersti asked, her gaze shifting from Anna to Jake.
“Just in case,” he said. “In case the Russians still have a stockpile of the virus in some lab. We have to assume that this is only a small representative sample of the virus.”
“I’m so stupid,” Kjersti said. “I didn’t even think about that possibility.”
“It’s why our military handles most of the testing and storage of these viruses. It’s more for defense than offense. We never know what might get out there. I’ve been ordered to turn this over to the American government. Nobody else can properly handle this.”
Kjersti’s disposition seemed to fade. “Well let’s get you two back to Longyearbyen as soon as possible.”
“No,” Jake said. “They’ll be waiting for us there. We need a Plan B.”
12
They had followed the little guy, Gary Dixon, all over the city, as he met with various contacts, most of equally diminutive stature. Jimmy McLean had stayed back now as his associate Velda Crane had taken the lead. But Jimmy didn’t like laying back in the shadows. He wanted to be out front taking charge. Yet, he knew there were times when he had to give up control. He had taken photos of those Dixon had contacted and sent them to London for identification. Nearly all of them had records of underground activity, most of them jacked for petty crimes. But the disturbing fact had been their nationalities — everything from Norwegian to Swedish to Danish and even Russian. What did they all have in common, other than the obvious fact that most were also little people? Jimmy McLean had no idea there were so many small folks running around — especially with criminal records. Did he simply not see these people on the streets because of his own large stature?
Sitting in his hotel room on Karl Johan, McLean thought about how Velda had worked like a real pro. Not that she didn’t in the past. But this was different. To Gary Dixon, Velda was a supermodel, and he had insisted she follow him around Oslo as arm candy. She had even changed into a more revealing outfit, with high heels that made her rise above her new friends. McLean had been able to listen to all of their conversations, knowing she had played the part of her life.
Now, he waited in his hotel room, glancing out the window at the busy street below, the major thoroughfare of Oslo, with the Royal Palace and the Norwegian Parliament a few blocks away. Thousands of pedestrians streamed by below, but he still caught a glimpse of Velda as she strut along the sidewalk and into his hotel lobby.
A few minutes later came a low knock on his door. McLean let Velda in and she smiled at him before taking a running jump and landing on his queen-sized bed, rolling onto her side and kicking her high heels to the carpeted floor.
“What a day of hiking,” Velda said. “Haven’t walked that much in months.”
Jimmy McLean opened the mini-fridge and pulled out a couple small bottles of booze. “Will you look at this? Irish whiskey but not a drop of single malt Scotch.”
“Ah, pour it on some ice and call it good.”
He threw her one of the bottles, which she caught with her tiny right hand.
“Or we can drink it like this.” She cracked open the bottle and took down half, not affected by the surge of warmth.
Jimmy McLean downed his bottle all in one stroke, letting out a hearty breath of air. “Just what the doctor ordered.” He threw the empty bottle into the garbage can and pulled up a chair near the bed.
“Well, you gonna ask me?” she said.
“Ask you what?”
“If I slept with Gary.”
With the exception of the last hour, he had directly monitored every conversation the two of them had made, but then they had gone into the little man’s hotel two blocks away and she had called McLean off for a while. He trusted her and knew she could handle herself.
“What did you learn from him?” he asked, ignoring her baiting him into caring.
“I didn’t,” she said. “But it wasn’t easy. He was all over me, like a fat girl on chocolate.”
“But?”
“He showed me that, too. Yet, why settle for a lizard when I can have a dinosaur?”
“So now I’m old as a fossil?”
“You know what I meant, Jimmy.”
He didn’t want to go here. They had too much to consider. He knew something was going down, but he didn’t want it to be Velda. At least not right now.
“Business, Velda.”
She cocked her head to one side. “How about another drink first?”
He went and got her another bottle and threw it to her.
“Vodka,” she said. “Now that’s appropriate.” This time she sucked down the entire bottle in one shot and set her empty onto the nightstand.
“What’d you find out?” he reiterated.
“I found out Gary Dixon, besides being a randy dog, is in to something big. Bigger than he’s been involved in ever.”
“He didn’t tell you what?”
“No. He talked about a package. A box.”
McLean had heard a little of that. “What do you think he meant by that?”
“I don’t know. But it’s worth a lot of money to someone. Right, the vodka. Some guy showed up at Gary’s room. A Russian.”
“A Russian? What did he want?”
“Don’t know. They talked out in the hall. Gary came back more excited than normal.”
“What the Russian look like?”
“You mean, was he also a little person?”
“Well, we didn’t get a photo of him, since I came to the room.”
“I saw him, though. And I never forget a face.”
That was true. Her memory for facial details was quite amazing. “All right. We’ll check on the computer and see what we can find.”
“Hang onto your kilt, Jimmy. Gary Dixon has a dinner meeting with the man tonight. Maybe we should get a little rest before then.” She patted her hand onto the bed, raised her brows, and smiled at him.
He knew it would come to this eventually. They had played around a little in the past — she placing his hand onto her breasts, and then the more recent encounter in the dark Edinburgh alley. The tension had been thick, and now he also felt the thickness in his pants. That’s what she wanted, then that’s what he’d give her — every centimeter.
Pushing the chair to the side, he stood before her and slowly removed his pants and underwear. Standing before her in all his glory, her eyes got very wide.