The guy grabbed Joe’s elbow. “How?”
“I’m from the railroad.” Joe pointed at his orange vest. “They sent me down to get this case before it gets into the station.”
The doctor goggled at him.
“Are you Dr. Francis Dubois?” Joe asked.
“I… no,” said the doctor.
“You’re the only one on this train carrying a biohazard,” Joe said, “into a crowded railway station.”
“Nothing’s infectious,” the doctor said. “It’s just tissue samples.”
The doctor wrapped both arms around his briefcase.
Joe could tell that he was lying and, clearly, so could the man with the piercings. He let go of Joe’s elbow.
“I need to get that case off the train,” Joe said. “Please hand it to me.”
“Under no circumstances,” the doctor screeched.
The passengers edged away from them, except for the man with the piercings, who looked ready to pick a side and pile in. Joe hoped that the man would be on his side.
“Whose tissue samples?” Joe asked quietly. “The ones for the hundred and three people whose boat sank just off the coast of Cuba—”
“No.” The doctor regained his dignity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Joe held out his hands. “Give me the case. The officers in charge of quarantine can decide what to do about it. You can come with me, if you’d like.”
“Give him the case,” said the guy with the piercings.
A woman wearing a green scarf nodded.
The businessman looked confused, and the people around him began to mumble to each other. No one was sure if Joe was a helper or a threat. He didn’t have time to win anybody over.
“You will regret this,” said the doctor. “You think you can take this case? Hold me here?”
Joe’d had enough. “Of course I can. You know that the contents of that case can infect thousands of people. To keep people safe, I can take it. And I will.”
“Those are brave words from a murderer,” said the doctor. “What newspaper would print your allegations, Mr. Tesla?”
The man with the piercings looked uncertain now. He must have read the New York Post.
Joe didn’t have time to argue. He reached for the case.
The door at the other end of the car slammed open and a thin, dark-haired man stood in the doorway. Joe recognized his silhouette and his walk. Ozan Saddiq.
“Step away from that man,” Saddiq called down the train car. He drew a gun from under his coat and pointed it at Joe.
Panic erupted in the train car. People threw themselves to the floor and tried to crawl under the seats.
Joe kicked out Dr. Dubois’s crutch and grabbed his aluminum case as the man fell. The doctor wouldn’t let go until Joe twisted it in a fast circle and smashed it into his face.
The doctor stared at him, aghast.
“I’m not done with you,” Joe said. “Not by a long shot.”
The doctor brought both hands up to his streaming nose.
“Saddiq!” he called.
A gunshot echoed in the tiny space. Heat seared Joe’s ear. He dropped to the floor, still holding the briefcase, and dove the last few feet to the door at his end of the car. He leaned against it and pulled the door open one-handed. He fell more than jumped forward.
The ground jarred his ankles when he landed.
Joe looked back at the train car. The engineer had left his post at the front of the car to investigate the commotion. He wasn’t far from where Joe had been standing.
Saddiq jumped out of the rear of the car, and Joe ran around toward the front. He needed to keep the train between them as long as possible. The case bounced against his knee. He hoped that it wouldn’t turn the area into a biological waste site if it or something inside it broke.
The train lurched ahead. Joe sprinted forward a few yards, then cut in front of the engine as the train gained momentum. He heard another gunshot.
Pain blasted up his right arm.
Chapter 44
Ozan saw Tesla stumble. He’d hit his arm. He didn’t want to kill him. He had questions that only Tesla could answer.
“Stop!” called Ozan. He sent another shot just wide of Tesla’s head.
Tesla stopped. He held the wounded arm against his chest, but he wouldn’t let go of the case. Braver than he looked.
“I just want to talk to you,” called Ozan. “I want to know about what’s in that case.”
“It’s full of parasites called toxoplasmosis, Mr. Saddiq,” Joe said. “He was going to inject it into soldiers.”
Ozan wasn’t surprised that Tesla knew his name. The man knew everything. “Does it make you sick?”
“It gives you a fever, headaches, muscle pain.”
Ozan’s head throbbed. He’d had all those symptoms. He moved to a track next to the stopped train. “Then what?”
“It makes you reckless.”
He recognized that, too. This parasite was inside his body. Worry for Erol flashed across his mind. His brother would be alone without him. “Is it curable?”
The track points shifted with a clack. Ozan screamed as the bones of his foot were ground together. The train had been switched to the track on which he stood, catching his foot between the two tracks.
He dropped his gun and yanked at his foot. Hot pain flooded up his leg, but his foot didn’t budge. “Help me!”
Tesla put the case down and ran to him. He kicked away the gun before bending down to try to grab Ozan’s foot.
“Work the switch!” Ozan tried to push his foot straight back, but it was stuck tight.
The train rolled toward them, ready to go down the new track and run over him.
Tesla leaped up. He waved his arms over his head. Blood ran down his forearm from the gunshot wound.
Ozan looked up at the cabin to see if the engineer saw them. He could switch them back to another track and release his foot. The cabin was empty. The engineer must still be in the second car with Dr. Dubois.
There was no way to get his foot out.
And there was no way to stop the train.
Tesla saw it, too. He tore at Ozan’s leg with bloody fingers. Bones scraped together in Ozan’s foot when he lurched to the side. Panic tamped down the pain. He fumbled in his pants pocket. He had a knife in there. He could cut his foot off.
The train bore down.
Even as time slowed down, Ozan realized that there wasn’t enough of it. He straightened to face the oncoming headlights. The vision of Erol sleeping peacefully under his manatee blanket flashed through his head.
Tesla crouched next to him, still working on his foot. The man would die trying to save him. That was who Tesla was. The clarity that often came to Ozan on the battlefield came to him now. He grabbed Tesla’s shoulders and threw him away to safety.
Tesla sprawled on his ass and stared up at him with round eyes.
Ozan could trust him.
“Take care of my brother, Erol,” he called.
The train struck.
Chapter 45
Joe turned away, holding his bleeding arm. Ozan had been a bad man, but what a brutal way to die. His last thoughts had been for his brother. He’d trusted Joe to find him and look after him. And he would. His brother shouldn’t be made to suffer for Saddiq’s misdeeds.
A man in uniform shouted at Joe, but he ignored him.
He snatched up the case with his good hand and ran. Speed was all he had, and he poured it on. His legs fell into his familiar stride for running on train ties, but faster than he’d ever moved in his life. He gripped the case to his chest and ran.