Chapters (72)
- ALSO BY ROBIN COOK
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT
- DEDICATION
- CONTENTS
- PREFACE
- PROLOGUE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- EPILOGUE
“Yes, I sent a sample out to the lab late in the day. We won’t hear anything till tomorrow at this point. I’ve been thinking about the runner, and I wonder if we were totally off base right from the beginning. Can he have been truly as ill as he appeared when you came upon him? Because the symptoms and signs, as meager as they were, don’t add up to anything I’m familiar with. And he walked out of the ER under his own steam with only a little help, which would seem impossible if he’d been in cardiac arrest for God knows how long.”
“I know, it doesn’t add up,” Pia agreed. “I’ve been thinking about the whole affair since you dropped me off. But I’m about as sure as I can be that he had no pulse and wasn’t breathing when I came upon him.”
“So what are you going to do? Let it drop? It was pretty clear that woman who showed up was in charge of the situation. If she’s your boss, it puts you in a difficult position, I’d imagine. Then again, I guess we should wait and see what the blood tests show, right?”
The symptoms and signs didn’t add up. Caldwell was entirely correct, Pia thought, the clinical history didn’t make sense at all. But she was sure he was wrong in thinking they were totally off base from the start. She was 99.9 percent certain the runner had been clinically dead when she happened upon him. And now, miraculously, he had all but totally recovered and seemed to have suffered no ill effects.
Pia corrected herself. She couldn’t be 100 percent certain the runner had not suffered any ill effects since she could not talk to the guy to find out, or find anyone at Nano who would tell her. Maybe he wasn’t doing so well now. But if he was, then there had to be some medical Lazarus program running within the four walls of Nano that enabled a man to survive a massive, normally lethal medical crisis apparently unharmed.
“Pia, we’ll have to wait and see, right? Pia, are you still there?”
The fact that she was on the phone with Paul Caldwell had slipped from Pia’s mind entirely. She ended the call without saying another word and sat on the arm of her rented couch. It was suddenly obvious to her what she had to do to find out what was going on at Nano. There was one person who undoubtedly knew everything. That was Zachary Berman.