Back Death Benefit Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. PART I
  6. Chapter 1.
  7. Chapter 2.
  8. Chapter 3.
  9. Chapter 4.
  10. Chapter 5.
  11. Chapter 6.
  12. Chapter 7.
  13. Chapter 8.
  14. Chapter 9.
  15. Chapter 10.
  16. Chapter 11.
  17. Chapter 12.
  18. Chapter 13.
  19. Chapter 14.
  20. Chapter 15.
  21. Chapter 16.
  22. Chapter 17.
  23. Chapter 18.
  24. Chapter 19.
  25. Chapter 20.
  26. Chapter 21.
  27. Chapter 22.
  28. Chapter 23.
  29. Chapter 24.
  30. PART II
  31. Chapter 25.
  32. Chapter 26.
  33. Chapter 27.
  34. Chapter 28.
  35. Chapter 29.
  36. Chapter 30.
  37. Chapter 31.
  38. Chapter 32.
  39. Chapter 33.
  40. Chapter 34.
  41. Chapter 35.
  42. Chapter 36.
  43. Chapter 37.
  44. Chapter 38.
  45. Chapter 39.
  46. Chapter 40.
  47. Chapter 41.
  48. Chapter 42.
  49. Chapter 43.
  50. Chapter 44.
  51. PART III
  52. Chapter 45.
  53. Chapter 46.
  54. Chapter 47.
  55. Chapter 48.
  56. Chapter 49.
  57. Chapter 50.
  58. Chapter 51.
  59. Chapter 52.
  60. Chapter 53.
  61. Chapter 54.
  62. Chapter 55.
  63. Chapter 56.
  64. Chapter 57.
  65. Chapter 58.
  66. Chapter 59.
  67. Chapter 60.
  68. Chapter 61.
  69. Chapter 62.
  70. Chapter 63.
  71. Chapter 64.
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. ALSO BY ROBIN COOK

The background buzz of conversation grew louder. Most recognized Dr. Springer. Everyone in the lab was well aware that they worked with highly virulent and contagious microorganisms. Was it possible there’d been some contamination of the lab? Where were Dr. Rothman and Dr. Yamamoto? Springer’s appearance only heightened the tension. The man by the door was on a cell, apparently quarterbacking whatever was happening. “We’re on our way, ETA five minutes,” he was heard to bark into his phone.

Quickly tying his mask in place, Springer pulled the biosafety unit door fully open. As if on cue, the gurneys reappeared, the one in front carrying Dr. Rothman, Dr. Yamamoto in the rear. Both men had IVs and were wearing oxygen masks. Rothman passed right in front of Pia, who pushed forward to take a look. She could see he was deathly pale and shivering violently. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, staring at the ceiling. He looked like death.

As fast as they had come, the cavalcade of medics was gone. Only Dr. Springer and Winston remained. Springer addressed the shell-shocked staff, a few of whom were clutching each other for comfort, others holding their hands over their mouths in disbelief at what they had just witnessed.

“As you can see, Doctors Rothman and Yamamoto have been taken ill. At first guess, we have to consider it to be severe typhoid fever. Both men are presenting the classic symptoms—fever, sudden prostration, abdominal distress, delirium, right lower quadrant borborygmi.” Springer counted off the symptoms on the fingers of his left hand as if he were on formal grand rounds. Once a professor always a professor, thought Pia. “Obviously, they were working in the biosafety unit. But can anyone tell me what they were working on exactly?”

Lab technician Panjit Singh stepped forward. “They were working on salmonella strains grown in the space station lab. I know that for a fact because I set everything up for them this morning. They’ve been working on it for weeks.”

“Okay, thanks, that’s very useful. Do you know if there are any antibiotic-sensitivity studies available for these special strains?”

“Yes, lots of them. I can get them for you.”